“Nice arse, Miss McAllister.” And he strokes my buttocks, to demonstrate his admiration no doubt. I squirm under his hand but it doesn’t stop him. “Once we start, you can scream all you like. There’s no one else for miles around. But don’t move until I tell you I’m finished. Is that clear?”
I don’t answer.
A not-too-light tap on my bottom now gets my attention. “Ashley, is that clear?”
“Yes. Just do it. Just do what you have to do, and go.”
“I take it by that you’re ready then?”
“Yes. I’m ready.” And I brace myself.