The obvious question is ‘Why is a woman like you, coming to a place like this, to do something like that?’She smiles and forces a little laugh. Sh...’s in total control. “Because I want to. And I always get what I want.”Cut to a shot of Bronte sitting/leaning on a packing crate, her bottom perched on the edge of the box, her hands behind her, her ankles crossed. She’s relaxed, very much in control, right in the middle of everyone’s attention – where she always is. She answers questions direct to. “Yes the hell, I do.” Mum still was pitched high. Then, finally one of the women, I don’t know if it was mum, becoming a victim of her impatience or Miss May, finally willing to show the last feature of the machine, my cock was freed. Obviously the was a final hatch right above my cock, so it popped out of the cave and, that way, was the only part of me, that really was free. “Mm, nothing happened.” Mum said. “What did you expect? This thing to fly?” May asked challenging but her voice had. I congratulated him on his superb horsemanship. He actually blushed at my praise.“I was riding before I could walk. My Pa was Master of Foxhounds of The Quorn, and I was riding to hounds at twelve years of age – got bloodied on my fourteenth birthday, and also lost my virginity to one of the parlour maids – quite a day.”The Quorn Hunt is the oldest established pack of fox hounds in England, and hunts in Leicestrshire and parts of Nottinghamshire, which would explain the trace of an East Midland. He prepared all the tools,wenches,etc...and when the daycame,he was watching the slogan for monster.com "Is today going to be theday?" "Definitely" smirked the real monster. An ordinary kidnapping at a parking lot ensued andwithout furthermore,she lies helpless in his van.Once she regainedconsciousness her vision was blurry,Once it cleared she wailed at the top ofher lungs seeing that she was bound and her feet was off the floor,naked.in herperipheral vision,she could see someone moving at her.