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Opening her eyes and twisting her head she stared up and screamed. A leather strap held her left wrist to the head of the bed! Casanova stood up and Renee heaved her body like a hooked fish on the end of a line. Another leather strap clasped her right ankle. She was stretched helpless between the two of them. "What are you doing?" she cried. "What have you done?" "Nothing, senorita," the Mexican said gently. "Nothing, anyway, as yet." |
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Not even casting a glance at her to make sure she was securely fastened, Casanova stretched Fran out the same way.
Renee felt even more frightened as she realized that the straps were already attached to the bed, just shoved under the thin mattress. All he had to do was pull them out and fasten them around her wrists. As if he did this sort of thing all the time.
"What is it you're doing to us?" Renee asked shakily, scared, sick, ashamed of what she'd just done with this man who had assumed the proportions of a beast.
The man turned back to her. He was still naked. Without his fancy shirt and expensive black charro jacket he had lost some of his attractiveness. His ribs stuck through and he was pigeon- chested. His face had taken on a foxy, mean cast.
"Do? Me? I will do nothing. It is you who will do everything. Everything I say."
"You can't get away with it. Our families know we're down here. They'll send the police looking for us," Renee lied desperately.
"Tch, tch, senorita! Your friend, she told me everything. That you two are here alone. And you told no one you would come to a filthy place like Tijuana."
He nodded wisely and smiled. "Si, maybe when you don't go to school in two weeks, maybe they look for you. Maybe in Los Angeles, no? That is where your friend say you are supposed to be. In Los Angeles with her relatives. Los Angeles, she is a big town, not"
Renee's heart sank. Hopelessly she nodded her head.