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Sr.de Pazzi looked at Jennifer and smiled.There was something behind that smile that made Jennifer feel very uneasy.Sr.de Pazzi directed Jennifer to the Father Confessor's room. As Jennifer walked through the old corridors to her meeting with the Father Confessor she could hear muffled screams coming from a number of other rooms she passed.At the end of one corridor there was a woman about her own age kneeling in front of a picture of Sr.Methodious Augustus,the founder of St.Vincents convent.Kneeling in front of this picture was a penance after punishment that a woman would receive.Jennifer noticed that the woman every now and then put her hands back to her bottom and rubbed gently.The severe look of Sr.Methodius Augustus glared down on the errant woman.Jennifer quickly passed by and arrived outside Room 35,the room used by the Father Confessor.Jennifer took a few moments to gather her thoughts and then knocked at the door.A voice from inside bid her to enter. Jennifer came. .. MIA! What was she doing on that catamaran? Oh, and was that small, slim one on the yacht her mum?“Quick!” Grace gestured to the girls. “It’s Mia! It’s her. Them! Get the stuff.” The girls got the message, even though Grace was too excited to project properly. They rushed round gathering their few items, including the various guns. They arrived down on the beach and waited impatiently for Mia.“We’ve got to paddle out a bit,” said Grace, so that the dinghy’s still floating when we’ve got in it. She tried to project that thought too, and got back an approving kind of signal. She was getting better with practice already.The dinghy reached the surf and Grace waded out to help Mia hold it while everyone clambered in, in the waves. Mia restarted the engine and they were off. Off and away from Cuba. In two or three minutes they were getting out onto the steps at the back of the yacht.“Gracie!” her mum was hugging her and kissing her cheek.“Mum,” Grace wriggled, “we’ve got to get going,.
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A man appeared next to The Authoress. Dee was hooked.She began to drift into that state where she often found herself while reading stories written by The Authoress. Dee sometimes got so carried away while reading, that she pictured herself as one, or more, of the characters in the stories, usually becoming highly aroused during the sex scenes.Dee took off the wig as she was overheating. She immersed herself in the scene unfolding before her, her imagination ran wild. The man, quite large and handsome, was carrying two cool drinks, lemon perhaps, with a green garnish, probably mint? He handed one to The Authoress as he sipped on his.He is The Proofer - the only person allowed to see her stories before they are sent to the publisher. The Authoress sipped her drink and scrolled to the top of her latest story so that The Proofer could read her words.Dee peered closer, trying to read the story, but The Proofer was blocking her view, his hand on The Authoress' shoulder as he leaned in to.

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