That afternoon after lunch, Quentin took a rest in his cabin. He awoke with his customary feeling of randiness, to find his ravishing Creole slave-gir... kneeling submissively by his bed, hands on top of her head. She had been in the same position when he had dozed off. What a beauty she was! Those eyes! That mouth! Those lovely tits! And the colour and feel of her skin... superb.“Good afternoon, Princess,” he said lecherously.“M-Master...” said Carlotta. As always, she seemed to flinch. She squealed as I pushed her around, positioning her backside over my right thigh; I held her down with an arm across her back, my weight pressing down on her. I lined up my hand, and swung it to smack her arse sharply. I didn’t hit her too hard, just enough to make it sting slightly. She squealed and squirmed, trying to get away from me.Jillian just watched and laughed; encouraging me to keep smacking her.“She likes it if you can smack her right on her pussy,” Jillian said. “You’ll get her. More

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