Her ass seemed naked. When she stood in her stirrups her clean- shaven cunt was in plain sight.Her face was masked. Her head wore a tight leather helm...t that sported a high red ponytail at its crown. Her hands were in half-gloves that let her blood-red talons free. She pulled hard at the reigns. It made the horse rear and whinny. A black leather crop dangled from the saddle.Also in her hand was a leash. It ran to the bound wrists of a masked slave girl at the side of her horse. The girl was. But right now, she was heading right out of my life at a mighty rate of knots. I cursed all those beers and late-night curries that were slowing me down, and forced myself to try and step up the pace. It didn't last. Another bend, and she was briefly hidden by some trees. By the time I caught sight of her again, she was just a distant shape, and I knew I'd lost her. Three miles later, I had finished well down the list, defeated and demoralised. There was something symbolic about losing my. More

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