He leaned the tablet on the center console and watched her photos as he groaned. Some of the photos were ones I had sent him, but others were from her...Facebook and Instagram. 'Sir, where did you get those photos?' I asked. He said 'relax faggot. As long as you give me what I want she will never know about this.' I was somewhat releaved but also began to realize he was in full control. I had to do what he said or he had the power to destroy my marriage and my life.I continued to stroke his big. “I’m not sure this was an accident,” he repeated. “The police aren’t taking this very seriously…but I am.”“But who…what…”“I don’t know. I’m looking into it.”Then he refused to say any more, insisting that I focus on getting well.Mistress had been trained in evasive driving by a bodyguard company, and she had taught me, so I knew how good a driver she was. Yet, no one was invulnerable – not even Mistress.But I could not shake the feeling that I had distracted her, that I was responsible for her. More

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