You coax each detail from me gently, pulling out more and more embarrassing details. Finally:“Did you cum?”I nod and stare at the floor, “Yes Si....”“Hmm, I wonder, did you have permission to do this?”You already know the answer and I am too ashamed to respond.Instead of waiting you slap my face.“Answer. Did you have permission to touch?”“No Sir.”You slap me again.“Did you have permission to rub that clit?”“No Sir.”The slaps and questions come rapidly now, Permission to insert a finger? No Sir.To. Then, I will free you. Maybe.I keep reading and rereading her text as if it will somehow suddenly change. I am profusely perspiring. This can't be happening. How the fuck did she get my phone number? Of all the women in the bar last night, I pick up the blackmailing bitch. Okay. Think this through. The sex was good last night. I hadn't planned on seeing her again, but how bad could it be, right? It's not worth calling her bluff and possibly ruining my marriage. But, blackmail never ends!My wife. More

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