Six hours of hell. We came to a stop at a traffic light where ours was the only visible car. My Master turned to me and shouted "You fucking disloyal ...hore!" Droplets of spittle sprayed from his lips and splattered all over my face as he spoke.I felt nauseous. A pit of dread filled my little tummy. I had disappointed my Master and myself. His rage with me was only equaled by the anger I felt with myself for having put him in this unhappy position. I didn't know what I could say or even if I. I settle down, knowing it's not over. They stay undressed for now, the evening is mild and I think she's enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze carrying away the sex-sweat that beads her chest and back. They finish the wine and then he starts to pack away the picnic hamper. "So, what next?" she asks, reaching for her top. "Not that," he says firmly, picking up her clothes and slipping them into the hamper, "I want you to stay as you are." "You want me to walk down the street naked?" "Yes.. More

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