Was he going to try to prove my innocence, or did he think I did it? I turned my face to look out the window. Watching as buildings I had seen ever si...ce I was a little girl fly by. I heard the sirens on the top of the car blaring. I closed my eyes trying to fight back the tears. I had to be strong now, crying wasn’t going to get me out of this situation. After what seemed like hours, but I’m sure was only a few minutes, we arrived at the police station. I didn’t resist as the officer pulled me. ”Gutted.“Now. Now I will help you make me proud again.”Cold sweat.“However, remember I am not without mercy.”Hope.“As always, your safe word is your armor, your escape.””Yes, Mistress.”Always that option.Assured many a time it wasn’t failure to say.Yet why did it hurt so much worse despite her Mistress’ loving encouragements to use such as needed?“Are you ready?”A concern passing over her Mistress’ countenance.Eyes clinching and opening with determination to see this through.She wouldn’t fail. All my friends had gone home and the town was pretty dead. I suddenly looked up and there she was starring me, like a lioness ready pounce. I wondered at first what she was starring at then I realized I was her pray.Now this girl was not a girl that would initially grab my attention, but she had those eyes which said i want you, i looked into those eyes it was like a trance. As she walked towards me with a slight swagger of the hips. I began to check out the rest of her body.She had a tight. I let Simon book the coach tickets back to his place. Unlike most English towns, Weston (as the locals called it for short) had the advantage of an alternative to the overcrowded and unreliable National Express coach service, and Simon got us two seats on the Bakers express. No stops, under three hours, hostess service and clean, comfy seats, he said. We ducked out of classes early that Friday and went back to our places to pack. I put my glad rags and some cold clothes (English Autumns are not.