I have been blackmailing you for months, drawing out my torment. You just can’t get enough of me fucking you over, can you? Last month, you did the most stupid thing you could have ever done. You actually jazzed on a pair of my panties you bought from me, then you sent them back as I requested. You didn’t even get the pleasure of keeping them around and know I have your DNA in addition to all your sensitive information. But I want more. You are going to sign a confession letter, confessing to a crime you didn’t commit. Then you’re going to sign it and send it to me. The thrill of uttering ruining you turns me on.