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Your hand tightens in my hair and I am pulled back against your chest. Suddenly I feel your other hand wrap around the front of my throat. Just tight enough to just barely make breathing a little harder. You know this sends me over the edge and flips a switch in my body. I am no longer myself. I am now Rose, your sub. All the cheeky thoughts and smart ass comments are gone. I moan in desire and anticipation. My entire body feels like it has been electrified. My eyes half close and my mouth forms an O to let loose with a soft moan. One hand tightens in my hair and the other caresses my throat. Your lips are nearly touching my left ear as you growl that I have pleased you and asking me if I am ready for what’s to come. I nod my head slightly and whimper out a “Yes, Sir.” The hand in my hair begins to pull me toward my bedroom. I try to scramble up as fast as I can to keep up. Hobbled by the chain between it is more a bit difficult to stand. You ask me what I think I. Competition in this case meant another guy. His name was Jerry and his last name was some Greek name I never could pronounce. Acropolis or Metropolis or something. Sounded Greek to me. His family owned the only diner in town, the place where literally everyone from criminals to cops hung out. Owning the only diner in town meant the family had money. More money than brains I always thought, but that would be a whole other story. For his 17th birthday, Jerry got a brand new GTO. A 1965 Pontiac Tempest GTO in metallic blue with the 389 Tri-power option. The kind of car guys like me, and most everyone else in town, could only dream about. It had factory bucket seats, the Rally cluster package with all the gauges and the first AM/FM radio I have ever seen in my life. I mean the first AM/FM radio I have seen period, not just in a car.The problem here is that once Jerry got this car, his already big over-inflated ego just seemed to get even more inflated. Like someone attached it to an.
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