She did this intentionally. She liked that growling sound and the way thecar accelerated out of the turns. But the car?s pedigree prevented the engine...rom forgetting its manners. The snarl was distant and controlled. More distantand better controlled than her own. The snarling car, the leather seatscaressing her bum, the red lights in the gauges, and the expectation of themeeting, especially it?s outcome, all of it she found erotic. She let it beerotic. She wanted it to be. She had let it build. ” It was clever. The Boss was driving Simone to the brink with his interrogation. Would she snap? “You like a whopper up you, don’t you, slave?” “Y-Yer ... esss ... mmmmff ... mmmfff ... y-yes, Master.” “Say it!” “I ... aaaghhh ... like a wh-whopper ... up me ...” moaned Simone. The Boss was smiling contentedly. “Well, like it or not, slave,” he said, “that’s what you’re now going to get. Turn round and get your backside up!” Simone obeyed but, I thought, rather reluctantly. However, the Boss. More

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