I pull on the scarf. Small pressure on my neck. A little bit tighter. A small sound comes from me.Pulling harder, a moan escapes me.Tightness, chin...moves up, harder to breathe now.I pull more, silk smooth and gliding and restricting, eyebrows arch.My arms extend further, as far as they can, my air is gone, my tiny tongue pushes at the ball in my tongue.Small tingle of drool over my chin.My hips grind slowly up to the window, twisting, turning, knees letting me slide down as a rushing sounds. Please leave." "I want to talk about this." There's nothing to talk about. Please leave."Though I tried, she never wanted to talk about that night It was several weeks later that I had woken up in the middle of the night to take a piss. As I passed Christi's room, I could hear low murmurs coming from her room. It sound like she was getting off. So instead of going to the bathroom, I went in the kitchen, grabbed a large glass,and took my piss in that. She would've heard the toilet flush if I. More

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