Happy January Tuesday Tales... Today, I return to my current WIP, Personal Fouls, Book 3
Before I could legally sit in the front seat of a car, I played football. Some kids played video games, soccer, went fishing, or watched cartoons, I was practicing. Every Sunday, I watched football all afternoon with my pops. He taught me about downs, off sides, running plays, penalties, and everything else I needed to know to make me invincible.
I spent hours throwing a football through a tire swing in the yard. I needed accuracy with the perfect spiral meant to leave the defense in the dust. Pops got me into little league football, giving me the chance to show my skills to the bigger kids. The difference between me and all the other boys, I breathed this game twenty-four seven, and it showed.
By no surprise, I broke every school record for my positions during four years of high school. I was the first freshman ever selected as all state in our conference, continuing every year till graduation. Then came college scholarships, more records, more accolades, then, finally, the pros.
Probably a few years into the limelight, I became a man I could no longer be proud of. While ruthless on the field was one thing, an asshole during the day to day was another. Playing pro ball gave me more than I wanted, could ever need. Still, nothing satisfied my greed for life, a lust for anyone who fed my overinflated ego. I looked in the mirror one day deciding no more.
Through mutual friends, I met Lola, a dominatrix who put guys like me in my place. Stripped down in her locker room dungeon, she didn’t allow my pompous attitude. She whipped my ass into complete submission, peeling away the layers of obnoxious, humbling my gluttonous soul. Lola returned me to the days of my momma taking a switch after my behind when I stepped out of line. She reminded me of the respect I’d forgotten for the people surrounding me. Lola forced me into appreciative obedience.
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