Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Emotion, regret, resolve, and the residual pain from his demonstration overwhelmed her. Chelsea had begged him to train her, but she had to admit that he was right. She’d really had no idea what she’d been asking for. It was a long way from kink that made her giggle to…this.
She struggled into the position he’d said, fighting for breath as she placed her upturned hands on her thighs. He draped a blanket around her shoulders.
With resounding clarity, she realized she’d never been with a true Dom before. At the parties she’d attended, she’d observed a couple of scenes. Even here, tonight, she’d observed interactions, and still, she hadn’t understood.
The last ten minutes with Alexander had changed everything for her. She finally understood that being a sub wasn’t just about getting an occasional mind-blowing spanking. It was about transcending or transforming your perceptions. Whips and cuffs might be part of it, but they weren’t all of it.
As she tried to steady the rollercoaster of thoughts and feelings deep inside her, she drank in a few breaths.
“Please look at me,” Master Alexander said in a soft and reassuring voice. He didn’t sound like the same person she’d just been with.
She glanced up to see him standing in front of her, holding an uncapped bottle of water.
Somewhere along the line, he’d removed the cowboy hat. Now that she saw his whole face, he looked even more implacable. His short, dark hair was swept back from his deeply lined forehead. His gaze seemed to penetrate her, as if he saw past the outer facade that almost everyone, including her family, knew, and into the inner depths she’d never revealed to anyone. Maybe not even herself.
“Drink some of this.” He extended the bottle.
Her hand shook as she accepted. Several drops of water splashed over the side. After managing a few sips, she offered it back and swiped her hand across her mouth before resuming the correct position.
“Parsley?” he asked.
Chelsea rose to the challenge in his tone. “No chance, Sir.”
“There’s no shame in stopping this,” he said. “Many people find they want something lighter, that they’re not cut out for anything other than an occasional scene. That’s a perfectly viable option.”
“Even if people rarely indulge, aren’t there still expectations?”
“There are. But not all Doms are as firm as I am about inspections and impeccable service. As long as you’re somewhat well behaved, you’ll satisfy most Tops.”
“But right now I will not satisfy the most discerning Doms, Sir.” Like Master Evan C.
“True. But plenty of people just want a little kink, and maybe get their cock sucked or pussy licked.”
While they’d been talking, her heart rate had returned to normal. Sweat had dried on her body. And she’d mostly managed to corral her galloping thoughts.
“Do you want to continue on?”
“I may be a slow learner, Sir, but I am learning. You won’t have to repeat that lesson. Yes, please. I’d like to continue on. Thank you for the water, and for the two inspection examples.”
“If you’d had more experience, girl, I wouldn’t have gone so easy on you.”
That was easy?
“It could have involved a spanking, perhaps an oversize plug or dildo in your anus, clamps on your cunt to hold the labia apart, having your mouth opened with a dental gag. You could have been manhandled considerably worse.”
Couples actually play that way? Despite the blanket, she shivered. “In that case, thank you, thank you, thank you for going easy on me, Sir.”
“When you’re ready, lie down on that table for a supine inspection.”
In her life she’d often found that things that seemed easy at first turned out to be more difficult than she could have imagined. But she’d also discovered the things she worked hardest for were the most rewarding in the end.
Drawing on her inner resolve, she shrugged off the blanket and offered it to him before climbing up onto the table, with far less elegance than she would have liked.
“On your back, hands at your sides. Knees upraised. Feet flat on the surface about shoulder-width apart. Some Doms may do this on the floor, or a bed, or a tabletop. A kitchen counter is perfect if he or she has company.”
She blinked. Company? She wasn’t sure she was that brave.
“It can be enjoyable to have others observe the inspection. A bit of voyeurism. Some Doms allow someone else to perform the inspections while he or she observes. For now, we’ll keep it between us.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
This time she knew what to expect, so that had to make things easier.
As she’d seen Brandy do, Chelsea took a few deep breaths to center herself.
Master Alexander squeezed and kneaded her breasts, and she moaned. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.
But then, instead of releasing her, he changed his grip so that he could flatten her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. It was as if the nubs were trapped in an awful vice.
She’d been wrong.
Knowing what to expect hadn’t made it easier. Even though he was doing essentially the same things, he was doing them differently.
Gasping, she arched her back, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but he was relentless, watching her, a small smile flirting with his sensual lips.
Bastard was enjoying her suffering.
“Very nice nipples.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“How high can I tug them before you beg for mercy?”
“Is this part of an inspection, Sir?”
“Certainly, girl. Gauging your responses, capabilities, and obedience is the biggest part of it.”
“Thank you for explaining that, Sir.” God. How much more could she endure?
“Back flat on the surface, keep your legs apart. Understand?”
The man was merciless. “Yes, Sir.”
“Feel free to cry or whimper or moan. Screaming is okay, too. You have your slow word and safe word.”
Which she didn’t want to use. “Yes, Sir.”
His grip was excruciating. But then he began to pull, as well.
She curled her hands into fists. Looking at her, he continued on. Hungrily, she gazed into his eyes, knowing she could drown in their depths.
The pain ratcheted up, making her want to close her eyes, but connecting with him gave her strength.
“Can you take more for me?” his voice encouraged and soothed.
Can I? In that moment, recognition rocked her world. This was no longer about her. She wanted to please the man standing above her. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
This time he sounded approving, rather than patronizing. Had his tone changed or had her attitude?
He pulled harder, and she whimpered, digging her heels into the table cushion. The amount of pain she was enduring wasn’t possible.
Gasping for breath, she panted. But then, shockingly, even as the agony increased, she started to become turned on.
“Ah. That exquisite line between pain and pleasure,” he told her. “You’re there. Endorphins and arousal. I can smell your muskiness, see the haze in your eyes.”
Yes.
Chelsea wanted…something. Something out of reach, maybe unattainable. But there was a raw, demanding need deep inside her.
He increased his threshold even more. Desperate, she squeezed her eyes shut and cried out, “Slow.”
“Well done,” he said. “I’m going to release you a bit at a time, so it hurts less.”
“Thank you,” she said, while desperately wishing he’d just let go. Still, when he finally did, she whimpered. As blood surged back into the abused tips, the momentary pain was excruciating.
“Now I know where this limit is, so I can, with your permission, push you further in future.”
She wasn’t sure anyone was going near her nipples again. Ever.
“Stay in position.”
She opened her eyes in terror when he returned. He had several items with him, including a towel and more of those damn blue gloves, but the metal contraption that he held up riveted her attention.
“This is a dental gag.”
It resembled a medieval torture device. It was quite wide, with two metal pieces running parallel and a ratchet on either side, presumably to keep the teeth apart.
“As you can see, the bits are dipped in rubber, so it’s quite safe. A lot of Doms like them because they restrict speech and keep the mouth open for insertion of any number of items, including a cock.”
Her tummy twisted in fear. “This is for educational purposes, right, Sir?”
“Instructional. Once it’s inserted, and you get a feel for it, I’ll remove it. When I inspected you earlier, I noticed how far you could comfortably open your jaw. Some subs find this kind of gag rather pleasant. They don’t have to remember their manners and they can surrender to the scene. In lieu of a safe word, we’ll use a safe signal. Simply raise your right hand, and I’ll remove it.”
Never, even in her kinkiest thoughts or readings, had she imagined enduring anything like this.
“Open wide.”
For a moment, she simply stared. She wasn’t stalling, she was considering whether to stop him, this…madness.
“Chelsea, safe word or open your mouth.”
Her fingernails gouging into her palms, she opened her mouth.
Though she tried, she couldn’t look away. He was entirely focused on what he was doing as he began to adjust the ratchets. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more and was ready to raise her hand, he stopped.
“I pay very close attention to you, girl. You’re safe with me. I want you to breathe and accept the gag for about two minutes. It will feel like an interminable amount of time. But I will not leave your side.”
He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. Because of that and the way he looked into her eyes, she vowed to do as he asked.
“Fifteen seconds,” he announced.
She was sure it had been four times that.
“You really are stunning in your submission, Chelsea. There’s something alluring about a woman who knows her power and isn’t afraid of it. And when she surrenders it, it’s magnificent. You doing okay?”
She nodded.
“Your shoulders are tense. Try to relax.”
It wasn’t just her shoulders—it was her entire body.
“Uncurl your hands.”
When she didn’t, he simply took her left hand and opened it, very, very gently.
“You’re still okay. Now try with the other.”
Reluctantly, she did.
“I promise, some subs find this experience sublime. It’s easier to let go when you’re not required to speak. You’ve got a minute left. Give up the struggle. Match my breathing.”
He continued to hold her hand. She looked at him. How could he be both her salvation and her damnation?
“That’s it. Breathe with me.”
As she stopped fighting the experience, she realized they were communicating silently, on a deep, intimate level. She’d never felt more attuned to another human being.
“Good,” he said. “Time’s up.” He pulled away his hand. “You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you. I’m just going to give you a quick demonstration of how an oral inspection might work with the gag in place.”
She nodded again.
“It would probably be a little farther open, but I won’t do that at this time.” He inserted a finger into her mouth and swept around, pushed on her teeth, pressed against the inside of her cheeks.
“Makes you very much aware of giving up control, doesn’t it?”
Transfixed, she nodded. He was standing above her, totally in control, large, uncompromising, a Dom sure of his power.
He overwhelmed her.
“You can imagine how this probe could be much more degrading and uncomfortable.”
She blinked.
“This, Chelsea, is submission. Subjugation of your will for another’s.” He removed the dam and wiped her mouth with the towel. “No worse for wear?”
Since she wasn’t able to find her voice, she shook her head and hoped she wouldn’t be in trouble.
His patience seemed infinite as he helped her to sit up. After she’d flexed her jaw and taken a couple of grateful sips of water, she managed to thank him for the experience.
Once she had regained her equilibrium, he helped her to lie down, and he resumed his inspection. This time he pulled back the hood of her clitoris to play with the nub. Most men she’d been with only had a passing acquaintance with her clit, but he plumped it, tweaked it, stroked it, fondled it then, making her scream, licked it. She grabbed the table and lewdly pushed her pussy into his face.
“You have a very responsive body,” he said, moving on.
“Thank you, Sir.”
He inserted one finger inside of her. “Your G-spot should be about…” He felt around a bit. “Here.”
She arched and struggled, wanting more, wanting him to stop.
“Do you want an orgasm, girl?”
“Yes! Yes, please, Sir.”
He continued his relentless motions. She was on the edge. The treatment of her nipples, the crashing emotion that the surrender to his gag had caused, then the way he touched her clit, the way her ass had been stretched wider than ever before, and now…heaven help her, he slipped a second finger into her and pressed his thumb to her anus… “Sir!” She thrashed her head about. In this moment, he owned her reactions. “Please.” She gasped. “I need… I can’t, I can’t.” Her legs shook. “Please, slow…”
“Come.”
To ensure her compliance, he ate her out as he finger-fucked her pussy and ass.
Chelsea had never had a man command her to orgasm, but she came, hard, fast, completely, screaming his name.
When the world stopped spinning, he was standing next to her, stroking her cheekbone.
“Thank you, Sir.”
He grinned—the gesture filled with triumph. “If I were training you, we would work on orgasm control.”
“Yes, Sir,” she lied. Flat-out lied. There wasn’t a chance on this earth that she would deny herself that kind of shattering experience, even at the expense of any diabolical punishment he might devise.
Once more, he helped her into a sitting position, encouraged her to drink another sip of water, then said, “If a sub passes inspection, and the Dom doesn’t need to punish her for something or have her correct something in her grooming, they move on to the next thing.”
The next thing? There’s more after that?
“For example, the Dom’s birthday present.”
She blinked. At some point, she’d forgotten she’d volunteered to accept a spanking from him.
“Assuming you still want to continue?”
Even if she wasn’t able to convince him to train her, the things she’d already learned would help her attract Master Evan C’s attentions. “Yes, Sir.”
“Have you ever played with a flogger?”
“At the parties I attended, yes. But I’m betting it was nothing like you mean.”
She watched as he moved a small stool to the middle of the floor. Then he went to the far wall and lowered a pulley. It didn’t take her long to add up the facts. She was going to be standing on the stool and attached to the hook. As she’d guessed, this was nothing like the playtime she’d had with others.
Her nerves skittered when he removed his bolo tie and hung it on the wall. His vest and shirt followed, and when he turned back toward her, she was even more aware of him as a man and as a formidable Dom. His chest was broad, and his biceps well defined. He had a small amount of dark chest hair that gave him a sexy edge. When she had fantasies, this was the type of guy who showed up center stage.
She vehemently disagreed with the little voice suddenly nagging her, informing her that he, rather than Evan C, was the right kind of man for her. Master Alexander was too brash and demanding. Besides, she definitely wasn’t the type of woman he would be attracted to.
He helped her from the table. For a moment she was close, far too close, to his chest, to being in his arms.
When he had been fully dressed, the atmosphere had felt somewhat instructional. Now sensuality simmered on the surface. He’d brought her to a rocking orgasm, and it wasn’t just because of what he’d done to her body. It was because of the connection that arced between them. She liked the touch of his strong fingers on her skin. His commanding tone of voice made her want to bend her knees in abject submission.
Music began to blare again, shattering the intimate air. She was grateful. It would be easy to forget she wanted to learn about submission so she could ensnare a different Dom.
“I’m going to bind your wrists together and then attach you to that hook.”
As his words confirmed what she suspected, she nodded bravely.
“I want you flat on your feet, so there’s no compromising your safety.” Once she nodded, he went on. “Since today is my thirty-third birthday, and you graciously offered to accept my spanking on my behalf, I’m going to flog you thirty-three times. This is a fairly lightweight implement, perfect for a light, sensual experience.”
That, she wasn’t sure about.
Could she do this? When she’d made her desperate suggestion, she’d thought maybe he’d pull her over his lap. But to be on a stool, arms stretched, naked, subjected to his lash…?
“Chelsea? Are you still with me?”
Bravely she met his eyes. Maybe it was bravado, but she wasn’t backing down. “Yes, Sir.”
He studied her for a moment before nodding. He selected a pair of cuffs—thankfully they were fabric, rather than metal—then fastened them around her wrists.
“Onto the stool when you’re ready.”
Filled with trepidation, she accepted his hand and took the small step up.
Movements sure and efficient, he attached the cuffs to the hook, then slowly hoisted it up a few inches, stretching her, crashing tension through her body.
“How’s that?” he asked.
Closing her eyes, she took a breath. “It’s fine, Sir.”
“Good.” He double-checked all the rigging. “Parsley?”
“Sir is a dreamer.” She expected the flogging to begin immediately, but he shocked her by vigorously rubbing her legs, then her buttocks and arms. He used a much gentler pressure on her front, but he covered her entire body. “That’s nice, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, sub.”
The soft growl of approval in his voice, sent skitters of awareness through her.
He picked up a flogger, and it felt as if the room temperature dropped by at least ten degrees. It had been one thing to discuss it theoretically, another to have him approach with the wicked-looking strands dangling from his hand.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” she lied. She wasn’t, but probably never would be.
The first landed on her buttocks. It was light, almost delicious.
“How are you doing?”
“Good. Shockingly.”
Then he began in earnest, back and forth, catching her buttocks, thighs, upper body, and the sensitive area beneath her ass cheeks. Within moments, she was lost to the thuddy, amazing experience.
Then suddenly, he stopped. Is that fifteen?
“Your back is red.” He traced lines where the strands had fallen. “It looks magnificent.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m glad you remembered your manners so we didn’t have to begin again.” He moved in front of her and shook out the strands. “Are you ready to continue?”
She nodded. Watching him was so different from having him behind her. Seeing his eyes narrow as he selected the spot he intended to strike was frightening. The man was more focused and intent than anyone she’d ever met.
When the strands connected with her belly, she closed her eyes. She was more relaxed when she couldn’t see what was going on.
The leather licked at her breasts and curled around her sides. Her breathing became deeper as she surrendered.
“You’re doing so well.”
She drank in his crooning words of approval.
“Continue to let go.”
She opened her eyes to find him studying her intently, and that helped deepen her trust.
He continued his blissful motions, and shockingly, she relaxed completely.
“Good, girl,” he said.
Earlier, similar words had annoyed her, but now, they were a soothing balm. As he crisscrossed her with the strands, she suddenly understood why Sara sounded euphoric when she talked about her Dom flogging her.
Moments later, he eased a finger down her cheekbone. Without her being aware of it, he’d stopped his motions.
“That’s it. Come back to me.”
She blinked as awareness returned. “Are you finished, Sir?”
“Those fifteen are, yes.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Her body was dotted with perspiration, and a raw hunger uncurled in her. “I enjoyed that more than I thought possible.”
“This was a sensual experiment,” he informed her. “I assure you, the flogger, especially crafted from something such as buffalo, feels quite different from this. The number of strands, their length and the way the Top wields it changes the intensity, as well. If you’re being punished, it will not be like that.”
“Thank you for clarifying that.” She was getting the hang of the right verbiage. When he stood there, still flicking his wrist rather than letting her down, she frowned. Then she remembered. “You’re thirty-three today, Sir.” And he’d only given her thirty strokes.
“Ask for your last three.”
“May I have them on my breasts, Sir?”
“You may not. Spread your legs.”
Goose bumps chased up her arms. He couldn’t mean…?
He stooped and moved her feet apart. Now she was frightened.
“Give me a birthday present to remember.”
Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. But she also knew that drawing this out wouldn’t help. The sooner it was over, the better. “Please, Sir, give me the last three on my pussy.”
“My pleasure, girl. And if you draw your thighs together, we’ll start over until we get three good ones in a row. Are you clear?”
“That’s diabolical.”
He grinned, in a not-reassuring way. “It is indeed.” In anticipation, she curled her toes slightly. Whatever he dished out, she’d take. After all, a lot was at stake.
The first was mild—a kiss more than anything.
The second scorched. As she cried out, she was tempted to press her thighs together to find release.
“What did you think of that?”
She forced back her instinctive reply, “Fuck off.” But as the moments progressed and the burning sensation receded, her clit started to throb. Stunning her, the stroke had turned her on. “Wow.”
“Another like that?”
Dare I?
“Are you brave enough?”
The initial pain would be awful, but the aftermath…? “Yes,” she whispered.
“I didn’t hear you.”
As she nodded, she clenched her hands. “Yes, Master Alexander.”
He flicked his wrist, and before she’d fully registered his motion, the stroke landed, searing into her.
Desperately, the edges of a climax building, she started to draw her legs together, only for him to press his palms to her inner thighs, forcing her to comply with his orders.
“Sir!” Heavy with demand, her pussy throbbed.
“When you’re with me, your orgasms are mine to give or withhold.”
Desire became a physical need, and tears sprang to her eyes.
“I’m waiting for your response.”
He was awful, a master in every way. “I understand.” Even if I hate it.
“You took those well.”
His casual conversation brought her back from edge, from the dangerously seductive place inside her mind. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m going to lower you, and when I do, I want you to move slowly.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Her body felt heavy, leaden, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move at all.
But he was there, rubbing circulation back into her shoulders and arms. Then he scooped her up from the stool and carried her to a chair, where he held her in his lap.
Frustratingly, the tension inside her didn’t go away.
For long moments, she stayed where she was, resting her face on his chest, listening to the reassuring thud of his heart, inhaling his primal, masculine scent.
Once her breathing returned to normal, she pressed away from him to look up and meet his gaze. “Happy birthday, Master Alexander,” she said. “And thank you for giving me the gift.”
“The gift was all mine.”
The sound of his voice, the memory of his hands on her, all of it was too much. She was restless and incomplete. “This…”
He waited.
Her hand trembling, she pushed a stray lock of hair back from her forehead. “I’m not sure how to ask, but…” She took a breath of courage and prayed she wasn’t rejected. “Will you fuck me?”
“It’s not a good idea to confuse training that way.”
“But you’re not my trainer,” she pointed out. And she wanted to be taken hard, by a man as uncompromising as he was. He knew her body better than she did. “Sir.”
He unfastened her wrists. “Chelsea—”
“You’re the one who made me horny, Sir.”
“Get on the table.”
His gruff order made her heart leap. “Yes, Sir.”
After wiggling from his lap and finding her footing, she made her way across the small space and perched on the edge of the table to watch him undress.
Deliciously, he was commando beneath the jeans. His pubic hair was well trimmed, and his cock jutted out. She’d been so caught up in her own sensations that she hadn’t seen how hard he’d gotten.
And his dick was glorious—big, thick, and pulsing. The sight of a man’s penis had never made her salivate before. But then, she’d never wanted sex this badly, either.
“Lie down,” he instructed while sheathing himself in a condom. “But keep your legs where they are. You’re going to be wrapping them around my waist.”
There would be no doubt he’d be fucking her, rather than making love. His way of keeping emotional distance between them? Regardless, that was fine with her. She wanted it raw.
In silent invitation, she lay back and spread her legs.
“Is your pussy hot, girl?”
It is now. His coarse language heightened the energy in her raging hormones.
He moistened his thumb pad and pressed it against her clit. She arched up, wordlessly begging for more. And he gave it to her, rubbing her gently, then with more vigor before backing off again. “Yes, please, Sir.”
Instead of taking her to completion, he guided his cockhead toward her entrance.
As he wanted, she wrapped her legs around him, then, forcefully, he took her.
“Play with your breasts while I fuck you. I want to see your expression. Make sure you squeeze your nipples hard, or I’ll put a pair of clamps on them and yank on the chain with so much force you’ll see stars.”
It didn’t matter whether or not he’d actually do that. Just the threat was enough to make her delirious.
In a single thrust, he drove into her.
There was nothing sweet or reserved about his claiming. She gasped from the depth of his penetration. “Damn, Sir.”
“Is this what you wanted, girl?”
“It is!” He filled her and satisfied her.
“You’re getting to me, Chelsea.”
His confession increased her ardor. She wanted to be owned by him. “Do me, Sir.” Her request was both a demand and a plea.
Repeatedly he took her, and her body jerked from the force. She played with her breasts and pinched her nipples. From the way he’d used her earlier, the tips were still swollen and sensitive, and that only heightened her arousal. “Oh, Sir!” She closed her eyes as they fell into a frenetic rhythm.
When she was on the verge of an orgasm, he stopped, and she cried out her frustration.
“Give me more. Knees over my shoulders, girl.” Grabbing her ankles, he adjusted her until she was in his preferred position. “That’s better.”
Leaning forward, he made her take his weight. It stretched her hamstrings unbelievably, and it permitted him in so deep she couldn’t draw a full breath. “Sir!”
“All of me, girl. Take all of me.”
In full command, he pistoned his hips. He was so powerful, amazing…
The climax claimed her so hard and fast, and she screamed her pleasure.
“My beautiful little submissive.”
From somewhere distant, she was aware that he sounded proud.
“There’s more.” He released his grip on her ankles and brushed her hands aside and pinched her nipples as he continued to fuck her.
The exquisite agony he inflicted, combined with the relentless pounding, made her come again.
Even as she rode crest after crest of pleasure, he continued to fuck her.
He was impossibly masterful, and so very, very sexy.
For a moment, their gazes collided, and she saw raw desire there.
“Fuck.” Then he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “Chelsea…” With a raw, guttural moan, he ejaculated, spilling inside her.
That she had that kind of power over him intoxicated her, and she sucked in breath after breath, trying to steady her pulse.
Long moments later, he released his grip on her nipples, then laved them with his tongue to soothe the ache. Then, in a wonderfully unselfish move, he played with her clit to bring her off one more time.
She couldn’t remember ever being this devastated, this complete.
“Stay there,” he said, withdrawing from her.
As if she could move.
He lifted her and moved her higher on the table so that she was fully on her back.
When she shivered from a slight chill, he draped his shirt over her. In this moment, it would take maybe thirty seconds for her to drift off to sleep.
After disposing of the condom, he returned, carrying a washcloth. With a soft word of gratitude, she reached for it.
“I’ll bathe your pussy.”
His statement surprised her. She hadn’t expected this kind of compassion in a BDSM experience. But from the beginning of the evening, nothing had gone as she’d expected. She was dazed.
He pressed the coolness against her, taking away some of the tenderness from the sex as well as the flogging. With a tiny moan, she arched her back.
When he was finished, he offered a hand to help her sit up. “You’ve made this a memorable birthday. Thank you.”
She was satiated, and anxious to have another experience with him. More than ever, Chelsea was determined to convince him to train her. She just needed a plan.