Hello everyone,
What started out as a simple enough role play with a woman has turned into a story that, if it teaches you nothing else, shows you that sometimes the smallest, most harmless, dares can turn into the biggest mistakes - lasting consequences that alter lives forever.
Switching of writers will be noted by (Jack) or (Julie). Sadly, the first part of this adventure was unable to be saved so I offer a quick summary instead.
Feedback and comments are encouraged. Who knows? We might just be interested in looking for someone to do a little writing, too... So don't be shy, ladies and gentlemen.
Enjoy...
Summary:
This is a role playing session based at a wedding, involving mainly two people, Julie and Jack, but with so much more going on. Julie is the bride's cousin and she's been recruited by the bride's mother, to help repair a rift between the two families, to be a bridesmaid despite the fact that no one, including Julie, wants her to be one.
Because of this, Julie had been harassed, insulted, propositioned and basically treated like crap throughout the reception by everyone - expect one man, Jack, who works for the hotel and helped to handle the wedding.
A smile and a flirt by Jack, returned by Julie, and the two are off - finding out they both enjoy games and dares, the two of them set out to turn a boring wedding to a fun game of surprises.
The first bet was simple enough: Would the groom mash the cake into the face of the bride? Jack had grinned as he won the bet.
But what to have Julie do? What dare would really be good? Despite not knowing how far he could go with Julie, he sensed he could truly be daring.
With the same grin, he told her that she had to remove her panties, give them to "Grandpa"(The uncle of the best man, who everyone referred to as Grandpa), and tell him the following: "I just wanted you to be the only one in the room to know what I'm not wearing".
Slipping her panties off, Julie finds Grandpa alone and hands him her panties, feeling the embarrassment as she repeats what Jack had dared her to say.
Returning red faced, embarrassed, but having completed the dare, Julie turns to Jack and asks what they can bet on next.
And that, is where our story picks up...
(Jack)
I smirk at you, leaning up off of my hand, "Oh? After all THAT and you
still want more?" I lean in closer to whisper teasingly at you, "Aren't
you afraid what I might have you do if I win again?"
*
(Julie)
“After all THAT,” I reply, “I think YOU’RE the one who should be afraid if what I’ll make YOU do!”
What will I make him do, I wonder to myself. I could have him do the stripper act on the dance floor. Would that be enough to get even after what I had to do? Hardly… My mind wanders…
In truth, I’m not really thinking about what you’d do if you won again. Partly that’s the alcohol, and partly its because it’s way more fun to think about what I’d make you do. But also, I guess I’m relieved at having pulled off the stunt with Grandpa, and I don’t really believe you’d put me up to something like that (or worse) again.
Call me naïve. I think I know you. You really pushed my boundaries just then, but I don’t think you’re someone who would push me further.
I might be naïve about myself, too. I’m really mad at both sides of the wedding party. I might not realize what I’m capable of, especially after another strong drink which you just brought me. I like you, and I like your attitude toward this wonderful nuptial event. If you dared me, it would be very hard to say no and not side with you against them.
Also, I might be naïve about Michelle’s family and the groom’s family. I haven’t thought about it much, but they probably don’t have the warmest feelings toward me, either. I don’t know them well. I don’t know what they’re capable of, just as I really don’t know what you’re capable of.
Anyway, I do my best to return your smirk. The band stops and the guitarist calls for everyone’s attention. To my mortification, it appears we’re about the have the bride toss the bouquet to all the single girls like me…and the groom remove the bride’s garter and toss it to all the single guys like you….with the lucky guy getting to put the garter on the lucky girl.
“I don’t believe they’re actually going to do this ritual,” I say.
“Well,” you respond, "it does suggest some intriguing wagers…and dares…that is, if you’re not too chicken…”
“Wager and dare away,” I reply blithely, without perhaps wondering soon enough what exactly you have in mind…
*
(Jack)
I laugh, a smile coming to my face as I speak, "Oh, I should be afraid? Really?" I point at myself, "Of you? The pretty girl in the blue dress?" I lean back in my seat, watching you, my eyes going to yours as I wonder for a moment what the hell I am doing here exactly, but glad, whatever the hell I am doing, it's with you.
I watch the guitarist and turn back to you, "Alright, bet on which side of the family's guest gets the garter and bouquet. Of course," I smirk and hold up my hands in a playful shrug, "Then there are you and I out there, too. If you get the bouquet, that counts as a win for you and of course, when I get the garter..." I take another sip of my wine, "Now for the dare... Well, we have dancing coming up. I wonder what the lucky fellow to dance with you would say if you asked him to move his hand, oh just a little tiny bit lower..." I grin, winking at you, "And since I'm going to be winning, I guess we'll find out."
*
(Julie)
I do my best to return your smirk.
I’ve seen this tacky ritual before. The bride tosses her bouquet, and the girl who catches it is supposedly the next to be married. The bride then sits on a chair, and the groom removes her garter from under her dress. Then he tosses it to the guys, and the one who gets it is supposedly the next guy to be married. The girl who caught the bouquet then sits on the chair, and the guy who caught the garter puts it on her, sliding it under her dress. There is lots of banter and hooting and the band plays “stripper” music.
It’s tacky and low-class, and I was naïve enough to think that Michelle was above it, little as I respected her. But I was wrong.
“One of the bridesmaids will catch the bouquet,” I predict, “and one of the horny bastards in the groom’s party will catch the garter.”
“And you agree to my dare if you lose?”
I’m about to respond, when the guitarist interrupts on the mike to ask all the eligible girls to come forward for the bouquet toss. They do, giggling and jockeying for position. I turn to you again, when one of the bridesmaids grabs me by the arm.
“C’mon, Julie!” she urges, and drags me reluctantly out to the floor.
You watch, amused. Everyone is watching the giggling girls, but you happen to notice Grandpa whispering something to the bride. They whisper, and he pulls something out of his pocket and shows it to her. She grins. They whisper some more, and she grins again.
Meanwhile, I’m a latecomer to the gaggle of gigglers, so I stand near the front and wait for the nonsense to be over.
The guitarist plays a dramatic warm-up. I stand there bored and embarrassed. Finally Michelle, with some flair, tosses the bouquet. I watch it fly through the air, and suddenly realize it’s headed straight for my chest. I reflexively reach out, and the next moment discover that without in any way trying to do so, I’ve caught it.
*
(Jack)
I laugh as Michelle pulls you away, yelling after the two of you, "That a girl, Julie. Michelle, don't let her act fool ya she was just telling me this is her favorite part!" I smirk, sipping my wine, trying to formulate a new plan. What would I have you do?
Then the unthinkable happened. Time seemed to slow as the bouquet flew through the air and towards you. As it made it's way down and into your hands, my shoulders and head slumped, "Well shit." I say to myself shaking my head and suddenly cursing at what I made you did, I raise my glass to you when I catch your eyes for a moment, "You're gonna really get me now, aren't you?" I say more to himself, as I smile and shake my head at you, thinking that the unthinkable just happened.
*
(Julie)
After I catch the bouquet, there is a smattering of applause. (Apparently I was not the crowd favorite.) But Michelle does come up to me and kiss me. The guitarist asks my name, and sings “Juuuuuu-lee” as the band performs impromptu backup.
I slink back to our table, placing the bouquet on it, and letting you ironically congratulate me. I feel numb.
You’re still thinking about losing the bet. “What are you going to do to me?” you ask.
Much as I was intent on flirting with you a moment ago, I am a little distracted. I turn to you. “Right now, I’m just a little more concerned with what’s going to happen to ME,” I say, for once not being ironic.
“Now then,” interrupts the guitarist, booming his voice in a kitschy cheesy way, “it’s time for our bride Michelle to lose an article of clothing!”
He places a chair on the edge of the stage, about a foot and a half above the dance floor, facing out. Michelle, loving the attention, walks up and sits down. The crowd, by now drunk, gathers around. The horny bastards in the groom’s party stand in front.
The groom, Mike, is supposed to slide his hands under the bride’s dress and remove her garter. But instead he lifts her hem above her knees. Michelle blushes, but it’s not clear if she is really uncomfortable or just playing the part.
As the band plays something raunchy-sounding, Mike slides the hem further up Michelle’s thighs. The groomsmen kneel, ostensibly so others behind them can see, but in fact to get a better view,
The guitarist leans over and peeks. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” he says. “I think we can see what Michelle’s wearing that’s blue, and it’s NOT her garter!”
The crowd roars. The guitarist was worried that his joke was too risqué, but now he is emboldened.
Mike slides the garter to Michelle’s knee. “Oh, give us another look!” the guitarist urges. Suddenly Mike lifts the hem of Michelle’s dress, and everyone can catch a glimpse of Michelle’s light blue lacy panties between her slightly parted thighs. She blushes and mock-tussles with him for the hem, then he lets go and removes the garter.
The drunk crowd cheers with delight. Michelle playfully slaps Mike and walks off. “All in good fun,” the guitarist crows.
Our table is well-situated such that you are distracted getting a good look at Michelle. Finally you look back at me. Suddenly it starts to dawn on you why I’m upset.
“I caught the bouquet,” I remind you. “So whoever catches the garter gets to put it on me. Taking the garter off the bride is usually the tame part; it’s putting it on someone else that everyone always plays to the hilt. And thanks to you … I’m … not … wearing … any … panties.”
You look away, feeling awkward, and once again notice Michelle and Grandpa whispering.
*
(Jack)
The crowd continues to cheer, getting louder and louder as the excitement builds and the drinks are poured. I look again to you, seeing the panic on your face. I lean down, covering my face in the crook of my arm. Well shit, Jack, meet a girl who's not only pretty and fun, but also adventurious and you go and fuck it up. Pat yourself on the back, bud.
I look up at you, eyes going to Mike, then back to you. I pull the chair back, "You're going to owe me if I can pull this off..." I say moving away from our table. I pass by a table of some of the older folks gathered at the wedding and as one of the men leans forward I slip his jacket off the back of his chair, pulling it on me in one motion covering my uniform. I shake my head as I slip in behind and into the group of single men.
I take one look back at you, to see the horror and worry on your face. Well shit, I think, that just piles the pressure on. I quickly turn around, placing an elbow to the sides of one of Mike's friends to get him to move just enough to let me get in deeper to the horny group of men as the guitarist tries getting the crowd even more excited, "Who's gonna be the lucky fellow to get to place the garter on our Julie, seated right over there!" He says, pointing you out.
As if you weren't embarrassed enough, almost everyone takes a look over at you, seeing you red faced as you watch your fate play out before you. You notice grandpa grinning, looking at you unlike anyone else here.
Mike claps his hands once, drawing the attention back to him, he says something you can't hear and then time slows for you.
The only thing you can hear is your heart beating, everything else fades into the backround. Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, as his arm stretches out, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, hand extending forward sending the garter flying from his fingers. You're not sure what to watch, the garter gracefully flying through the air or the men in front, pushing and shoving for position filled on wine and testosterone.
Hands reach up as the garter flies into the group, fingers trying to get a piece of it, shoving, and then someone trips and falls to their knees and the garter slips from hands, falling, the group fights for it like animals almost. For everyone else, only seconds have passed but to you it seems to last an hour. You can barely hear the guartist shouting "Who's got it?! Who's the lucky man?!" as your mind screams the same, 'Who's got it?!'.
Suddenly, you see me back out of the dog pile, as if I was pushed out, my hands going in my pockets as I turn to meet your eyes, my face telling you the whole story as I shrug, looking defeated. Your heart beats even faster as you realize your fate, a man, one you probably hate, is about to expose you to the whole wedding party.
They're going to make you sit on the stage, as they gather around with the band playing the same tacky music they play at every wedding for this moment. The man will knee between your legs, lift up your skirt and everyone here will know what myself and grandpa already do - you are wearing no panties. This event will spread within days of this and become wedding legend, "Did you hear about the slut who took off her panties and went up on stage?".
As you look back to me, trying to search for any way out of this mess, I bring my hand up from my pocket and with my pointing finger, call you forward as my other hand comes out, raising a garter and holding it high, I smirk and mouth the words "You owe me" to you as I turn to the stage and look up at Mike and the guitarist, "I believe you're looking for me." I say with a smile, before laughing at the drunk horny pile of men on the ground who all look up at me.
I take a moment to tease the group of men, imagining they're the guys from every stupid wedding I've had to do, displaying confidence and cockyness, "All skill boys. Next time, maybe next time." I grin.
Silently, on the inside, I'm sweating bullets, feeling my heart thumping against my chest. Don't forget to buy a lottery ticket today, Jack.
What started out as a simple enough role play with a woman has turned into a story that, if it teaches you nothing else, shows you that sometimes the smallest, most harmless, dares can turn into the biggest mistakes - lasting consequences that alter lives forever.
Switching of writers will be noted by (Jack) or (Julie). Sadly, the first part of this adventure was unable to be saved so I offer a quick summary instead.
Feedback and comments are encouraged. Who knows? We might just be interested in looking for someone to do a little writing, too... So don't be shy, ladies and gentlemen.
Enjoy...
Summary:
This is a role playing session based at a wedding, involving mainly two people, Julie and Jack, but with so much more going on. Julie is the bride's cousin and she's been recruited by the bride's mother, to help repair a rift between the two families, to be a bridesmaid despite the fact that no one, including Julie, wants her to be one.
Because of this, Julie had been harassed, insulted, propositioned and basically treated like crap throughout the reception by everyone - expect one man, Jack, who works for the hotel and helped to handle the wedding.
A smile and a flirt by Jack, returned by Julie, and the two are off - finding out they both enjoy games and dares, the two of them set out to turn a boring wedding to a fun game of surprises.
The first bet was simple enough: Would the groom mash the cake into the face of the bride? Jack had grinned as he won the bet.
But what to have Julie do? What dare would really be good? Despite not knowing how far he could go with Julie, he sensed he could truly be daring.
With the same grin, he told her that she had to remove her panties, give them to "Grandpa"(The uncle of the best man, who everyone referred to as Grandpa), and tell him the following: "I just wanted you to be the only one in the room to know what I'm not wearing".
Slipping her panties off, Julie finds Grandpa alone and hands him her panties, feeling the embarrassment as she repeats what Jack had dared her to say.
Returning red faced, embarrassed, but having completed the dare, Julie turns to Jack and asks what they can bet on next.
And that, is where our story picks up...
(Jack)
I smirk at you, leaning up off of my hand, "Oh? After all THAT and you
still want more?" I lean in closer to whisper teasingly at you, "Aren't
you afraid what I might have you do if I win again?"
*
(Julie)
“After all THAT,” I reply, “I think YOU’RE the one who should be afraid if what I’ll make YOU do!”
What will I make him do, I wonder to myself. I could have him do the stripper act on the dance floor. Would that be enough to get even after what I had to do? Hardly… My mind wanders…
In truth, I’m not really thinking about what you’d do if you won again. Partly that’s the alcohol, and partly its because it’s way more fun to think about what I’d make you do. But also, I guess I’m relieved at having pulled off the stunt with Grandpa, and I don’t really believe you’d put me up to something like that (or worse) again.
Call me naïve. I think I know you. You really pushed my boundaries just then, but I don’t think you’re someone who would push me further.
I might be naïve about myself, too. I’m really mad at both sides of the wedding party. I might not realize what I’m capable of, especially after another strong drink which you just brought me. I like you, and I like your attitude toward this wonderful nuptial event. If you dared me, it would be very hard to say no and not side with you against them.
Also, I might be naïve about Michelle’s family and the groom’s family. I haven’t thought about it much, but they probably don’t have the warmest feelings toward me, either. I don’t know them well. I don’t know what they’re capable of, just as I really don’t know what you’re capable of.
Anyway, I do my best to return your smirk. The band stops and the guitarist calls for everyone’s attention. To my mortification, it appears we’re about the have the bride toss the bouquet to all the single girls like me…and the groom remove the bride’s garter and toss it to all the single guys like you….with the lucky guy getting to put the garter on the lucky girl.
“I don’t believe they’re actually going to do this ritual,” I say.
“Well,” you respond, "it does suggest some intriguing wagers…and dares…that is, if you’re not too chicken…”
“Wager and dare away,” I reply blithely, without perhaps wondering soon enough what exactly you have in mind…
*
(Jack)
I laugh, a smile coming to my face as I speak, "Oh, I should be afraid? Really?" I point at myself, "Of you? The pretty girl in the blue dress?" I lean back in my seat, watching you, my eyes going to yours as I wonder for a moment what the hell I am doing here exactly, but glad, whatever the hell I am doing, it's with you.
I watch the guitarist and turn back to you, "Alright, bet on which side of the family's guest gets the garter and bouquet. Of course," I smirk and hold up my hands in a playful shrug, "Then there are you and I out there, too. If you get the bouquet, that counts as a win for you and of course, when I get the garter..." I take another sip of my wine, "Now for the dare... Well, we have dancing coming up. I wonder what the lucky fellow to dance with you would say if you asked him to move his hand, oh just a little tiny bit lower..." I grin, winking at you, "And since I'm going to be winning, I guess we'll find out."
*
(Julie)
I do my best to return your smirk.
I’ve seen this tacky ritual before. The bride tosses her bouquet, and the girl who catches it is supposedly the next to be married. The bride then sits on a chair, and the groom removes her garter from under her dress. Then he tosses it to the guys, and the one who gets it is supposedly the next guy to be married. The girl who caught the bouquet then sits on the chair, and the guy who caught the garter puts it on her, sliding it under her dress. There is lots of banter and hooting and the band plays “stripper” music.
It’s tacky and low-class, and I was naïve enough to think that Michelle was above it, little as I respected her. But I was wrong.
“One of the bridesmaids will catch the bouquet,” I predict, “and one of the horny bastards in the groom’s party will catch the garter.”
“And you agree to my dare if you lose?”
I’m about to respond, when the guitarist interrupts on the mike to ask all the eligible girls to come forward for the bouquet toss. They do, giggling and jockeying for position. I turn to you again, when one of the bridesmaids grabs me by the arm.
“C’mon, Julie!” she urges, and drags me reluctantly out to the floor.
You watch, amused. Everyone is watching the giggling girls, but you happen to notice Grandpa whispering something to the bride. They whisper, and he pulls something out of his pocket and shows it to her. She grins. They whisper some more, and she grins again.
Meanwhile, I’m a latecomer to the gaggle of gigglers, so I stand near the front and wait for the nonsense to be over.
The guitarist plays a dramatic warm-up. I stand there bored and embarrassed. Finally Michelle, with some flair, tosses the bouquet. I watch it fly through the air, and suddenly realize it’s headed straight for my chest. I reflexively reach out, and the next moment discover that without in any way trying to do so, I’ve caught it.
*
(Jack)
I laugh as Michelle pulls you away, yelling after the two of you, "That a girl, Julie. Michelle, don't let her act fool ya she was just telling me this is her favorite part!" I smirk, sipping my wine, trying to formulate a new plan. What would I have you do?
Then the unthinkable happened. Time seemed to slow as the bouquet flew through the air and towards you. As it made it's way down and into your hands, my shoulders and head slumped, "Well shit." I say to myself shaking my head and suddenly cursing at what I made you did, I raise my glass to you when I catch your eyes for a moment, "You're gonna really get me now, aren't you?" I say more to himself, as I smile and shake my head at you, thinking that the unthinkable just happened.
*
(Julie)
After I catch the bouquet, there is a smattering of applause. (Apparently I was not the crowd favorite.) But Michelle does come up to me and kiss me. The guitarist asks my name, and sings “Juuuuuu-lee” as the band performs impromptu backup.
I slink back to our table, placing the bouquet on it, and letting you ironically congratulate me. I feel numb.
You’re still thinking about losing the bet. “What are you going to do to me?” you ask.
Much as I was intent on flirting with you a moment ago, I am a little distracted. I turn to you. “Right now, I’m just a little more concerned with what’s going to happen to ME,” I say, for once not being ironic.
“Now then,” interrupts the guitarist, booming his voice in a kitschy cheesy way, “it’s time for our bride Michelle to lose an article of clothing!”
He places a chair on the edge of the stage, about a foot and a half above the dance floor, facing out. Michelle, loving the attention, walks up and sits down. The crowd, by now drunk, gathers around. The horny bastards in the groom’s party stand in front.
The groom, Mike, is supposed to slide his hands under the bride’s dress and remove her garter. But instead he lifts her hem above her knees. Michelle blushes, but it’s not clear if she is really uncomfortable or just playing the part.
As the band plays something raunchy-sounding, Mike slides the hem further up Michelle’s thighs. The groomsmen kneel, ostensibly so others behind them can see, but in fact to get a better view,
The guitarist leans over and peeks. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” he says. “I think we can see what Michelle’s wearing that’s blue, and it’s NOT her garter!”
The crowd roars. The guitarist was worried that his joke was too risqué, but now he is emboldened.
Mike slides the garter to Michelle’s knee. “Oh, give us another look!” the guitarist urges. Suddenly Mike lifts the hem of Michelle’s dress, and everyone can catch a glimpse of Michelle’s light blue lacy panties between her slightly parted thighs. She blushes and mock-tussles with him for the hem, then he lets go and removes the garter.
The drunk crowd cheers with delight. Michelle playfully slaps Mike and walks off. “All in good fun,” the guitarist crows.
Our table is well-situated such that you are distracted getting a good look at Michelle. Finally you look back at me. Suddenly it starts to dawn on you why I’m upset.
“I caught the bouquet,” I remind you. “So whoever catches the garter gets to put it on me. Taking the garter off the bride is usually the tame part; it’s putting it on someone else that everyone always plays to the hilt. And thanks to you … I’m … not … wearing … any … panties.”
You look away, feeling awkward, and once again notice Michelle and Grandpa whispering.
*
(Jack)
The crowd continues to cheer, getting louder and louder as the excitement builds and the drinks are poured. I look again to you, seeing the panic on your face. I lean down, covering my face in the crook of my arm. Well shit, Jack, meet a girl who's not only pretty and fun, but also adventurious and you go and fuck it up. Pat yourself on the back, bud.
I look up at you, eyes going to Mike, then back to you. I pull the chair back, "You're going to owe me if I can pull this off..." I say moving away from our table. I pass by a table of some of the older folks gathered at the wedding and as one of the men leans forward I slip his jacket off the back of his chair, pulling it on me in one motion covering my uniform. I shake my head as I slip in behind and into the group of single men.
I take one look back at you, to see the horror and worry on your face. Well shit, I think, that just piles the pressure on. I quickly turn around, placing an elbow to the sides of one of Mike's friends to get him to move just enough to let me get in deeper to the horny group of men as the guitarist tries getting the crowd even more excited, "Who's gonna be the lucky fellow to get to place the garter on our Julie, seated right over there!" He says, pointing you out.
As if you weren't embarrassed enough, almost everyone takes a look over at you, seeing you red faced as you watch your fate play out before you. You notice grandpa grinning, looking at you unlike anyone else here.
Mike claps his hands once, drawing the attention back to him, he says something you can't hear and then time slows for you.
The only thing you can hear is your heart beating, everything else fades into the backround. Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, as his arm stretches out, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, hand extending forward sending the garter flying from his fingers. You're not sure what to watch, the garter gracefully flying through the air or the men in front, pushing and shoving for position filled on wine and testosterone.
Hands reach up as the garter flies into the group, fingers trying to get a piece of it, shoving, and then someone trips and falls to their knees and the garter slips from hands, falling, the group fights for it like animals almost. For everyone else, only seconds have passed but to you it seems to last an hour. You can barely hear the guartist shouting "Who's got it?! Who's the lucky man?!" as your mind screams the same, 'Who's got it?!'.
Suddenly, you see me back out of the dog pile, as if I was pushed out, my hands going in my pockets as I turn to meet your eyes, my face telling you the whole story as I shrug, looking defeated. Your heart beats even faster as you realize your fate, a man, one you probably hate, is about to expose you to the whole wedding party.
They're going to make you sit on the stage, as they gather around with the band playing the same tacky music they play at every wedding for this moment. The man will knee between your legs, lift up your skirt and everyone here will know what myself and grandpa already do - you are wearing no panties. This event will spread within days of this and become wedding legend, "Did you hear about the slut who took off her panties and went up on stage?".
As you look back to me, trying to search for any way out of this mess, I bring my hand up from my pocket and with my pointing finger, call you forward as my other hand comes out, raising a garter and holding it high, I smirk and mouth the words "You owe me" to you as I turn to the stage and look up at Mike and the guitarist, "I believe you're looking for me." I say with a smile, before laughing at the drunk horny pile of men on the ground who all look up at me.
I take a moment to tease the group of men, imagining they're the guys from every stupid wedding I've had to do, displaying confidence and cockyness, "All skill boys. Next time, maybe next time." I grin.
Silently, on the inside, I'm sweating bullets, feeling my heart thumping against my chest. Don't forget to buy a lottery ticket today, Jack.
