Itty Bitty Pity Party

Just a small personal aside in my sudden burst of writing (not that I want to impede the progress of that, but sometimes one needs to just vent, yanno?)

So that surgery I had a few weeks ago has totally knocked my D/s life off kilter. I can’t have any rough play for a *minimum* of 10 weeks, possibly longer. *insert huge sigh* I understand. I have to heal. I understand. I love impact play. I understand. He’s taking care of me to not let me be injured in a way that would undo the work done. (No, I didn’t have a nose job, LOL)

He’s made the right call. I get it. But I’m just a little sad right now.

We’re finally going to have some face time next weekend — after not seeing each other for two months, I’m pretty anxious to see Him.

Anyhow, that’s my little pity party for one.

Librarian: A Danger Date Story

She liked this quiet time best, when the library was not far from closing. There were just a few patrons scattered around the various chairs, reading periodicals, while several were perusing the current bestseller stack. Not quite time to begin herding them out the doors, which was just as well, as they not ready to be checking out. The soft chiming bell on the desk would cue her to anyone needing her assistance, though few rarely did.  Joseph would keep an eye on things; the information desk had a clear view of most of the main floor. Scooping up her first pile of checked in returns, already stacked in Dewey order, she nodded at Joseph, and headed out to shelve them.

At twenty minutes to closing she was working on her final stack of books. Her co-worker was beginning to make the rounds, softly alerting the few stragglers who had yet to depart of the library’s impending closure for the night. She yawned as she headed to the second floor. She’d do a sweep of the upper room for people;  though the last person had been seen leaving ten minutes ago, there was the occasional person still deeply engrossed in the tall stands of shelves. A quick turn around the room proved the space was empty. Scooping up the books, she made quick work of shelving the first few. The last two were mates, and of course were on the top shelf. Being petite was often a challenge, none so much as having to rustle up one of the step stools. Stepping up, she still needed to stand on tiptoe to wriggle the tomes into their proper places.

As she reached to place the second book, a hand cupped her mons.

“Don’t stop what you’re doing, and don’t turn around.”

His voice was deep, and firm.

“What? What are you doing?” her voice was a shocked whisper. Too many years working in such a quiet place had made it all but impossible to actually scream.


Fingers pushed aside her panties, began wriggling around her slit. A rough fingertip caressed her clit and she moaned.

“No…what…stop…” It was wrong, she knew, to get such pleasure out of being so roughly handled. And by some random stranger. And in the damn library!

“I’m not going to stop and I’m sure you know that. I’m going to give you pleasure. Keep your arms up and your head turned away.”

There was something in the timbre of his voice that made her obey. Was this some kind of offshoot of Stockholm syndrome or something?, she wondered.  Another moan as his fingers slipped up into her pussy and began diddling around. A massive shiver ran through her, one of pleasure and fear. What if someone came up, like Joseph, to give her the all clear? What if this guy pulled her off the stepstool and killed her? What if she had an orgasm right here, right this way? What if he stopped, right now?

“Cum for me, little slut, come for me now.”

The voice was deeper, huskier, his fingers working at a frantic pace inside of her. The quivering grew fiercer, her hips wiggling. Her back arched as she came, a sudden gush of liquid down her legs.

“There’s a good girl, no, now you know we aren’t done yet.”

His fingers stayed buried in her cunt, fucking now, fucking and wiggling inside of her. His thumb pierced her anus, and she whimpered. The pain and pleasure did a dance between her legs as ripples of heat ran up her spine.


“Your pussy is just sensitive. You’ll get used to my thumb up your ass. It will give you deeper pleasure. And I like knowing it hurts you to get this beautiful pleasure. It feels so fucking good, doesn’t it, slut? Put the book down now and step down off the stool. Yes, keep your back to me.”

His fingers remained inside of her as she followed his directions, until she was bent at the waist, hands resting on the stool where she had stood moments before. When his cock entered her, it was with a strong thrust.

She came, harder than the first time.

He fucked her roughly, quickly, spurting his baby juice into her belly.  His thumb circled her clit.

“I want to make you remember the stranger who fucked you brainless at work.”

She shivered, the sensitive bud on overload after two orgasms. She’d never had two orgasms in a week, let alone during one sexual event. When she came again, it was with such intensity that she blacked out a bit, her legs wobbling, her arms not able to support her. She fell to her knees, shaking.

She never felt him tug down her skirt, nor heard him leave. A soft chime through the PA system informed her that the library was now closed for the evening. Pushing to her feet, she moved slowly to the stairway and began to help Joseph close up for the night, saying nothing about the encounter on the second floor.


Sliding into her car, she felt the wetness of her panties.  She blushed, humiliated by the wetness that had come after the assault. Flicking on her lights, she could see something stuck under her wiper blade. She thought about just leaving it there until she got home, but knew it would drive her crazy if she left it. With a sigh of reluctance, she slid out of the car and tugged the card free.

It was on light blue, heavyweight stock, and simply read:

Tonight’s sexual encounter was a gift from a friend.

 Danger Dates


She sat back, eyes closed, and wondered which friend it could possibly be, wondered if she would call the police if she knew, or send a thank you note,  before starting the car and headed home.


Joseph watched as Lindsey got out of her car to retrieve something on her windshield. He smiled all the way home.


Rape Fantasy

I always feel strange prefacing my rape fantasy fare with a warning, but these days *shrugs* who knows what people are capable of misconstruing. Rape fantasy is something many of us fantasize about.  Doesn’t mean we’re “askin’ for it” unless we’re in a consensual non-consent relationship with you. ~n~

It was dusky, not full dark, and the grey tendrils of fog presaged the rapidly dropping temperatures. She’d shivered as she’d walked, her car just down a half a block from the store. Dressed for the warmer temperatures of the afternoon in a light tank top and skirt, she’d been unprepared for the sudden shift in the weather. Goosebumps puckered her skin and her nipples tightened. Picking up her pace, she thought longingly of the warmth of her vehicle, of the heater turned up to high and blowing her chill away.

The hands grabbed her roughly as she walked past the alleyway.

“Waaa??” was all she was able to yelp as a dirty rag was stuffed between her lips.


Shoved roughly against the wall, she tried to push off, but shock and his hand between her shoulder blades didn’t allow her to move much. A hard shove and her nose bumped the rough wall in front of her. A body pressed against her, the heat welcome, though the hands now gripping her tits were not.

“Nice knockers.” He growled softly, before his fingers gripped the bottom of her shirt,  pulling it up and over her face. Her breasts fell forward as he ripped her bra down, breaking the left strap. Roughly he pinched her nipples, twisting them coarsely. She whimpered and cried out but the gag effectively stopped the sounds from travelling far.

He leaned hard against her, her breasts flattened against the stone. It hurt, the rough edges catching on her tender skin. She knew, though she struggled hard, that he was going to rape her.

Her skirt was raised up, ragged nails scratching against her thighs. She pushed away, struggled for space to wriggle free before he slammed her back, knocking the breath from her and smashing her boobs against the chilly wall. His hand cuffed her cheek.

“Cut that shit out. I’m gonna fuck you and then I’ll be on my way. Tender piece of ass like you, you want a nice hard cock piercing you. Warm you up, juicing your belly up nice. Fucking whore, you’re gonna get all my meat.”

She shook her head no, but he wasn’t listening. His breathing was loud, harsh against her neck as his hands worked between them. She felt it, the head of his thing, felt it searching for her, seeking entry into her secret place. She squeezed her legs, squeaking out a high pitched ‘stop’ as she writhed against the body pressing upon her.

He wasn’t going to stop. His cock slid along her split until it stuck against her hole. A quick shift of his hips and the first few inches poked into her. Rising to her toes, she tried to dislodge him by squeezing her inner muscles, but he laughed, and pulled her hips down as he rose fully, driving himself into her.

In and out, in and out, she chanted in her head, willing him to finish. Her cunt was burning. Her ears were burning as he spoke disgusting things to her. Calling her a slut, a whore, a wet, greasy cunt. Telling her how hot she was, how slick and needy. His hands pinched her nipples hard, then pulled them. Her breasts were grabbed, squeezed, mauled as he moved in and out, in and out. She could hear the sounds of the sex, the wet squelching sucking of his cock pulling free, and feel the slick wetness as he drove forcefully back into her.

Her cunt ached. Her tits were screaming. A hard push, his hips grinding deep foreshadowed his orgasm. He pulled out, just a bit, then pistoned again, making her body jerk at the depth of each thrust. He came, grunting and biting her neck. He held her there until his cock was flaccid, slipping from her. A hand mashed her head against the wall.

“Fucking stay here until you count to ten.”

For a moment there was nothing. No sound, no pressure of him against her. The sudden rush of cold air made her shiver. Faintly she heard the sound of someone running away and she knew she was alone. Hands shaking, she spat and pulled the gag out of her mouth, then gathered up her panties from around her ankles. Shivering hard, she tugged down her skirt and shirt, adjusting her bra as much as she could. Quickly she scooped up her purse from where it had fallen beside her, and dug for her keys. She took a breath, a second one, and ignoring the wetness leaking from her abused vagina, she ran as fast as she was able to her car.

Later at home, after a long and steaming shower, she masturbated, coming hard as she held her destroyed bra in her free hand.


a reminder to you all — this is fantasy, do not try this at your neighbors house. ty



The day had sucked. Big-fucking-time. Everything had gone awry, from the coffee that she’d dropped on the subway platform, to the report that she’d printed out to page 4, which skipped page 5, 9, and 11, and then her printer decided to upright die on her. She’d cussed some at that, then handled it.

She always handled it.

She missed the subway car by five seconds, thanks to Grab-ass Frank, who had blocked her in her office with some long-winded story as he looked down her blouse. And while part of her had been naughtily appreciative that he’d been leering at her, part of her was just impatient to go home. Her feet still smelled of this mornings latte, she had sweat through her deodorant in her panic of losing the fucking report…and she just wanted a shower, a glass of wine, and her dildo.

At long last she’d keyed open her door. Dropping her gear inside the door on the small bench, she hung the keys on the hook, else she’d never find them in the morning, kicked off her shoes, and began discarding clothing as she headed for the shower with the same greedy need that she might have shown a lover.

She didn’t notice that her apartment door had swung shut so slowly that the tongue caught on the edge of the faceplate and didn’t slip into the hole.  Mrs. Murphy across the hall might have noticed, but her cat tried to run between her legs as she left, and she was in a flurry of panic, chasing him back inside, before quickly shutting the door. Scurrying down the hall, she patted her hair to assure that her bun was in place before heading to the market.

Once an old factory building, there were now many apartments in each wing of the old brick business. Each had different elements, either a large open concept, or picture windows to view the city below, or multi-level lofts. Maintenance circulated through the building, attending to a variety of essential chores, but no one passing to and from their own units noticed that the door of B-41 was ever so slightly ajar.

He was a visitor to the area, meeting with clients nearby. His buddy lived in B-building, and  since old Mike had finally tied the knot and  was away on his honeymoon, he’d very kindly let his friend use his apartment. Mike was probably fucking his hot wife right now, he mused, looking out the window. Almost immediately he’d noticed the woman with the business suit moving briskly across the parking lot, and as luck would have it,  into his building. Holy fuck, she was hot. He wondered how big her tits were under that suit. Her legs were long, or maybe it was just the heels.

When she came inside, he figured he’d lost her, but by peering out the peephole, he could see her come into view. Then stop, just diagonally across the hall from where he was leering at her. Well, wasn’t that lucky. And didn’t she have a fine fucking ass under that skirt? He watched her shove the key into the lock, turning it. Just like his cock wanted to shove into her hole…

“Stop,” he admonished his rising cock. “Just stop.”

But there she went, pulling off her jacket as she entered. He caught the faintest hint of tit. As the door swung shut, he caught a glimpse of her hands working at the back of her skirt, unzipping it. It shut, but  he noticed that it didn’t close tightly behind her. There was a thick shadow where there should have been a thin one. Holy fuck. Her door was open and she was getting naked. His cock lurched.

“Down boy,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction and his shaft continued firming.

“It would only be neighborly to go and shut that for her,” he said. As if by saying it aloud he could get the image out of his mind of her ass molded by her pencil skirt. As if he could talk his cock into relaxing. As if he wouldn’t hope to get a peek at her naked body as he shut the door…after maybe bumping it open by accident.

Before he could leave the apartment,  however, the elderly lady from down the hall came into view. She was making little squeaky noises, and he watched an enormously fat black and tan cat waddling down the hallway. She chased after it, catching the portly beast and berating it as she carried it back to her apartment. He waited for her to disappear down the hallway. Finally the corridor was clear, and he slipped out.

His hand was on the knob but somehow he “accidentally” pushed it open. He saw the scattering of clothing, the briefcase, the purse piled on the seat next to the door. He could hear the rushing whoosh of the shower.

His cock became rock.

Peeling off his teeshirt, stepping out of his pants, he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He was going to go rape a woman in the shower, and the thought drew a pearl of pre-cum onto the head of his rampant erection. He shut the door behind him, and locked it. Quietly, he followed the sound of streaming water and paused for a moment in appreciation.

Her shower was spectacular. No door, just a wide open, tiled box. There were 4 heads, all in full use, the room steamy.  It was about to get steamier.

He almost groaned at the sight of her perfect white ass. She was bent at the waist, her head being pounded by a waterfall of hot water. Her hands were tangled in the long wet mass of her hair which was pooled on the floor by her feet. Shampoo suds were everywhere, the floral scent heady.

His cock lined up with her ass-split as he stepped silently behind her.


The water streamed over her. The pounding of the hot water on her aching head and neck was such a relief to the tight muscles that had turned into knots of pain. Her fingers massaged her scalp as she folded in half, letting the heat and moisture soothe her.

She was almost purring with the pleasure of the shower when a hard object was thrust into her vagina.

“Don’t stand up.”

A foot kicked her legs apart, and stood on her hair. She could not stand even if she wanted to.

“What…who are you…what are you…no…noooo…stop…”

“I’m fucking you. That should be kind of obvious. Your cunt was right there begging for this. You were flashing it, and my cock found it. My cock likes it. Your cunt is hot, and tight, and so very, very wet.”

He withdrew, then slammed back into her. He didn’t intend to be so merciless, but the circumstances made him feel like William the Conqueror or something.  A rotten super hero, maybe, Captain Fuckman. He drove into her again, enjoying the squeaking noises she made each time he slammed ruthlessly into her. And gods, her pussy was so fucking juicy. And hot. The heat inside of her was amazing. He’d never fucked a cunt so hot before. He figured the heat of the shower had something to do with it, but by damn, her cunt was getting slick.

“You like being used this way, you little whore, don’t you?”

“no! NO!”

She tried to shake her head, to move, but she was trapped, his foot curled into the long tresses. He kept punching his cock into her, and she tried to not feel herself responding. He was using her, raping her on his thick hard shaft. Her pussy ached at the abuse. That’s what it was, just the pain of being used.

He fucked her harder, his hips driving into her so quickly that her knees nearly buckled. His fingers held her hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts, as his cock began to tickle, as the tightness grew in his balls.

“I’m gonna come in you. I’m going to blow my entire fucking wad up into your cunt. My baby juice is going to fill you up. My swimmers are going to race up your tight cunny, looking for that magic egg. You’ll be a momma this time next year. I’ll watch you pushing a stroller through here, and think about swinging by for another bang of your cunt, and drink some milk out of your big titties. Won’t that be fun?”

“Noooo,” she moaned but it was far too late for struggling. He held her impaled on his cock, driving the spurting tip deep into her belly, shoving the thick ropes of his jizz into her deepest tunnel. She knew, in that moment, that he had fucked a baby into her.

Still hard, he pulled away from her cunt, and rammed his way into her ass. Her scream as he broached her anus made him quiver, made him powerful.

“Take it up the ass, you cunty whore. Right up your ass pipe…”

He groaned, the head of his cock tender despite his hardness. A wash of sensations poured over him; her silent struggle to fight the entry of his dick into her ass, her butthole gripping tightly as if to keep him out.  With the tight ring of muscle squeezing on him like a fist he knew he was going to cum again. One hard push, he knew would do it. He pumped hard into her before the last of his cum was drained from him. He moaned to the feeling of her ass struggles, to her screaming that he was ripping her ass apart. He exulted in this final violation of her body. He was William the Conqueror, and he now owned this whore’s body. With a shaking quiver, the last of his seed spurted from him, into the ass that he now claimed as his.

“I own you now, slut.” He grabbed a fistful of hair, and pulled her upright. “I’ll be back next year to visit you…” He bit her bottom lip, “…and my son.” He then kissed her hard before pushing  his fingers into her slick pussy, fingering her roughly. She moaned, then came hard in his palm.

“Slut. Fucking dirty rape-whore.”

He pushed her to the floor.

“Stay there,” he said firmly.

In moments he was gone. He closed the door behind him as he dashed across the hall clad in his boxers and tee. Before heading to the shower, he asked his phone to remind him to return here for a visit, same time next year.

“I’ve set a reminder to suck the tit-milk of your babymomma on October 16, 2018,” replied his phone is a cheery voice.

Ah, technology. Wasn’t it great?!

Setting the phone aside, he locked the door, then disrobed and walked naked to the shower, whistling.




This is what a day off does to me… ~nilla~


“You filthy whore”

His words made her flinch. In her vanilla life, it was the epitome of horrific things to be called.  In his apartment, those nasty words only inspired her to deeper heat and a rising need to be fucked.

Now, his fingers buried deeply in her cunt, he’d found her soaked after he’d called her his personal cum bucket, after he’d pissed all over her tee-shirt. Her nipples had risen as the hot splash of urine cooled  quickly in the air conditioned room. He’d clamped them, over the doused shirt, laughing as her nose wrinkled and as she’d moaned.

“You love every fucking dirty thing, don’t you, you slut? You love to be called my holes, my fuckmeat, my ass-licking cunt. You get wetter the more I pull your hair, when I slap your face, when I gag you on my cock. Admit it.”

His hand slipped out of her cunt and into her mouth.

“Admit it, as you choke on my fingers. Lap them clean, taste your nasty needs. Right there, yes, your pussy juice tells me all.”

She sucked, licked, lapped his digits clean one by one. Soft sounds came from her throat, cooings of desire and need.

“Fuck me,” she whispered when his fingers slipped away. “Please, Master, fuck me…!”

Not a whine, he hated whining. A soft entreaty.

“What do you want, cunt? Speak up.”

She knew he loved when she talked dirty. She, the proper housewife. Head of the school PTA, proper wife of a prominent city lawyer, she lay, spread open on the hotel bed, her pussy lips glistening pink, swollen and wet.

“I need you to fuck my cunt, Sir. To slam your thick cock into me until I cry. I need you to slap me and use me hard, Sir. Please?”

He stood just a few feet away, his thick shaft in his hand, stroking it slowly. The head was swollen and red, and she knew he felt the same need to hurt as she did to be beaten. He walked to the chair, eyes on her, and reached for the thin leather paddle.

“Open your legs. Wider.”

A quick pop of the paddle on her pussy made her yelp. He didn’t start gently, nor slowly. The blows fell like rain from a hurricane, striking her pussy with a fierceness that made tears gather and fall. He struck her inner thighs, then the swelling bud of her clit took a hard blow.

She closed her legs. Just a little. Just enough.

He paused, eyes widening.

“You did not.”

“I’m sorry Master,” she stuttered. He dropped the paddle beside her, strode to the chair. Quickly he returned to the bed, grabbing a leg, and heaving it up towards her shoulder. With rough hands, he coiled the rope around her calf, then grabbing her wrist, completed the tie around her forearm. Rising, he attached the end of the rope to a ring in the wall.

She shivered, torn between a secret delight, and an open dread.

He made short work of attaching her other leg and arm to the second ring, and she was secured, thighs, pussy and ass exposed and unable to be protected.

She could see the look on his face. Her pussy oozed. He was going to beat her ass savagely. Instead, he approached the bed, ran his engorged cock up and down her slit.

“You fucking whore. You’re even wetter than you were before.”

He rammed his cock to the hilt into her gaping cunt. She gasped, moaning loudly. Wet though she was, her cunt was not ready for such an abrupt intrusion.

“Owww,” she moaned.

He pulled out, then drove into her again. His cock felt like it was bouncing off her ribcage, he drove so deeply into her. His hands curled around her hips, pulling her towards the end of the bed, her shoulders straining as the rope holding her drew taut.

“Now I’m lubed.”

That was the only warning she got, as his cockhead pressed against her anus. His hips drove forward, piercing the tight rosebud of her ass, popping into her rump with a nearly audible sound.

“Aaaah,” he groaned in pleasure. “Your ass is so fucking tight. I know you hate this. I love that you hate this.”

She whimpered as he jolted his hips forward, working his way deeper into her asshole. She felt stretched to the breaking point, certain her rectum would tear and bleed.

“It hurts so fucking much!” she yelped, gasping. Her voice was choked with tears.

“Good, fucking goood,” he replied. Pulling out, he shoved his dick deeply. They groaned simultaneously, he in pleasure, and she in pain.

“Oh my GAWDDD…”she shrieked. “FUCKING OWWW…you’re tearing my ass APART…!”





He grunted out each word with a pull out, and thrust in. Moments later, his body was slamming into her ass, his hips jackhammering into her unprotected ass. Black lines streaked her face as her mascara ran in rivulets from her eyes. Her mouth was open, gasping for breath at the invading shaft of man meat. His head was thrown back, his belly muscles quivering as he raped her fanny roughly.

She thought she would pass out from the pain.  Her eyes flew open when she felt something in her pussy.

“You’re drooling pussy juice.”

His fingers slid inside of her, diddling her roughly. His thumb rubbed over her clit as her ass was split on his cock. One finger, three fingers, and he was all but fisting her as he fucked her ass. She exploded, her cunt spasming around the wriggling digits. Her back arched, her mouth opened in a wide O of soundless pleasure. Her asshole squeezed tightly on the shaft still slipping in and out of it, milking him.

He came, buried deep in her ass. She came again, his fingers buried in her cunt. As his cock withdrew, she came again. When his fingers pinched her clit, aching after the multiple explosions, she jerked and felt the sudden splash of liquid.

“Now everything is wet. You cunt.”

He laughed.

Then he crawled up the bed, straddling her face, one leg over her head, his cock lined up with her mouth.

“Time to clean up,” he said.

She gulped. Ass to mouth was not on her list of things to experience. His eyes held hers, and she knew he was testing her, pushing her limits. For a long minute their eyes stayed locked. Her cunt throbbed even harder.

When her lips parted, she felt her pussy gush again.

HNT~ Back on Track

Similar to two weeks ago (how many new ways can you show tits, anyway?) but a touch of black rather than blue…20170917_1052552.jpg


And a pic (since I missed last week) from M and my last playtime…I love love love these shoes, and His leg there in the background as he was setting up things for play…20170827_134733


She felt the strike like a line of white hot fire across her back. She tried to arch, to scream, but though her need to writhe was fierce, the ropes tying her to the cross were far too tight to allow for any movement at all.

Bound wrists, ankles, thighs, arms, waist, and neck, all she could do was quiver.

The scream stayed locked behind her lips; only the most guttural of sounds came from her throat. The duct tape covering her mouth, holding her panties within tamped down all extraneous noises.

A new line of pain screamed over her backside, a thin ribbon of heavy pain. Sweat and tears ran down her face. Muscles bunched and quivered.

He was single-minded in his work, hitting the back of her legs, her ass, her shoulders. Cane, whip, flogger, she had no idea what implement was being used. She only knew she couldn’t take much more. The heat was unbearable. The hurt was equally so.

She blinked, washing sweat from her eyes with her tears.

A cool hand slid over her burning body.  Fingers probed her from a warm hand. There were no sounds she could hear, headphones over her head, playing classical music loudly enough to steal even that sense from her.

There had been many in the room watching. Now there were many in the room touching.

Her orgasm splashed the floor between her legs.

She couldn’t hear it.


I’ve had an amazingly difficult, emotional week. I had a physical thing that has temporarily marred me physically, and it blindsided me.

I’m vain, you see.

Yeah, I’m overweight, the short, round sub. But I’m still okay with how I look, until this past week.

I told Him he should uncollar me. That I couldn’t see him for a year until I heal.


First world, very vanity driven issues, nilla?


Sometimes we just can’t get out of own way, can we?

He sent me a text within MINUTES of my sending.

Get off your fucking pity party train.


He doesn’t care. *I* care enough for two of us, but to him? It’s a non-issue.

“Make a play date for late October, early November.”

I haven’t done that yet. I’m still feeling pretty sensitive, and though I’ve stopped the pity party tears, I am still not…not sure? I dunno. I want to be perfect for him, you know?

He just wants to beat me. The only thing *He* cares about is the color my ass will be when He’s done playing with me.

He’s pretty fucking awesome. And in that no-nonsense way of his, He has managed to quickly snap me out of the doldrums of what could have been a very serious fall into depression.

I was on the very edge of tetering into that black hole. He not only pulled me back, he threw a lasso around my neck and lifted me back. So far back that I’m starting to think about ….


You know…at the end of October.

Or early November.