Item of Submission

So....... do you have something personal you wear that makes you feel submissive?

While I would love to get one of those little necklaces with a guitar pick that has a spanked bottom on it,  I couldn't really wear that anywhere except in the bedroom and I am already submissive in there and Storm sees my very real pink spanked bottom up close because he just made it that way!

I wanted something that I could wear in private and public that may or may not attract attention and is not a problem either way, but that is not the point.   The purpose is in the way it makes me feel.  I have worn it during spankings, out to dinner, to family gatherings, and just around the house when I am wearing my pajamas.  People are none the wiser as to what it means.  But, I know and so does Storm.

I did a lot of searching for it online last year which is hard to do when you don't know exactly what you're looking for.  I started with looking at bdsm jewelry but it either had little or no meaning to me or it was just in general, too obvious.   So we had to get a little creative.
Riveted Rock Necklace

I refer to my necklace that is similar to these, but of a different color and shape, as my "submission necklace" or my "submissive stone" in private to Storm.  But, to everyone else it is a stone necklace or a riveted rock necklace.  It draws attention if someone likes it, but it does not invite questions that I cannot easily answer.  And I'm  thinking, "If you really knew what this piece of jewelry means to me....... "

In the definition of "Rivet," it says, "To fasten or secure."
Secure is a submissive and a dominant word to me because Storm emotionally secures me with his words and his love, and he physically secures me with his hand and his body.  He makes sure that we are financially secure. Storm holds me sometimes in the middle of a spanking when he wants to bring me up and talk to me, and my movement is somewhat more restrictive when I am bent over and his hand is on my back, neck, hip or holding on to my hair ..... in authority. Yum.

I am not required to wear this necklace, but, when I do wear it and I do so often, I feel just a little bit more submissive when I put it on after a shower.  And Storm notices it.   We were recently out to dinner, having a nice conversation, and I discover that he is not just looking at me, but kind of studying me as well with that certain look that he gets on his face specifically reserved for me only when he is drinking me in with his eyes.  His voice is loud enough for just me to hear, but somehow still deep and husky, "I like when you wear your submission necklace."   Swoon.

Feminine and Submissive -- Just by reading?

Practicing ttwd with Storm makes me feel more feminine.  Before I started blogging and receiving feedback from you gals, it never occurred to me that many other women would feel more feminine because of ttwd, too.  My gosh, how could I not know this?  But, I promise you it is the absolute truth that because of my extreme athleticism, I just don't feel girly.  And you know what?  I don't really want to BE girly and I never have.  Although my wedding dress would beg to differ now that I think about it.  And we had pastels as the colors for the groomsmen and bridesmaids.  That's kind of girly, isn't it?  The best way for me to describe my wedding dress (because I absolutely refuse to go look any up here online because that is GIRLY!)........ is one of those interesting looking accordion toilet plungers with the ripples ......   a big white one made of Cool Whip....... throw some lace over that, shove me in the top of it  and there's my wedding dress.  I don't remember caring what anyone else thought of my dress except for Storm.  I couldn't wait for that moment when my father had walked me just far enough down the aisle where Storm would come into view for the first time that day.  I was so nervous that I was glad to finally see him and then finally GET TO HIM at the altar.  Whew!

I enjoy putting on sexy panties and bras for Storm though..... as long as they don't poke me in weird places.   And as long as Storm doesn't poke me in weird places either! Just kidding, if you're reading this, Honey! (I know you are!  You can poke me anywhere you want, just keep in mind that BDSM checklist I filled out ten years ago first, k?  You also won't find any FF that I write on PK's blog that is about me wanting my Hard Limits crossed either! No thank you!)  HA!

But, what girl do you know that puts on fishing waders one minute and then wants to be naked bent over her husband's lap, getting her butt slapped the next?   Me!  Reeling in a 2 foot fish earlier in the day and then on my knees giving Storm a blow job later......  that's me, too!  And, yes, I showered first, thanks for asking!  As a matter of fact, we both end up in the shower and then some soapy gratitude and servitude on my part takes place in there sometimes!

Before practicing ttwd, I always thought of blow jobs as sexual and something nice to do for Storm.  But, I never felt submissive about it. I never even thought about that.   But, once the dd started........ changed my whole attitude about it.  It is absolutely completely submissive to me and Storm now.  We learned that the wife getting on her knees and giving her husband the gift of oral sex because of the time and attention and dominance he gives during the spanking was a natural thing to do.  This is one of the first things I ever read about spanking and dd and it shocked me, but in a very hot way.   The submission part also pulled me into the whole idea (with spanking being essential otherwise I wouldn't be a submissive anything!)  and I knew I wanted to do it as long as Storm didn't think it was crazy.  Well, you all know the answer to that as here we are 9 years later!

Because of life's circumstances over the years, there have naturally been stops and starts to our ttwd. Whenever I would start reading about dd or ttwd online in the few places I could find them, (way before I found you gals), I'd get it all in my head again and wonder if we could find the time and space and privacy to practice it.  I shared this with Storm.  Well, he told me something very interesting.  He said that he could tell that I had been reading about dd again before I brought it up to him.  I asked him how he knew this.   Storm,"I can tell a difference in you."   Me, "Just because I was reading it and not even talking with you about it?"   Him, "Yes. It isn't that you become a different person, you're just softer, more aware of me and of yourself around me, your attitude is different."   Wow.  I really liked that.   The power of the written word on a ttwd gal's mind.  Amazing!

Oh so Suite - When you get what you asked for

The second and final night of our recent stay in our hotel..........

Taking our sweet time because that's what we do on vacation, we headed to Barnes and Noble before we went out to dinner.  Because it was laid out completely different than ours back home, we took in the new releases up front and stood together as we looked around and got our bearings of the store.  I recognized one or two titles that you gals have recently mentioned on your blogs and I smiled to myself.  Storm and I spent some time together and apart because I don't want to be in the computer book section where he likes to hang out and he doesn't like looking at the writing journals and stationary and cards area where I was leaning toward this time. However, one of us will always end up in the other one's section when we have exhausted the possibilities within our own, or to find the other one when we're hungry, or horny.

In years past, before books were so readily available on Nooks and Kindles and all that jazz, I would definitely be hunkering down in the romance section which I enjoyed most.  Not that these books weren't descriptive, but if you really wanted to find erotic literature, you had to know where to look.  Self-help, Psychology, Literature, and Fiction in general.  And it's not like I would have ever gone up to a salesperson to ask if he or she knew of anything in between the two extremes of Vanilla Books or those more Rocky Road.  Sandra Brown versus Anne Rice for example.  Storm and I would sometimes huddle up and stumble upon interesting titles such as  The Joy of Sex or we discovered some kind of erotic anthology, but for the most part, we didn't buy them.  We lost and caught our collective breath enough sometimes just looking, reading, and learning in the store, and then headed out to the car and found some deserted dark parking lot and got semi-nekkid (and once totally naked for me!)   Well why don't you look in those sections anymore, Windy, especially on this little romantic getaway?   Because they don't have books called, The Joy of Getting Your Ass Spanked, TTWD for You and for Me, Red Rover-Red Rover Bend Windy Right Over,  War and a Piece of my Ass, or The Postman Always Smacks Twice. (Although I think I could write a couple of those myself and those that I can't, I can probably find similar stories on YOUR blogs.  Thank you, by the way!)

After we were done at the bookstore, we headed toward the steakhouse we had chosen earlier.   You know one of those times where you get exactly what you ask for -- when the descriptions of each entree on the menu jump out at you and when your food arrives, it is the exact taste, smell, and texture that you imagined?  I love when this happens! As Storm ordered for me for the first time,  I sliced up the warm loaf of bread they had brought out, I buttered a piece for him and prepared his little plate before mine, and I felt feminine for doing so for some reason.  (I'm sure I still looked like a fumbling jock trying to butter the bread with a hockey stick, but I didn't feel that way this time.) When the appetizer of stuffed mushrooms arrives, I looked down at my already unrolled out of my napkin silverware and I realize I have 2 forks to choose from.  They look identical to me and  I wondered which one was the salad fork and which one was the dinner fork. Eyes peeled, I lift both utensils, one in each hand, testing the weight, wondering if that would somehow help me to tell the dang difference.  Nope. I narrowed my eyes and I put them back down on the plate (the forks, not my eyes) and I stared at them a little harder.  Taking a deep breath, I channeled my inner TTWD gals who I imagined to be the Fine-Diners, The-Cross-Country-Trippers, The Sophisticated-Across- the-Pond-Ladies........ Something about the number of tines??  They had the same number.  Ugh!  So then I channeled my inner TTWD gals who I imagined to be more Go-With-the-Flow, Fake-It-'Til-You-Make-It, and members of the Non-Worriers-Club ...... and I quickly decided "forget it" was the answer and picked up one of the forks, certain no one would boycott me in blog land when the time came for me to admit my social ineptitude.  And, yes, I knew at that very second that I would be blogging this little funny part of my night.  You can take the writer out of blog land, but you can't take the blog land friendships out of the writer.

We were having a great time at dinner, but in the middle of it, the hostess sat a couple in the booth behind us.  I knew this by hearing and not seeing, as Storm was facing them and I was not.  The man was a bit loud and this grated on my nerves.  I do not want to hear other people's conversations while Storm and I are trying to have our own.  I don't expect people whisper, but for flip's sake, could they TRY to keep it down?  The answer is a big fat NO.   So when the waitress came to take his order, she asked if him if he wanted a salad and his inappropriate answer was, "No, I get enough roughage."  Good grief, the things servers have to put up with!  So she walks away and his wife/girlfriend says something to him about the salad and he replies,  "I don't need the roughage.  My shits are fine."  Really? This is NOT what I want to hear during a nice steak dinner.  I just look across at Storm and whispered to him what the guy had said.  Carefully and undetected, Storm presses his index finger and middle finger together and points to his own teeth and shaking his head "no."  This means the dude has no front teeth.  The idiot just ordered a steak!  I look at Storm with big eyes like, "How's he going to eat steak?"  Storm spreads his two fingers and points to his incisors or bicuspids or whatever the heck isn't anywhere near the front teeth.  I just laugh and shake my head and hope I didn't have to hear anymore about this guy's bodily functions.  Sadly, although Storm and I were on a little get-away, we didn't make it outside our own state and so this toothless redneck was our demonym.  But, I can almost guarantee that I voted differently than he did, if he voted at all.

Speaking of bodies, when we got back to our hotel suite, I was looking for my girly pajamas to put on for Storm, but I had not yet found them or started to disrobe myself.  Unbeknownst to me, Storm had opened the curtains on one side of the suite as it was still somewhat light out.  "Don't whip out a tit or anything right now, " he tells me.  I looked at him like he had grown 3 extra heads.  "What?  Even if we were home, I wouldn't 'whip out a tit' at you...... what are you talking about?"  Storm, "There's a guy walking a German Shepherd right outside our window."   And then I thought about it for about 2 more seconds and realized he was right to warn me because there have been plenty of times when I have flashed him my boobs while he is sitting in his office chair on a conference call with the French Doors to his home office shut.  I stand on the other side until I get his attention and then flash and press certain body parts against the glass to make him smile.  He often claps softly and taps his foot to his own rhythm overly enthusiastically like an old man at a tent revival with a grin on his face, knowing that if he stops the hoopla, then the show will stop, too.

A little later, Storm propped himself up on pillows, sat against the headboard and then I put down a pillow across his legs/lap and another one beneath my forearms to support me.  I was naked and he was naked except for his underwear.  He provided for me a very nice long hand spanking with the lecture even though I wasn't in trouble or being corrected.  Why is the spanking so much more with a lecture than without it?   All of what he says, I enjoy, and get turned on by, and as things get more intense, so do his words.  We shifted into making love and while he was still inside me he started saying things to me that he would say during spankings. Oh my gosh ........  right to the core of why I love practicing ttwd with my husband.  Sometimes you get more than what you asked for ...........

People Need to Know

People need to know you love them.  They need to know on ordinary days..... not because they just did something special for you....... although it is wonderful if they did........

People need to know you're rooting for them.  Everyone is not a cheerleader and we as women are especially hard on ourselves and unfortunately hard on each other as well.  Women need to get together and stick together.  I know we all don't "float each others' boats"....... I don't think anyone wants pseudo friends...... but the least we can do is truly want the best for one another.

People need to know they matter.  Too often, people feel cast aside.

People need to know they are needed.

People need to know they have made a difference in our lives.

People need to know that even though they may be very different from us, it is actually because they are different from us, that we can learn something valuable from them.

People need to know you're sorry and they need to hear it.  Never assume they realize it.

You can't make it up.  If you don't feel it or believe it, then don't say it.  But, if you do feel it and believe it, tell them because people really do need to know.

So to those of you who know me well, I love you, (and if our friendship is brand new or still getting off of its feet, then I like you and I have love for you from one ttwd gal to another.)  To everyone, I'm rooting for you, I want the best for you, you matter, I need you, you have made a difference in my life, I have learned so much from you because of our differences, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you, I am not making any of this up and this is what I want you to know.  (And, Grammarly would like you all to know that it forgives me for that huge run-on-whatever sentence I just wrote.)

Windy


*****Exception:  If you are by some bizarre chance reading here and you are sometimes identified as "45" and you're orange...... I do not love you and get the heck off my blog. *****

Thumbs Up - Hotel Spanking

For the first time in over five years, Storm and I were about to have two nights alone. Could you hear the angels singing?  We could!  We've never spanked in a hotel until now...........

With our noses ever grateful that the staff management took care to make sure it didn't feel or smell stale in our room,  we walk into the hotel suite and the coolness of the air conditioning envelops our warm bodies. We set down one fourth of all of our luggage and look around at whatever it was we had blindly signed ourselves up for.  Our eyes feast upon the lovely king size bed because at home ours is a little smaller.  The next thing we notice is that there is a huge 9 foot long desk dividing the bedroom from the living room. The executive chair sits proudly behind the desk,  facing the mammoth bed.  Since Storm had reserved the room himself, I ask him, "Are you going to play 'Let me be the boss for a while?' or 'Spank the Secretary?' "   Storm surveys what he has paid for (the room, not me), "Hmm. Maybe."    We could have easily played both as it was a perfect set up for either scenario, but Storm had his own plans in mind.  Or he just went with the flow, I do not know because I did not ask.  Storm heads out for Carrying As Much Luggage as Possible, Round 2.

I start to put away things that need to be refrigerated.  We had snacks sent with us prepared by our gracious hosts with whom we had spent the previous 3 nights.  We only traveled halfway toward home to this hotel, but they sent with us chilled snacks including homemade trail mix, fresh fruit, and bulls eyes.  Apparently they feared our fat assess couldn't travel 60 miles without stuffing our fists down our throats like each of us was a 1-year-old baby intent on mastering that eye-hand-mouth-coordination thing of picking up Cheerios with a chubby fist from his high chair tray and then without opening his hand, shoving them in his mouth, fist and all.  Reach for another one and repeat!  We're not Italian or Southern nor do we descend from any of those kinds of wonderful heritages known for their special cuisines, but somehow our people always worry we don't have enough to eat anyway.  Perhaps they felt indebted to Storm because he helped our hosts restore two of their computers to working order and reconnected and reprogrammed two of their dish televisions with their new remote controls.  Where we were for those few days, I spent a lot of time during the daylight hours fishing........ and yes, enough was caught for dinner!  WooHoo!

After all the unpacking and checking out our sweet but temporary digs, we ordered dinner and Storm went to pick it up.  I changed into some cute pajamas that do not leave a whole lot to the imagination, perhaps the sort of thing some of you gals wear regularly during summer nights.  (It is October and it is supposed to be fall weather, but we are having an Indian summer where we live.)  But, for me, they're quite feminine jammies and they show much more skin than I normally would leave exposed at home anywhere outside of the bedroom.

Hours later, I lowered myself on my stomach to the fresh smelling clean sheets on the bed and Storm began to caress my now bared bottom.  He said some romantic things and some kinky stuff as he began smacking my cheeks with his bare hand which caught my interest because normally, he'll use our strap paddle.  My body and mind remember the feeling of his hard hand slapping my rear end over and over much like he did in our early dd days years and years ago.  As a result, I started to get a bit heated in more ways than one.  I'd be lying if I didn't wonder how loud it might be to someone in the hallway, but I knew we had an employee room on one side and a furnace room on other side, and we never saw anyone coming and going. We were about to do the coming ourselves, although I really hate that word except for when Storm says it in some way to me then it is kinky.  Reading the word bothers me a little less when it is spelled old school style.  Anyway, noise is something we worry about at home.  Tonight, I truly let it all go and I quickly decided that I did not care.

Sometimes I look back and ask Storm what he is doing.  Other times, I just look back over my shoulder to see what he is doing...... this time I just decided to feel.   I know that I have never written a spanked to orgasm fantasy and I also know that I never specifically shared that fantasy with Storm (or anyone else!).   I think fantasies can be played out, but with mixed results.  Perhaps because I wasn't expecting it at all, the whole thing more than met my expectations! Anyway, back to the me deciding to just feel it.  I did not know what he was doing exactly, but I was on my hands and knees in the middle of the bed now and he was pretty much directly behind me looking and touching.  The spanking part was behind me, too.  I couldn't do anything but pant and purr at what he was doing with his hands.  For about fifteen seconds I actually tried to figure out the logistics, but I ultimately decided it felt so good that I did not care!  I just wanted more!  Well, I wanted more of the same..... whatever rhythm he had going, I just wanted him to keep doing that.  He didn't need to speed up, slow down, or change directions...... sometimes one of those is what our sweet guys think they should do as they feel us ladies getting more excited.  I remember when we were first married and we were still learning one another's bodies and before we had any kind of access, needs or wants for a vibrator........ Storm trying to make the rubbing so intense for me on my umm... skittle?  It was almost as if he was rubbing and imagining he was Lady Macbeth with the whole "Out, damned spot!" thing.  Okay, so there was none of that tonight........ and he was really playing my tune with such dexterity that I did not care how or what I was singing.   No vibrator needed, it was getting that good.  Then with no forethought whatsoever, I whispered, "Spank me." And he did.  Only 30 seconds later, I was in heaven and even the angels were impressed with my singing.  And then I became the female Pied Piper, played Storm's skin flute, and lured his snake not vermin.

Storm asked me afterwards, "So was 2 the magic number for you?"   I had honestly forgotten to ask him!  "Oh, yes, what in the world were you doing?  Using two fingers?"   Storm, "Yes, one finger on your clit and my thumb--"   Me, "Wait! Your thumb?!!"    Him, "Yes, my thumb was inside......"    Me, "You thumbed me?  I've been thumbed?"   Huh.  Who knew?!  We laughed.  I don't care if I was "big toed." Whatever he did, I didn't have to see it, I only had to feel it, and nobody heard but us.

Pull up a Chair

Storm takes care of me, I take care of him, and we both take care of us.  Storm was all set for our outdoor adventure the other day in which I fish and he plays my bodyguard to keep me safe from suspicious looking fellows in our redneck area of our beloved state.  Earlier he came home from the grocery store and surprised me with a bunch of snacks for the afternoon.  Whenever we have various snacks at one time, we affectionately call it "a carpet picnic" from the movie Pretty Woman -- soft soft soft core naughtiness for vanilla newlyweds back in the 1990's.  It worked for us.  Storm is in charge of bringing whatever reading material he wants and his carpet picnic.   He puts them in a canvas man bag that I bought him for this specific purpose and for vacations.  However, it does make me laugh when he throws it over his shoulder and off he goes down the slippery hillside in search of a much coveted fishing spot (by me).  He also carries the big fishing net, and his special camping chair with its matching carrying case slung over his other shoulder.  And, no I did not call him Nancy, but I did ask him if he had his purse and I did not get in trouble for this because he is assured in his manhood as am I, otherwise I wouldn't have bought him the bag if he refused to use it.

I, who am not always so sure of my womanhood, am dressed in men's waders and giant ass fishing boots that are 2 sizes too big for me, but the waterproof sock parts of the waders are so big on me, that I have to stuff them in larger boots. So together we toddle down the slippery slope that leads to the creek, both of us lugging all of our gear and we set up on the rocks below.  We don't do a whole lot of talking because the river rapids are noisy, but in a very pleasant way.  I am paying attention to what I am doing and he is doing whatever he does in his camping chair.  A couple of hours into the trip, I happen to look over at Storm eating his snacks and he only slightly resembles Winnie The Pooh with his cute little (big) gut.  I am laughing typing this ........ at what is coming.....   I just happen to be looking directly at him when I hear a POP! and I watch him fall about 9 inches through his triangular shaped chair.  I was laughing so hard that I couldn't fish for the next 15 minutes.  Of course, in the first 5 seconds, I make sure he is okay and his answer was this hilarious word he made up whenever he does something that he thinks is daft or if he messes something up....... "Beeeep" but it comes from the back of his throat while his tongue is tucked under his front lip. (Take a second to try it yourself.)  Me, "Are you okay?"  He's still fallen through the chair, but he says immediately, "Beeeep!"   That was it, I lost it.   Next come the one liners.  "I'm lucky I wasn't leaning forward or the pole would have shoved my nuts up to my chin."    See why I couldn't even hold my fishing pole in the water?  I was bent over laughing, which is my 2nd favorite kind of bending over to do..... wait..... 3rd.....  spanking, you-know-what, and then laughing.  And then because I sometimes use salmon eggs to fish with in a little net called a "spawn sac"............  Storm says, "You almost got to fish with my nut sack."    More hilarity ensues.

A couple of hours or so later, we are back home, cleaning up and doing whatever to get ready to watch Stephen Colbert's opening monologue and I look over at Storm now sitting in his living room chair and truly having a carpet picnic with his leftover snacks.  I just start laughing all over again.  "Really? More snacks?  The camping chair incident wasn't enough for you?"   Apparently not.  I'm surprised he didn't say, "Oh, bother," just like that sweet bear with his honey pot.

The Book of Salmon

Storm took me salmon fishing for a short couple of hours at the creek this evening.  He does this unselfishly as he does not  like to fish and is not a fan of being out in nature.  He gets itchy.  He brings his book and his semi-comfortable chair. He knows a lot from reading and watching documentaries and whatever other things there are that smart people do to keep life learning afloat. Then he stands for a while and goes on salmon watch and points them out and yells to me when he sees the giant kings running up the river to spawn.  Last week, there were a lot of fish, but they were not biting at all....... when they want to spawn, the only way you can get them to hit is to make them angry by throwing flashy and colorful "spoons and spinners" into the water and hope  they bite out of aggression. So many passed right at our feet and would not bite.  Storm could have easily hit one or two of them over the head with his book and we could have scooped them up and had fish for dinner.  But, that is illegal and not nice, so we did not do that.  It was wonderful to see so many running up the river.  Today, I had my waders on and was in the river itself fishing.  It is amazing to be in only 2 and a half feet of water, but to have the current be so strong that it  pulls and/pushes against me, throwing me off kilter. The bottom is slick with mud and slimy rocks so I have to be very careful not to slip and fall face first into the water and then have it all rush down the front of my waders ........ day over when that happens unless it is a very hot summer day and you don't care about being all wet.   But, in the fall on a 60 degree weather day, no thank you, cold water in my bra and underwear.

For some, it would have been an easy answer to not follow the laws and not respect nature and figure out an easy way to catch these giant fish that were not biting.  Sticking your net right in the current is one way,  "snagging" them with a very sharp treble hook is another way.  I have witnessed people do the latter and it is unpleasant.   In order to catch a fish legally, you have to hook him in the mouth.  You cannot intentionally get your hook stuck anywhere else across the body and drag it to shore (snagging).  It is common to accidentally hook one in the back.  Yes, you do bring him ashore, but it is  called a foul hook and you legally have to let the fish go back into the wild after you carefully remove the hook.

Ever been hit over the head with a book?   Not nice.   Ever bit hit over the head with the Bible figuratively or literally?  Not cool either.  I think that is kind of like a  religious 'foul hook.'   It is not how the Bible was intended to be used in my old and suspicious brain's opinion.  That's misusing the equipment.  It is generally considered safe and healthy when you want to catch your food fairly and put dinner on the table.  You don't mistreat the fish, you're respectful of it.  You don't hit it over the head with a book.   Well,  as a human I don't want to be hit over the head with the Book anymore either.  I'm emotionally bruised and battered from it.  Windy, who is hitting you over the head with it?  Pffft.  A better question would be who isn't?   No wonder I get migraines!

So for some that is the answer ....... do whatever it is you have to do to cheat, to hurt, to be selfish, to get your way, to impose your own will,  and get your big fish any way you can...... but not for me.  Not with my faith and not with salmon fishing.  Two completely different things, but I am going to play them both the way that I think God intended for me.

And if I think of God as the great HOH, I know mine isn't waiting for me around the corner of the bedroom and then is going whap!! me when I am unaware and scare the life out of me.  Likewise, Storm doesn't chase me around the house with a giant paddle and he doesn't smack me anywhere else on my body except for where it is is legal which is my big fat rear end.