Senior gift ideas for the school that are cheap

Not sure if this is the best community to post this in, so please direct me if there’s someplace better to gain some advice.
I’m currently in my mid 30’s, F, single, live alone. My older brother is in his late 30’s and married. We have a younger half brother who is 20 and has very pronounced autism (I’m so sorry of this isn’t appropriate lingo, I’m fairly uneducated in this area, so please correct me). I’m not sure of his exact diagnosis, (my dad and step mom were in denial about it for years when he was young and have been pretty cagey about discussing it since he was officially diagnosed) but he ended up going to grade school at a school that serves kids who have autism, and he’s currently in a post grad program where they help the graduates transition into a post school life, where he rotates through different jobs to learn the ropes and such.
He is unable to drive and my dad and step mom don’t seem to like him to be on his own so he often goes to his grandmother’s house when neither of them can watch him. So he requires a fair amount of care in the form of continuous supervision.
I honestly don’t know a lot more than this because I’m not particularly close with my dad or step mom. I pretty much only see them for Christmas, father’s day, and major life events like a family member’s graduation or a funeral, etc.
Both my dad and step mom have beens diagnosed with cancer in the past couple of years. This prompted my dad to call me one day about 6 months ago and note that their entire estate would be left to my younger brother (which I have always assumed would be the case and completely agree with) and it would be put into a trust which he wants my older brother and I to oversee. He then said he wants us all to get together to put it in writing and hammer out the details.
We haven’t had this conversation yet, but my feeling is that the expectation is that my younger brother would live with me. As much as I love him, I just don’t think that is a good idea. I have pretty severe mental health issues of my own (chronic depression, PTSD, anxiety, have been previously baker acted, etc) that my dad and step mom don’t know much about because we’re not close. It takes everything for me to take care of myself I don’t think I would be able to take care of another person. Not full time. And my older brother and his wife are considering moving out of state soon, so I don’t know that uprooting my younger brother completely to go live with them out of state would be a great option either.
So my question is, when I do eventually sit down with my family and we are able to talk about how to best handle the care of my younger brother, what are the options if he’s unable to live with neither me nor my older brother? The trust won’t be nothing but it won’t be an endless well of money. Probably the value of my dad and step mom’s house, plus maybe a 401k or something? Again, we’re not close plus they are pretty indirect with details about anything, so I honestly have no idea.
I feel like such a pos for not being able to just step up and say he can live with me full time. But I do want to help anyway I can, I just don’t know what the options are beyond that and I want to come with solutions.

I have been around Spanish for roughly the past 15 years. I took Spanish I, II, & III in high school, I played professional baseball after high school (many of my teammates were Spanish-speaking from the Dominican, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, & Mexico). After baseball, I spent a lot of time on Duolingo (I had a 700-day streak at one point!), but I never quite got it.
My flair is level 3 because I decided to start fresh on the platform, and I have logged about 200 hours over the last ~7 months. My grasp of the language has improved much more quickly since I started using CI as my primary mode of acquiring the language. I use a mixture of Dreaming Spanish, Lingopie, and play adventure video games in Spanish (currently replaying Ghost of Tsushima).
All of the work in school and almost two years on Duolingo really only taught me how to translate individual words. But I would be so frustrated because as soon as I came across native media or a native speaker spontaneously, it would be like I couldn't hear anything. Or I would get the first 4 words and try to translate them in my head, but the rest of the sentence would be lost.
One big difference is that I have a much more natural understanding of how the language fits together and sentence structure. I can think of an idea that I want to express, and if I open my mouth to express it, the words come out, just like in English.
There are some artifacts from all of the time that I spent trying to learn Spanish in the traditional way. I still get some words mixed up quite a bit (llegar & llevar are the biggest ones). Because I was first in the habit of translating, false cognates will mess me up (embarazada does not mean embarrassed ... usually lol).
For those of you who are new, I highly recommend comprehensible input as the primary mode of language acquisition.

want to buy robux but are there still robux gift cards in Singapore? or has it been removed like iTunes/only can be purchased using card like razer gold. i cant find any at my nearby 711s
also, I've been seeing some listings online for a Robux top-up with login required, and the prices are quite cheap. the reviews say its authentic, but I'm afraid that they may be using some illegal payment method or loophole or something that just breaks the rules and the accounts that purchased under their purchased method can get banned (they said that they will not be responsible for any ban in the description) is this safe? thank u!

Our mission is the single greatest mission that has ever been asked of any community, nation or alliance, and that mission is to provide our children, their children and their children's children a realistic and reasonable opportunity for a healthy and sustainable future.
Job #1: Pandemics/epidemics.
Job #2: Rebuild and strengthen our democratic institutions, processes and values.
Job #3: This is THE BIG IDEA! Schools for learning, money to pay for what needs to be done, and physical surroundings that are conducive to good health for our children.

Hello and thanks in advance,
I currently own a 2017 FZ-07 and am considering replacing it with a 2015 Bolt R-Spec.
The reason being is that I’d like something that both my wife and I could fit on around town and on short little trips (2-3 hours). The FZ is fun, but isn’t really made for taking a passenger along.
Currently I use my bike to commute to work, which is mostly city. I also commute to school, which is mostly highway, so I’d say 50/50.
My main questions are:
Would the Bolt feel powerful enough to take my wife and I on short trips around town comfortably?
We’d also like to be able to visit her family a couple hours away, and the interstate speed limit is 80. Would the Bolt be able to handle that?
Would I feel like I downgraded? I know in terms of raw performance my FZ comes out on top. But also I like the idea of being able to comfortably cruise, with and without my wife. I’m not a crazy speed demon, or at least I don’t try to be 😂 but I would like something with the ability to get up and go.
If anyone has any other suggestions for around $6-7k, in all ears. My bike is paid off and I really don’t want to spend more than $1-2k on top of what I get for my bike.
Thank you!

hi guys <3
i’m a 23f who has never talked to anyone romantically before, never been on a date before, never kissed anyone before, never been in a relationship before, never had sex before, etc etc. i graduated college and i’ve been a nurse for a little bit and am at a point in my life where i would appreciate having a significant other, but seriously feel like i’m destined to die alone (genuinely)
for context: growing up i faced a lot of bullying and dehumanizing comments related to my skin color, and for a majority of my life, i felt like romance was not something i deserved to experience and that it would never be written in the stars for me. i had abysmal self confidence and self worth, and it wasn’t until i was about 19/20 years old when i realized that i was actually attractive. i’ve navigated a majority of my life thinking i was vile and horrid, so i never did anything like download dating apps, go out to try to meet people, make an instagram and post, try to talk to guys, etc. luckily once i started college, i started doing a lot of self actualization and self healing, saw a psychiatrist and got medicated, saw a dietician for my ed, grinded through nursing school, passed my nclex, and got my big girl job. however, throughout college i was so engulfed in studying and getting good grades that I never took initiative to try to meet people, and i was also a commuter which made things even worse. also in nursing school, almost my entire class was comprised of young women so i honestly didn’t really have that many options to choose from, especially because we were all in the same classes together with the same people. this is the first time in my life where i haven’t been distracted by school, and i’m constantly reminded of my loneliness and how chronically single i am.
now i’m 23 years old, and i truly have no idea where to start. i downloaded hinge for like 3 days and it wasn’t the greatest experience lol. a majority of the men on there were looking for “something casual” or “trying to figure out my dating goals” or I didn’t find them attractive or they had ridiculous red flags on their profile. i live in the south and whenever i go out and see attractive people, it’s like everyone is either already in a relationship or married. and people are always like “focus on yourself, love yourself, focus on hobbies, it’ll come when you least expect it!!!”, i go hiking, i color, i play video games, i go shopping, i go to different coffee shops, etc. and i’m tired of doing everything alone because that’s what i’ve been doing my entire life. i don’t drink so i don’t go to bars, and almost all of the bars in my city are college bars so there’s a lot of teenagers/early 20-something undergrads there. i’m at a point where i truly have no idea what to do, and i’m starting to question my self worth again and can’t help but ask what’s wrong with me and why it is that i have yet to find even one semi-normal person that likes me romantically and that i like romantically. i can’t help but feel like i’m doomed and truly unloveable. idek if the location is maybe the issue and that i just need to change cities/states. motor mouth session over, i would appreciate any advice!! <33

No announcement about the new game was made in the festival.
I finally went to the Tales of Festival again and will try my best to write out what I remember from the special skit (hopefully the replay is posted eventually so everyone can enjoy it).
(I also briefly summarized the Tales of Abyss Yokohama Arena skit here from last time I went)
Since it's from memory, I can't remember all the details (so some details might be a bit off or in the wrong order) and who said what, so I'll just say someone when I don't remember who said it.
There aren't any major plot point spoilers (except for Symphonia) in this post, but there are of course small references to things that have happened in some games, so if you don't want to get spoiled about any detail then please don't read this (or read with caution).
Main Members that appeared in 6/2's festival:
Zelos (Tales of Symphonia) - Main Host
Shionne (Tales of Arise) - Assistant Host
Lloyd, Sheena (Tales of Symphonia)
Luke (Tales of Abyss) - long hair version
Yuri, Rita, Raven (Tales of Vesperia)
Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)
Velvet, Laphicet (Tales of Berseria)
Alphin, Dohalim (Tales of Arise)
Veigue (Tales of Rebirth) - special guest for the festival whose participation wasn't announced in advanced (he jokingly asked the audience to continue to keep it a secret but I'll have to betray his trust here for the greater good)
So the theme for this time's Tales of Festival is the Cultural Festival (the event that Japanese schools hold)), and the main act the party was going to perform at the festival was a play.
First, we started out with the script that Zelos wrote: Tales of Hero Lloyd, a tale about Lloyd defeating the two evils - Yuri (an assassin obsessed with crepes) and Luke (a high ranking bandit). Lloyd swiftly defeats the two with a single Tiger Blade
Lloyd got annoyed with Zelos continuously praising him and making him out to be this great grand hero so rejected his script.
They didn't know what to do without Zelos' script, but then Dohalim entered the stage, excited to participate in the school festival. It turned out Dohalim wasn't included in the actor list for the play in the Cultural Festival so people were worried about what to do, but-
Dohalim: Don't worry, I thought something like this might happen so I prepared my own play in advance
and everyone was like, but we don't have any scripts
Dohalim: Don't worry, I thought something like this might happen so I prepared everyone's script in advance
Dohalim's play was about Shionne's journey to eat a bunch of food, who was determined to carry out her quest even if she had to do it alone (Shionne: actually, I would prefer to carry out this quest alone)
There was a big plate of meat buns, and Alphin offered to help, but Shionne quickly rejected his offer.
Alphin: Okay, you can do it alone, but you at least have to add this hot sauce to the meat buns
Dohalim: And so, the conflict between the two continued... and the only way to resolve their conflict is by... dancing
Alphin and Shionne do a quick dance for the crowd
Shionne: What kind of script is this, why do I have to be a glutton. Rejected.
With another script rejected, the party was once again at a loss, but then Sorey entered the stage.
Sorey: I gathered a bunch of play ideas from the people who couldn't attend today's Tales of Festival
everyone: Great!!
Sorey: First, I have an idea from Mikleo... Tales of... Ruins (as in ruin exploration)! Wow, what a great idea!!! This is so exciting!
Someone: The only two people who would think that's a good idea is you and Mikleo...
Sorey: Okay... Next is an idea from Flynn.
Yuri: Flynn? Yeah, there's no way this idea is going to be good.
Sorey: Tales of... The Imperial Knights!
Yuri: Yeah, just what you would expect.
Sorey: Okay... Next is an idea from Jade.
Luke: Jade? This is going to be trouble
Sorey: Tales of... (some sort of small animal that looks like a tadpole, I forgot). Everyone will dress up as that animal and perform a play like that
Someone: What kind of idea is that, he just wants to see us in those outfits
With all of those scripts rejected, the party was once again at a loss. But then Laphicet enters the stage
Laphicet: How about my idea? Tales of... Velvet!
Velvet enters the stage, and Laphicet goes on about how cool and beautiful Velvet is.
Someone: All I got from that was how cool and beautiful Velvet is.
Laphicet: What?? Really?
The party couldn't agree on anything, and then the "Spirit of Plays" (represented by a statue on the stage) got mad and threatened to collapse Yokohama Arena if they don't come up with a play that can satisfy it. The play they come up with has to include three scenes: a battle scene, an emotional scene, and a cooking scene.
Everyone was at a loss - how could they come up with a play that includes all of those scenes on such short notice?
Someone: Well, I have an idea. How about we just do a play based on the Tales series itself? That would definitely include all three scenes.
Someone else: But that's way too long, how can we perform such a long story?
Someone: Well, we'll just have to condense the story then. And since we don't have all the necessary characters here, some people will just have to perform other roles.
So they began their play of "Super fast" Tales of XXX (as in they summarize the plot and do it super quickly).
First up was, Super Fast Tales of Symphonia
Lloyd played Lloyd, Velvet played Colette, Laphicet played as Genis
(note that when someone plays a role that isn't them, they combined their names. Ex. Colette in Japanese = coretto, Velvet in Japanese = berubetto, combined = Corubeto. Sheena playing as Tear = Shia. But I'll just write their original names for simplicity)
Lloyd: Here are my good friends Colette and Genis, and we're going on an adventure together!
Genis (Laphicet): Yay!!!
Colette (Velvet): *No response*
Lloyd: Colette... it can't be... you lost your feelings?
Then Zelos comes barging in the stage
Zelos: Okay this plot is progressing way too quickly!!!
Zelos: And why is my role a dog when I actually appear in Tales of Symphonia?!?
Zelos is then on the ground and Colette (Velvet) kicks him away while this plays on the main screen
They banter a bit and then Velvet gets fed up with it and just says she'll just devour anything in her way, daemon or spirit (the pronunciation for spirit and malak are the same in Japanese)
With Velvet fed up with her role, Zelos ends up playing as Colette, and they proceed to do the coffee scene
First part of the coffee scene plays out as normal, and then-
Lloyd: I lied. It's actually hot.
Colette (Zelos): ... Well, hot or cold, doesn't matter to me. All I want is a hot hot time with you Lloyd!!!
Colette (Zelos) then tries to get close and hug Lloyd, who gets flustered and Tiger Blades him away.
Zelos: Ouch!! You would actually use an arte on a friend??
But right after Lloyd uses his combat arte, the statue (spirit of plays) lights up a bit.
Someone: Huh, the spirit is reacting to the arte! So I guess if we keep using combat artes, they'll count towards the combat scene we need to do!
Alphin: Arte? Leave it to me!
*Proceeds to use a mystic arte on Zelos*
Zelos: Okay wait wait no more! I'm actually going to die if this continues on
Alphin: Hmm, okay. How about everyone uses their artes on me then? I can't feel pain anyway.
Shionne: Leave the healing to me!
Yuri, Luke, and Velvet proceed to use their mystic artes on Alphin one by one, and the statue lights up fully, thus qualifying for the play's combat scene.
Someone: Even if you can't feel pain, you can't take that much more damage (Shionne probably said this)
Sheena: Wait... I appeared in Tales of Symphonia right? So why didn't I get any screen time...
And next...
Super fast Tales of Abyss!
Luke plays as Luke, Sheena plays as Tear, Velvet plays as Natalia, Shionne plays as Myuu (who was vocally against it). I forgot who plays as Guy, I think Sorey
They banter a bit and then Luke did something wrong, and the entire party is demanding him to apologize. Shionne (Myuu) was also harshly demanding him to apologize.
Luke: I'm not used to Thing being so harsh with me
Then Raven's arte cut in appears on the main screen (the thumbnail for this vid)
Raven: Wind Cutter!!
And the wind cutter cuts off Luke's hair, making him the short hair version.
Luke: ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for what happened in Tales of Symphonia. I'm sorry for what happened in Tales of Abyss. I'm sorry for what happened in Tales of Vesperia. I'm sorry for the conflict between Renans and Dahnans...
Someone: You're going to apologize for all of the series? lol
Then the statue lights up
Someone: ... I guess that counts as the emotional scene then
Someone: So all we have to do is the cooking scene then
Yuri cooks up a peach pie (there was a recurring joke throughout about Veigue trying to sell peach pies) and Velvet cooks up a mabo curry within 1 second, which makes the statue light up, thus saving Yokohama Arena from collapse.
The end.

TL;DR: I am a GM looking for one more player to add to a Blades in the Dark campaign. Discord is required. Sessions are on Tuesdays at 12pm EST. I can answer any questions you may have. Newcomers welcome. This game is ongoing. There are two slots. Send me a chat on Reddit if interested. Please be 18+
Greetings. I'm 20 and have been on and off GMing since I was 13. This on and off nature of GMing changed over a year ago when I began running RPGs online. I have assembled a group of players whom I have run many campaigns with. We've run two campaigns with the game, Fate and one with the game, Spire and one using Pathfinder 2E. Recently, we have ended a D&D B/X campaign. Both me and my players really like D&D B/X, but we've been wanting a break from old school games, at least for a bit.
This brings us to the current campaign we're running, Blades in the Dark. You might have heard of Blades in the Dark, but if you haven't, let me tell you about it. You will be playing as a scoundrel, a thief in the city of Doskvol, an industrial dark fantasy setting inspired by Victorian England. Aesthetically, Blades in the Dark is very, very similar to the Dishonored series of video games, but it does have a more gothic, supernatural grimdark vibe which makes Doskvol feel wholly unique. After a near apocalyptic event, the realm of spirits and demons has merged with world of our own. To keep spirits and demons out of Doskvol, pylons constantly arc electricity around the city to keep any undead from getting in or out of the city. The pylons are fueled by the blood of Leviathans, demonic sea monsters. Only embers remain of the sun, making the world exist in seemingly eternal nighttime, which makes growing food very hard. In these dark and scarce times, your choice is to either accept your status quo or take what you believe is rightfully yours.
As I've said, you are a scoundrel. You belong to a gang. You will be taking on multiple scores, trying to both sustain yourself as well as strengthening your own gang. The city of Doskvol is a dense place, where tons of factions are within walking distance of each other. Once the game gets going, you will be gaining the favour of some factions and gaining the ire of others.
Blades in the Dark is a game system that one could categorize as an indie narrative based system, similar to games like FATE, PtbA and Ironsworn. I won't get into all of the mechanics here, instead, I will tell you what I believe the main design philosophy of Blades is, at least in my opinion. "Skip The Boring Parts". You'd think that a game that involves heists would mean lots of time planning heists at the table. That is not the case. Blades in the Dark has all sorts of mechanics that make it so once you decide to take on a score, we smash cut to the job starting. This design philosophy can be seen through other mechanics in the game.
I am inviting you to join a sort of session zero/session one this upcoming Tuesday, on June 4th at 12pm EST. The players will make their character sheets then, create their gang and if we have time, we can run a score. I will also use Tuesday's session to give a more detailed explanation of the game's systems to the players. You don't need to learn all the rules before the session, you aren't catching up to a group that has been playing this for a long time. We're all new to this system. Even if you are a newcomer to TTRPGs, as long as you're willing to learn, you are welcome. I will mention some things to temper your expectations.
I am hoping to run this campaign for 12-15 sessions. After the end of the campaign, we might want to start another Blades in the Dark campaign, continuing where the previous one left off (think of a new season of a tv show) or we might move on to another game system.
Don't come in with a strong idea of the character you want to create.
We are an already established group consisting of me and three players. I am looking to add only one new person to the group. How well I think you'd vibe with the group is a factor.
The campaign is being run on Foundry, using The Forge server hosting. You do need a computer power enough to run Foundry (most modern PCs would do the job). The group organizes and communicates over discord.
Please be 18+, not that we do anything NSFW, I would just feel more comfortable with everyone older than 18. Our games are on Tuesdays at 12pm EST.
If you are interested, send me a chat on Reddit where we can exchange Discord usernames. We can discuss things further on Discord, preferably over voice chat.

Hi I’m Li 14 (f) and my sister Dia is 17. It all started in December, my sister asked me and my mom if we could got to our schools rival basketball game, of course me being happy that my sister wanted to hang out with said yes. Little did I know that was a big mistake. During the game me and my sister got separated and she snuck off and left the building so I was alone with a lot of people that I didn’t know. I have extreme social anxiety and I have to calm myself down in big crowds. During that time my sister was hanging out with her foolish friends and got Sa’d. After that there was a shooting that we were caught in the middle of. Thankfully me and her got out because I observed the crowd and noticed that the police were not calm and were putting on vest. Fast forward to January my sister got raped. She snuck out again and I was the one that had to tell my mom. And my mom is really sensitive. But when I told her the only thing that she was talking about was different ways to beat Dia and the scary thing was that she would actually do it, si I begged her to be optimistic about why she might have snuck out. I told my mom to wait to call the police until 9 a.m. During that time I went to what I knew best which was going mute and not talking, crying, and cleaning. I didn’t have thoughts, ideas, it was like there was a black hole inside of me. When I felt like the time was right it told my mom to go outside, and there was a police officer driving past and my mom flagged him down, when the police officer was in the house, I heard crying but when I saw my mom it was her fake cry, not her real one, it made me feel disgusted, and like she only wanted the attention. There was only one person that I knew she could be at but we were on bad terms, and that was my dad. He was the first person that I called, after one ring he answered, and I asked where is she to him crying and sounding defeated, he told me to calm down then we need to talk and that she is okay and it would be best if we meet up. So we all meet up at my great aunts house. I saw my dad for the first time in over a year, and although it wasn’t on the best terms, I still wanted to run up to him and cry, but I didn’t because it wasn’t about me it was about Dia. She told me, my dad, my mom, and my great aunt that she was raped and threatened. My dad being the protective guy that he is said that we should go and talk to the police and got to the hospital to confirm that she was sa’d. We stayed in the hospital for about 10-12 hours taking shifts, because there could only be 2 people back there at a time. My mom and stepmom talked to each other for the first time, and I hung out with my dad and younger sister Ayah. The process took a long time, but it was confirmed that she was raped. After we left the hospital, we went back to our moms house and started packing to stay with our dad until everything was situated. When I got done putting the last suitcase in the trunk, my mom leaned down at the window at 11:50 p.m. and said “ I hope y’all are up and ready for school” after she said that I started crying, like what did she not get by her daughter was raped, it’s not something that goes away in a few hours. I lost so much respect for her after that. And for the next couple of months we were living with our dad full time until the case was figured out. During that time me and Dia would make jokes on our moms mental and physical abuse. One day our stepmom overheard me and asked what we were talking about, and if everything was okay at my moms house, and me and Dia saying yes, because she had normalized the abuse for years. But my stepmom told my dad and they had a talk on abuse and how it wasn’t normal. My dad and stepmom then contacted their lawyer and told him what happened. Then my sister Dia said that we should write letters on how the abuse was carried out, and why. And I agreed that it should be fine, but it wasn’t, during the time of her writing her letters, she would stay up trying to perfect them, she started sleeping in my room because she felt scared, and me being comforting, said yes, but that would be my biggest mistake inviting her in my personal space. One night she climbed up my stairs on my bunk bed and held my hands and stared into my eyes at like 3 in the morning and that scared the heck out of me. I’m not one to have any fears but whenever she came near me she scared me so much as if she was possessed and I can feel when something isn’t right but that’s were she got me. Every time me and her were alone she would say something that made no sense, and I felt like I was going crazy until she left to go to the bathroom and it was me, my stepmom and my dad, I had a panic attack and told them how she was acting, and at first they thought I was jealous, because she was getting all of the attention, but I don’t blame them for thinking that way. That night when they all went to sleep, Dia cried at my doorway where I couldn’t see her face, but there was light behind her, she said “I’m the sacrifice” and then left out of the room and went down to the second floor. I was so scared that night because I thought she was going to be harmed, or do the harming. It didn’t take me that long to fall asleep but I told me too long to wake up. All I could hear was my dad calling my name and I eventually got up. I unlocked my door, I walked out to my sisters outside my room. My little sister playing with cards, cards that I had never seen. And Dia looking menacingly in the corner of her room. My stepmom had jury duty that day and my dad was going to take her. As soon as they left my sister had two phones in her hand, and started talking about how we’re Dominican, mind you we are African American and Indigenous, and my little sister is mixed with African American and Haitian, so I was so confused and I looked at my phone for the time and Dia tried to take it say that the wasn’t real and that everything was fake the she started yelling. And attacked me, I was on the edge of my lower bunk, and my litter sister was right next to me. I put her in the corner of my room, to protect her because I thought I was going to have to fight Dia physically, which I’m 5”2, 115 pounds and I’m buff, and do weightlifting and know mixed martial arts, so I kinda of could hold my own, but she didn’t know her strength, she’s smaller than me, but it felt like I was trying to fight a leopard. But my dad ended up calling me and telling me to bring my little sister down to the car because they didn’t have a good feeling, and by the time he took her in the car Dia was acting as crazy as the joker. And apparently she called the police with my mom and made it seem like there was child abuse going on at my dads house but honestly it was the complete opposite, I’ve never felt a sense of normalcy in years. We went down to the first floor and the police were at the front door, they asked specifically for all the women in the house, because there was an incomplete call and they said it was a women’s voice. The only person that I thought of was my sister Dia because she was the only one with the house phones in her hands. And the police asked if everything was okay and she turned to my stepmom and said she needs to leave and said a lot of bad stuff, but in conclusion, she assaulted two police officers, recorded like she wasn’t acting completely insane, and she also lied and said that me and her were kidnapped and that she’s 18 and I’m 16, which I talked to the police separately and told them that she had been through a lot, and that we were not kidnapped and that we came here on our own terms, and that I’m 14 and she’s 16. The police were very nice and understanding. Because we are black in a mainly white neighborhood my dad begged them to please have mercy on her and I’ve never seen him cry like he did that day, it broke me mentally and cause my trust issues to go up. That day was long a traumatizing because I get really scared when people are yelling at me are shouting. My stepmom and dad fought so hard for my sister and me and now they have major trust issues with everyone, I feel really bad for them because Dia has put our younger sister on the line of possibly being adopted because of her false lies, she also lied and said that I was doing heavy drugs and I had to take a drug test in front on my dad and stepmom which was humiliating and I degraded my name and I felt like I didn’t have purpose on this earth because of my sister Dia. We had court and the judge said that I had to go back with my mom, hi to therapy, and that I wouldn’t be able to see my dad until the next weekend, I took a walk during the court case and I was apparently wanted by 50 different sheriffs, they found me and I was really confused, I gave my dad and stepmom one last hug that day and cried profusely, I saw about three other sheriffs crying as well. My mom made two walk me to her car, and made it seem like I was a prisoner just missing the chains and jumpsuit. I ended up talking to one of the sheriffs and he gave me some good advice to keep my head up and keep going, so that’s what I did and I talked to him about possibly getting myself emancipated, which I don’t really want. I went in the car with my sister and she was yelling a crying the entire time I was in the car and scared the absolute crap out of me. That next Friday I packed my clothes and stuff that I wanted to go to my dad’s house, and my sister started coming at me with words and I tried to take my water bottle back from her and she kicked me in my stomach and told me to start crying but I didn’t and I pushed her back off of me, I’m self defense and I got so mad at the fact that I couldn’t really fight her, so I let out every word that would hurt someone and I never cussed that much in my life but I didn’t notice how much I was cussing until I heard my Nana at the bottom of the stairs, my sister went downstairs and laughed at me, and then she went into the living room where I sleep every night and she took my Beats, phone charger, and epi pen and hid them throughout the house. She’s had so many episodes that I feel like I’m going crazy, I have multiple videos of her episodes out of self defense. My mom told me that I couldn’t text or call my dad, so I snuck and called him to inform him of what has been happening, I believe that it’s child endangerment if my mom leaves me alone with my sister. She honestly does stuff or says stuff when my mom leaves me alone with her. She was jealous of me and tried to attack me, she even threw a full candle at my head because she thought I was the cause of all of the false and childish decisions she made. She still has episodes a lot, and I want to live with my dad. She put such a negative effect on their lives, and now we all have to go to court because of her lies. She even knows who raped her and she protects them with her whole life and lies for them, and she lied about my dad trying to kidnap us, she ruined her relationship with a lot of people and all for what? Just to fit in, it’s really sad how much people change their lives for other peoples judgment. Today is my birthday and I’m at my dads house. I really don’t want to go over to my mom’s house. I really need advice. I just want a better and more peaceful life.

Kinkajou was flying in the crisp, chilly morning winds as she flew through the Rocky, and jagged cliffs that made up the Jade Mountain Range. Kinkajou was flying with nine other dragonets, four RainWings and five nightwings. They had been flying for a couple of hours, so they were exhausted. 

Kinkajou spotted a familiar Nightwing handing out scrolls to students. The Nightwing looked at Kinkajou, before her eyes narrowed at her. 

My gender dysphoria started when puberty did, and it was intense.
I only ever had one real bra which I refused to wear. Getting fitted for it by an employee in a clothing store was fucking traumatizing. I just wore tight sports bras instead to makeshift bind for a few years until I came out as ftm at 14 and got real binders instead. Breast development was so psychologically distressing I couldn't handle it. When I wasn't binding I couldn't be around anyone, I couldn't leave my room. Since I starting binding, up until I got top surgery, no one had ever seen me while I wasn't binding. I only took it off to sleep and shower, but sometimes dysphoria was so intense I wouldn't even take it off for either of those. Eventually I moved on to layering 2 binders on top of each other because I didn't feel flat enough, and I would wear them all day everyday with no breaks. I'm extremely lucky I don't have any significant lasting rib or lung damage from this.
I used to try to make my voice deeper and some days just wouldn't talk because of voice dysphoria. Beforehand I was happy with and proud of my voice because I was a good singer and had great control over it. I used to be a soprano in my school's choir. I completely lost control over my voice and lost my high range on testosterone. I rarely sing anymore.
I used to roll up a sock and put it in my underwear to look like a bulge until I bought a packer and I used that instead. I feel like with time I just did this out of habit and my own saftey to reduce the likelyhood of being clocked. I was doing plenty of research on phalloplasty but I think it was really just something I was trying to convince myself I wanted because that's what trans men are supposed to want. I genuinely wanted top surgery, but I don't think I ever really wanted phallo. Some part of my convinced myself I did, but I think I knew I was never really going to get it, it never seemed worth it. I never really had much of an issue with my genitals unless it came to periods or the idea of penetrative sex. It makes sense I was kind of repulsed by that though because I was only young, but even now I'm just not all that interested in sex. (I don't have any sexual trauma by the way. Just mentioning that because people have tried to attribute my lack of sexual interest to trauma but that's clearly not the case.) Periods were really distressing because I wasn't really prepared for them at all and after I had come out as trans they felt very humiliating and invalidating. It also just felt extremely unfair to me that I have to go through this pain and discomfort because of the parts I was born with. Whenever I had a period (which was rare, I only had about 5 or 6 of them in my life, they were extremely irregular), I would just wrap myself in blankets and cry on my bedroom floor. I tried progesterone only birth control to stop them, (because I completely refused to touch the birth control pills that included estrogen, the idea disgusted me), and it made me bleed for 17 days straight which was horrifying so I never took them again.
I wore baggy hoodies and never tight clothes, hunched my back, or anything else I could do to hide my curves.
Once I had started questioning my gender at 13 but I wasn't out as ftm yet, I was very uncomfortable with being called she or a girl and liked it when anyone would mistake me for a boy. In childhood though I didn't care.
I was such a happy bubbly kid who was introverted but still not afraid to put myself out there and be myself. But when puberty began I became such a depressed, lonely, reserved person. I became so self conscious and anxious, I would do everything I could to fly under the radar and prevent drawing attention to myself. I became less expressive, less open, less honest with people. I didn't take care of myself either, isolated myself, neglected hygiene, excercise, health in general. I just had antidepressants thrown at the problem. I don't blame my psychiatrists or psychologist though, they tried, they offered supports and possible ways to better my mental health but I didn't take them because they were difficult lifestyle changes and stuff I didn't have faith in like meditation. I just wanted an easy quick fix to my problems without putting the work in to actually fix them. Antidepressants didn't make me feel normal again, they just stopped the constant sadness by supressing all of my emotions and leaving me feeling very little to nothing most of the time.
I feel like hormones were another easy quick fix to a deeper routed problem. But the easy solution never works to fix the problem long term. I saw testosterone as a miracle cure. It helped in some ways, didn't in others. Now I'm just unhappy with the changes. Atrophy, hair loss, it's taken the life from my eyes. I just look in the mirror now and I look so aged and tired at just 20 years old. I used to be excited for the changes testosterone would bring. Maybe I thought the grass would be greener on the other side, that I would be happier and have no issues anymore. Now I've got opposite problems, the facial hair, masculinised features, flat chest, rough skin, I began to grow more and more uncomfortable with them at about the 3 year mark on testosterone and that discomfort has only grow with time. (I'm nearly 4 years on T now). Sometimes it makes me think I've come this far so there's no point in trying to go back at this point. Knowing that if I keep going as it is it is easy, though it may be miserable, but going back is hard, and it's painful to acknowlege that if I am in fact a woman I've made life so much harder for myself by doing all this in the first place. Knowing I will likely be perceived as a trans woman and experience more transphobia than I ever have as a trans man is so terrifying and disheartning.
It feels like ignoring and bottling up my feelings and continuing to live as a man is the easy way, but admitting to myself I am a woman and destransitioning is the hard and painful way.
And I have always been inclined to choose the easy way so this has really challenged my usual approach to making any decision in life.
I stopped testosterone for about 2 months back in March, but then started again in late May and I've been on it since. I honestly felt better off it. Less anxious, more light. The only thing that's been holding me back from stopping is the risk of losing access to it compleltely and then changing my mind. If I tell my doctor I want to stop T I won't be able to start it again for over 7 years because of the long waiting lists with the way the healthcare system works in my country. That's why I didn't tell her when I stopped the first time, and it's the reason I started again. I started T again in late May because my doctor booked a blood test for me in June to check my hormone levels and I knew I would need to start again now so my testosterone levels would look normal again by then. It's a complicated situation and I don't really know what to do. If there were informed consent clinics in my country I would stop testosterone right now with the security of knowing I can start again whenever I want if I change my mind. But unfortunately it doesn't work like that here.

My gender dysphoria started when puberty did, and it was intense.
I only ever had one real bra which I refused to wear. Getting fitted for it by an employee in a clothing store was fucking traumatizing. I just wore tight sports bras instead to makeshift bind for a few years until I came out as ftm at 14 and got real binders instead. Breast development was so psychologically distressing I couldn't handle it. When I wasn't binding I couldn't be around anyone, I couldn't leave my room. Since I starting binding, up until I got top surgery, no one had ever seen me while I wasn't binding. I only took it off to sleep and shower, but sometimes dysphoria was so intense I wouldn't even take it off for either of those. Eventually I moved on to layering 2 binders on top of each other because I didn't feel flat enough, and I would wear them all day everyday with no breaks. I'm extremely lucky I don't have any significant lasting rib or lung damage from this.
I used to try to make my voice deeper and some days just wouldn't talk because of voice dysphoria. Beforehand I was happy with and proud of my voice because I was a good singer and had great control over it. I used to be a soprano in my school's choir. I completely lost control over my voice and lost my high range on testosterone. I rarely sing anymore.
I used to roll up a sock and put it in my underwear to look like a bulge until I bought a packer and I used that instead. I feel like with time I just did this out of habit and my own saftey to reduce the likelyhood of being clocked. I was doing plenty of research on phalloplasty but I think it was really just something I was trying to convince myself I wanted because that's what trans men are supposed to want. I genuinely wanted top surgery, but I don't think I ever really wanted phallo. Some part of my convinced myself I did, but I think I knew I was never really going to get it, it never seemed worth it. I never really had much of an issue with my genitals unless it came to periods or the idea of penetrative sex. It makes sense I was kind of repulsed by that though because I was only young, but even now I'm just not all that interested in sex. (I don't have any sexual trauma by the way. Just mentioning that because people have tried to attribute my lack of sexual interest to trauma but that's clearly not the case.) Periods were really distressing because I wasn't really prepared for them at all and after I had come out as trans they felt very humiliating and invalidating. It also just felt extremely unfair to me that I have to go through this pain and discomfort because of the parts I was born with. Whenever I had a period (which was rare, I only had about 5 or 6 of them in my life, they were extremely irregular), I would just wrap myself in blankets and cry on my bedroom floor. I tried progesterone only birth control to stop them, (because I completely refused to touch the birth control pills that included estrogen, the idea disgusted me), and it made me bleed for 17 days straight which was horrifying so I never took them again.
I wore baggy hoodies and never tight clothes, hunched my back, or anything else I could do to hide my curves.
Once I had started questioning my gender at 13 but I wasn't out as ftm yet, I was very uncomfortable with being called she or a girl and liked it when anyone would mistake me for a boy. In childhood though I didn't care.
I was such a happy bubbly kid who was introverted but still not afraid to put myself out there and be myself. But when puberty began I became such a depressed, lonely, reserved person. I became so self conscious and anxious, I would do everything I could to fly under the radar and prevent drawing attention to myself. I became less expressive, less open, less honest with people. I didn't take care of myself either, isolated myself, neglected hygiene, excercise, health in general. I just had antidepressants thrown at the problem. I don't blame my psychiatrists or psychologist though, they tried, they offered supports and possible ways to better my mental health but I didn't take them because they were difficult lifestyle changes and stuff I didn't have faith in like meditation. I just wanted an easy quick fix to my problems without putting the work in to actually fix them. Antidepressants didn't make me feel normal again, they just stopped the constant sadness by supressing all of my emotions and leaving me feeling very little to nothing most of the time.
I feel like hormones were another easy quick fix to a deeper routed problem. But the easy solution never works to fix the problem long term. I saw testosterone as a miracle cure. It helped in some ways, didn't in others. Now I'm just unhappy with the changes. Atrophy, hair loss, it's taken the life from my eyes. I just look in the mirror now and I look so aged and tired at just 20 years old. I used to be excited for the changes testosterone would bring. Maybe I thought the grass would be greener on the other side, that I would be happier and have no issues anymore. Now I've got opposite problems, the facial hair, masculinised features, flat chest, rough skin, I began to grow more and more uncomfortable with them at about the 3 year mark on testosterone and that discomfort has only grow with time. (I'm nearly 4 years on T now). Sometimes it makes me think I've come this far so there's no point in trying to go back at this point. Knowing that if I keep going as it is it is easy, though it may be miserable, but going back is hard, and it's painful to acknowlege that if I am in fact a woman I've made life so much harder for myself by doing all this in the first place. Knowing I will likely be perceived as a trans woman and experience more transphobia than I ever have as a trans man is so terrifying and disheartning.
It feels like ignoring and bottling up my feelings and continuing to live as a man is the easy way, but admitting to myself I am a woman and destransitioning is the hard and painful way.
And I have always been inclined to choose the easy way so this has really challenged my usual approach to making any decision in life.
I stopped testosterone for about 2 months back in March, but then started again in late May and I've been on it since. I honestly felt better off it. Less anxious, more light. The only thing that's been holding me back from stopping is the risk of losing access to it compleltely and then changing my mind. If I tell my doctor I want to stop T I won't be able to start it again for over 7 years because of the long waiting lists with the way the healthcare system works in my country. That's why I didn't tell her when I stopped the first time, and it's the reason I started again. I started T again in late May because my doctor booked a blood test for me in June to check my hormone levels and I knew I would need to start again now so my testosterone levels would look normal again by then. It's a complicated situation and I don't really know what to do. If there were informed consent clinics in my country I would stop testosterone right now with the security of knowing I can start again whenever I want if I change my mind. But unfortunately it doesn't work like that here.

My next chapter. I made this one a little "spicy", but the following chapters will probably get back to your regularly scheduled simping. Aw, poor Davey, lol
I made my way up their steps and into Ashley’s bedroom. It was far from my 1st time here at this point. I’d often be called over to “hang out”. At the best of times, this involved me down on my knees, rubbing Ashley’s tired feet or painting her toenails as she controlled the conversation. Mostly just her venting about her day, sometimes about some recent party she went to that I was never invited to. Or just tidying up as she relaxed on her large bed and played with her phone or watched tv. I loved any opportunity to be around Ashley. Plus her room had an electric energy to me. I could take a deep breath and smell her very essence through the air. Not to mention the perks of being her little “simp”. Last time I was over I found a loose stay hair on her pillow as I was fluffing it up after making her bed. I was able to sneak that little strand of hair in my pocket and take it home. OMG, I lasted for weeks with that being my main source of masterbation material!!
Tonight I was actually hoping for a quick cleanup. Between this, helping Mrs. Smith and Ashley’s homework, time always seems to get away from me and I spend the next day dragging myself like a zombie. As soon as I walked in her room, I knew I would be a while. Ashley has many great qualities; tidiness isn’t one of them! She had old plates of food sitting on her desk. Chocolate wrappers just tossed on hr floor. Her clothes! She had a mix of worn and dirty clothes thrown about and hanging off of every chair, banister, and littering the ground. I’d have to inspect each item to confirm if they were clean or dirty before finding the appropriate place for them. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hamper with bra dangling out. It must have been worn. And I could touch it. Maybe even get a chance to smell it! I felt myself get hot and got those same butterflies in my tummy.
"There you are. What took so long?" Ashley had removed her makeup and decided to make herself more comfortable. She changed out of her trendy day clothes which still followed all school guidelines, which included form-fitting jeans and a slight midriff-baring top, that had a swooping neckline to show off her chest proudly, though they needed no help showing off. Her body often even had some teachers drooling. Those sexy clothes were gone now that it was just us. Now she wore her grey sweatpants, her socks and an old cami top. I know the look wasn't "sexy" but knowing she had removed her bra and only a thin piece of fabric separated us was almost too much to think about. Butterflies in my tummy again.
"Oh, i'm so sorry, Ashley! Your Mom just a-asked me to help with some, um, washing up, in the laundry room after."
"See! Her and my Dad complain about me not doing my own chores, but then she goes and has you scrubbing dirty underwear like some 1950's bimbo housewife! It's because she doesn't wanna do that gross boring shit either! And can you believe my Dad!? Building character!? Like, really? And another thing- Oh, Davey, didn't you hear? My mom gave the okay. You can start on my room.” She gave me an expectant look and I took the hint and grabbed my cleaning spray and rubber gloves.
"Here, start here-“ She remained standing but pointed at a stain with her socked foot. "I spilled some soda I guess and it's like, sticky or something."
"Y-Yes Ashley, right away!"
And I got started cleaning the disaster of a room as Ashley finished venting and then relaxed at her desk. "I'll help in a sec. Just want to check insta 1st..."
Off I went scrubbing and dusting and tidying and primping and promping the teenage girl's room while I was for the most part ignored. I’ll save the boring details of scrubbing and tidying up a teenage girl’s bedroom. About and hour or so later, my fingers ached and my back was starting to hurt from being bent over so much.
"Okay, I think I pretty much got everything in a place your parents would approve, um, Ashley?"
She was now relaxing on her bed, reclined against the pillows. She was still over the sheets with her laptop on her stomach. I remember thinking how it must be hard to see the screen over her rising chest.
"What's that?" She looked up from her laptop for the 1st time in maybe an hour. "Oh sorry, I was messaging with Ryan. I must have got distracted".
Ugh, Ryan. Classic jock jerk! And of course her on again off again boyfriend. Honestly these days he mostly just treated her as friends with benefits. I have no idea why she puts up with him! He's crude, rude and just flat out doesn't treat her like the princess she is!! I have had her cry on my shoulder more times than I can count from this brute, but then the next weekend she is behind the bleachers sucking his cock!! Yuck, hard to imagine my sweet, confident princess getting on her knees for some brute! It's only a matter of time before she realizes she actually prefers sweet and caring types, and then maybe she even finds them sexy, and would even get down on her knees for someone like, like m-"
"Davey! This room looks great. What would you say to a little reward?"
Remember when I said the lines were blurred in the relationship. This is one of those blurred lines.
"A, r-r-rreward? You mean like-"
"OMG, look at your face. I really am too good to you, aren't I. God it's been what, a couple weeks since I let you eat me out, huh?"
"Uh, yeah, um, uh, yes, it-it's been um, yea, uh 3 m-m-months now, um, uh, A-Ash-l-ley..."
"Wowwwww, aw, that's a long time for you. Yea, I was gonna hop in a quick shower before bed, it was a long day. But then I started talking to Ryan and well, now I'm in the mood. Plus, you really, really deserve it. Just look at this place." she gestured to her now sparkling room. "You have been SO sweet lately. Anyway, nothing crazy. Just kinda want to grind one out to help me sleep, you know?"
"Oh, uh, um, y-y-yes, th-thank you-u, I- I, uh, um yes, I unders-s-stand Ashley".
"Good boyyyy. K, in you go". She got under the covers and held the blanket up for me to crawl in. She pulled her sweatpants down, and then threw her underwear off the side of the bed. Under the dark heat of the covers, all I could see are the most beautiful golden tan and toned legs rising out of her ankle socks, and climbing until they met the most perfect, tight and perfectly trimmed pussy. When I got close I could smell her excitement and I could see a slight slickness by her folds. She must have been getting wet while talking to Ryan, ugh, yuck!
"Here!" she said as she ripped the covers off me temporarily blinded by the light. "Open!"
Instinctively my body naturally obeys any command from her lips, and I opened my mouth wide. A second later I saw her reach for a tube and she squirted it in my open mouth.
"It's lube. Swish it around to warm it up for me. Plus it’ll get your tongue all extra slippery.” I obediently opened my mouth wider and stuck out my tongue as she took one hand and grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks slightly to push open and out my lips into a dramatic ‘O’ shape with my tongue hanging out. I tried not to imagne what I must look like. With her other hand she squeezed the bottle with an undignified glorrp right into my mouth. I gently swished the off-tasting, gloopy mess around my mouth as Ashley instructed. "Mmmmmmmm, that's hot. That's gonna feel so good. K, ready?"
I tried to mumble something back, but warmed lube only crept out the side of my mouth. Luckily I think it was rhetorical as she threw the blanket down on top of me as I began gently licking. Just like that I was in heaven. She tasted of natural feminine juices with a slight hint of the day’s perspiration. My poor Ashley must have really had a long day! Her moans and grinding of her hips urging me on, as well as her little comments of direction here and there.
"Mmmmmmmm, slower. Flick it. Higher. Oh yes, Ryan. Mmmmmmm, fuck. Oh Ryan, Oh Ryannn, mmmmmm”
Ugh, really, him?
It was only a few minutes before her 1st orgasm. I could feel her thighs gently tighten with a delicate moan. I guess she changed her mind about a quick cum, as when I went to get up for air after her 1st release, her hand roughly grabbed my hair by the scalp and re-positioned my face so it was firmly mashed against her pelvis.
My aching erection was painfully pushing against my bikini bottoms and pants. I could feel my poor little penis throb and starting to leak. It was so hot seeing her as she took out her vibrator and pleasured herself as I licked wherever there was space around her movements. Desperate to please her and be useful. This was my chance to impress her, I thought as I licked so hard it ached. It was so cute seeing her comments getting more intense as she got more lost in her own pleasure.
"Fuck yes. Lick me, slut! Uuungh, deeper, I SAID LICK DEEPER! Oh fuck, yes, bitch, just like that. Fucking lick right there. Now lower, LOWER, SLUT”
Sure, I've heard the names the other kids call me at school. Simp, loser, cuck, her bitch. But who else but me gets to see her in these most intimate of moments when she really loses herself.
After another 10 min her thighs clamped down on my head. I could no longer hear anything, I could barely breathe and was trapped in a conjuncture of her sweaty flesh, lube and natural juices. Just as I was preparing to tap out, or succumb to her body, she relaxed. I heard the sound of her vibrator switch off.
Next thing I knew, the sheets were ripped off and I felt the flat bottom of her somewhat sweaty foot on my forehead, pushing me away as I desperately tried to get 1 more glimpse of her most intimate area.
“Mmmm, that was nice.” Ashley rolled off the bed. Still in a daze, I had the most amazing view of her golden, toned ass cheeks. “Well I’m off to shower and then I need some sleep. I’m beat. Did you enjoy your little treat, Davey? You owe me one now!” she said with a wink. "No problem having my history homework done by tomorrow, ya?"
I went to confirm I’d stay up late but my sore and achey tongue just flopped out of my mouth with a “Yeth Asthley. Thatth no pwobrum".
Ashley giggled as she walked out of the room. I watched her butt cheeks bounce as she called over her shoulder “rinse your mouth after you finish whatever my mom needed. That lube stuff might be toxic or something. Can’t have anything happen to my little puppy. But it feels great! I’d get used to that lube taste."
My heart swooned as I drifted downstairs before I continued my night of drudgery. But nothing else mattered. Ashley was happy with me. And she must be satisfied with my oral servitude! She wants to keep it a regular thing!!! She must have really loved it. You know what they say, 1st comes love, then comes marriage!!

The second half of a long chapter.
“Oh, professor page,” I heard Anna yell from the living room, “You better get your ass out here quick.”
I quickly rinsed off my hands scurried into the living room, greeted by the two couples sprawled out on the sectional couch in their swimwear, Anna and Kelly in string bikinis and Archer and Paul in speedos. My cock was never limp that day, but there were moments – typically, those of the most intense humiliation – when it was harder than others. Seeing the four fit young bodies in all (or at least, most of) their glory was one of them. And while my gaze naturally was first drawn to Anna’s toned, long legs and taut midriff, followed by Kelly shorter, but still attractive legs and pretty toes, I would be lying if I didn’t admit to admiration of the slender, muscular swimmer bodies of the two young men as well.
My eyes also drifted over Paul’s bare feet. It was the first time I had seen bare the feet I had kissed in the bar through his sneakers or in the apartment through his thick wool socks. I was curious, naturally, but didn’t want to be too obvious, so quickly averted my glance before getting a good look. I need not have worried, however, as I would be spending a great deal of time up close and personal with his bare feet (and Anna’s) in the months that followed, starting a few minutes later. Paul did not have the same obsession with having his feet worshipped as Luke did, but there is no question that he greatly enjoyed the power trip of having an older authority figure quite literally at his feet.
I must also confess that in addition to dwelling as long as I dared on the breasts of Anna (like Brooke’s, ample but not overly large) and Kelly (slightly larger and, to my mind, less proportional to her shorter frame), my eyes also flittered over the speedo-clad crotches of Paul and Archer. Speedos leave so little to the imagination. While I was mortified when forced to wear a speedo, my inadequacy on full display, these two young athletes were completely at ease. Their muscular, chiseled bodies were one explanation for that; the size of their bulges was another.
“Perhaps the professor page can stop ogling our bodies long enough to get us all another round of drinks,” said Anna.
Kelly said, “I think he’s staring more at the boys’ bodies than he is at ours, Anna. I’m jealous.”
“Most cucks are closet fags, so that’s no surprise,” said Paul.
I wanted to object that I wasn’t gay, closet or otherwise. I wanted to say, “What about you, someone who enjoys humiliating other males, forcing them to dress in feminine clothing, spanking their bare bottoms with your bare hands, perhaps other, more intimate things….What does all of that make you?” But I dared not I was say anything of the kind. Instead I simply confirmed their drink orders and hurried off to make them, checking on my stroganoff. And being honest with myself, while I knew beyond a doubt that I was not homosexual, I did have to admit that I was not immune to the physical attractions of dominant, young alpha males. Did I have this attraction prior to the events of the last seven months when Luke came onto the scene like a cyclone? Probably on some level, yes, but it had been latent. No longer.
When I returned to the living room with a serving tray holding their four cocktails, trying hard not to spill any of them, Paul said, “We know our page boy knows how to clean shoes, but what about other personal duties? Who besides me would like a foot massage?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea, dude. Count me in,” said Archer.
“You two boys go ahead. If he does a good job, Kelly and I may have him massage our feet as well,” said Anna.
“Start with Archer. On your knees, of course, page,” said Paul.
“Yes sir,” I said, kneeling before Archer, and beginning to work on his feet with warmup twists and arch rubs. His feet were somewhat calloused, but well formed.
“Ah, that feels good. He’s actually not too bad at this,” Archer said.
Pointing at my crotch, Kelly said, “Look, his little cock is stiff again. Are you excited to massage my boyfriend’s feet, professor?” As she spoke, she pressed her toes lightly against my cock through my tights. It surprised me that it was Kelly, rather than Anna (or even Paul), to first touch my liberated cock.
“No, Princess Kelly.”
“No? But your little stiffie says otherwise. Are you not being honest with us, professor?” She pressed a little harder with her foot, smiling wickedly.
In truth, the entire situation was incredibly arousing and, therefore, incredibly humiliating. Which made it still more arousing. It was a viscous cycle, one which I had been getting increasingly used to with Luke and Brooke. But the dynamics with my students and Archer were different, and, if anything, more intense. Was it the greater age disparity, the bigger inversion of authority, the fact that there was an element of coercion involved? All of the above? Brooke would tell me that I think about these things too much. She would counsel me to go with flow, enjoy the game, embrace the sheer eroticism of it all. I tried valiantly to do just that. Can one be valiant in accepting servitude and abuse?, I wondered (see how I over analyze everything?!)
Lancelot would no doubt have answered my question in the affirmative. Yet, his servitude was solely to Guinevere, and the abuse and humiliations he suffered were solely to satisfy her commands, her whims. Whereas Brooke was not even aware of my servitude to my students. Still, I could tell myself – with some degree of honesty – that the indignities I was suffering at their hands were because of my devotion to Brooke. Because I was in their power as a direct consequence of my obedience to Luke, and I was obedient to Luke for Brooke and Brooke alone. The frail heartbeat of chivalry was still detectable (to me, at least). Perhaps the time had come to tell Brooke of my predicament with Paul and Anna? But there was something so shameful about it. Would it diminish me in Brooke’s eyes in some different, profound and irrevocable way? Or would she hug me, perhaps even thank me for my sacrifice, and tell me everything will be okay?
These were the myriad thoughts that ran through my head as I also contemplated my response to Kelly’s fraught question. “No, princess, I mean, it’s all of your feet…,” I answered,lamely.
She snickered. “Well, you are the Liitle Foot Page, so I guess it makes sense that you’re turned on by feet.”
“Pretty much all submissive guys are turned on by feet. Issac is insane for my feet,” said Anna. You will recall that Issac was the young male slave in Paul’s and Anna’s stable.
“Not just submissive men. Cindy loves worshiping your feet too, babe,” Paul said to Anna. If you recall, Cindy (who, like Issac, I had not yet met at that point) was another member of Paul’s and Anna’s stable of slaves, a fellow student at the college whose intense crush on Paul was not reciprocated. Instead, he put her squarely into “ the friendzone,” eventually introducing her to Anna. Cindy was now a submissive servant to both of them, grateful to be part of Paul’s life under any circumstances.
Anna said to Kelly, “I don’t know about you, but I love having my feet pampered and having my toes sucked, and love the sight of submissive creatures groveling at my feet. At the same time, I couldn’t imagine in a million fucking years being the one doing the sucking or groveling. I have no desire to be that close to anyone’s feet.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I wouldn’t even want to kiss Archer if he sucked my toes. Ew, gross,” said Kelly, with a little shudder.
Archer interjected, “Yo’ve got nothing to worry about there, darling. You have pretty feet, but I have zero desire to kiss or lick them.”
“Or course you don’t, you’re not a perv, like the good professor here. Professor pervert, kiss the bottom of the foot you’re massaging. You don’t mind having your feet kissed, do you sweetheart?” Kelly asked Archer.
“No, I have no problem being worshipped. And I’m secure enough in my masculinity that I don’t care if it’s a submissive cuck like this loser doing the worshiping.”
“That’s what I love about you, sweetheart. You’re masculine, dominant AND open minded. That’s like icing on a yummy cake.,” Kelly said, as she started to kiss Archer passionately. “Professor, keep kissing the bottoms of my man’s feet while we make out.”
I kissed the balls of Archer’s feet, trying to avoid the callouses. I wondered: aren’t swimmers more prone to plantar warts, walking around all those bacteria-riddled pools and locker rooms in their bare feet? I knew plantar warts are highly contagious. Could I get warts on my lips or in my mouth? I made a mental note to research this on-line later. From extensive experience with Brooke and Luke, I was well aware of the aphrodisiac effect my submission could have on a couple dominating me. The exact reasons for this still remain something of a mystery to me. Just like you have to be a masochist to understand certain things, I guess you have to be a dominant or a sadist to understand others.
As if reading my thoughts, Anna said, “I think submissives’ brains must be wired differently. They have to be for them to enjoy feet so much. I mean, sometimes after we work out at the gym, Paul and I will rest our feet right on Cindy’s face. Can you imagine? Our sweaty, wet socks covering her nose and mouth. You’d think she’d have some self-respect and tell us to go to hell. Or, at a minimum, that she’d complain about the smell. Not that my feet smell, of course, but Paul’s smell something awful after he’s been working out,” she smiled at him.
“Yeah, right, babe,” Paul replied. He then explained to Kelly and Archer, “Don’t believe anything she says about her feet not smelling. The smell of her foot sweat is overpowering.”
“Bullshit,” Anna said, smiling and hitting him on the shoulder. “But, like I was saying, far from protesting, Cindy actually inhales the smell of our sweat socks and our sweaty feet. She almost looks as if she’s in ecstasy, like she’s smelling perfume or fresh flowers or something. And she even looks happy when she’s licking the toe jam and lint from between my toes. It’s disgusting. But it’s pretty funny watching her. And I like the sensation of her tongue on my toes.”
“It’s what I’ve been telling you for awhile now, babe. Submissives are intellectually inferior. They’re sexual deviants. By humiliating and abusing them, we’re giving them what they want, what they need, in fact. So there’s no reason for us to feel bad when we mistreat them. We’re actually doing them a favor,” said Paul.
Paul was a Psychology major and fancied himself some sort of authority on this subject apparently, although it was clear to me that he was greatly oversimplifying what were, in reality, very complicated human relationship dynamics. He also had a facile understanding of human intelligence. Under different circumstances, I might have tried to engage him in a debate. But to have done so at that moment would have been the height of folly, so I kept my mouth shut and my fingers busy.
After spending 15 minutes on Archer’s feet, I massaged the feet of my three students for the same amount of time (timed by Paul). Paul and Anna kissed each other while I worked on Anna’s feet, much as Archer and Kelly had done. Each insisted I respectfully kiss the bottoms of their feet after finishing the massage. Paul was last. While I massaged his feet, Anna prodded my balls with her high heel shoe, laughing as my cock twitched through my tights. Having been denied release for so long, my biggest fear was that all of the stimuli – the scantily-clad, young bodies, the humiliating dissection of my fetishes, the pressure of Anna’s foot (which she occasionally brushed against my the underside of my shaft) – would cause me to ejaculate. The thought of that was beyond mortifying, so I did everything I could possibly do to distract myself mentally.
Their ongoing conversation about feet did not make my task an easy one.
“Rollins, you’re actually pretty good at this. In a sensible world, you would be spending your time in your classes massaging all of your students’ feet rather than lecturing to them. It’s a better use of your talents.” There did seem to be a general consensus that I have a knack (was Paul’s term, “talent,” too strong a word) for giving foot massages. I guess there’s at least one thing I can do well with my hands after all, I thought to myself.
“Now, Paul. Don’t be cruel. I’ve had some pretty good courses with Professor Foot Page. I don’t see any reason why he couldn’t lecture while he massages everyone’s feet.” Kelly giggled.
Anna snickered. “Can you picture it? I can. He would be dressed just as he is now, crawling from student to student.”
“Yes, and then he could massage the feet of all of the other faculty members of the English department,” said Kelly, giggling.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t already massaging Neil Lawson’s feet. Lawson already has him fetching his coffee. Or he did today, at least. There’s definitely something going on there,” said Paul.
I couldn’t decide whether to be relieved Paul didn’t know any specifics or to be distressed that he was so suspicious – and that his instincts were correct. I remained silent.
Paul continued, “He obviously has a big foot fetish, like most submissives. Rollins, you ought to consider having a whole chapter dedicated to foot worship in that book you’re working on. You’ll be a real authority on the subject before we’re finished with you.”
Putting aside the implicit threat in his last remark, Paul actually might be on to something, I thought. I had been struggling with the organization of my book, which had really evolved quite a bit over the last six months. While I still aimed to show how medieval courtly poetry was what started the rich history of male masochism in western literature, I was increasingly focusing on contemporary BDSM cuckold fiction and what had clearly been an explosion in interest in that lifestyle in recent years, globally.
Miraculously, I was able to get through the massages and constant teasing without ejaculating. About halfway into my 5-hour stay at the condo, I served the four of them dinner, trying to remember to curtsy at all the required moments. They had changed back into the clothes they were wearing before their swim, Anna and Kelly in short skirts, stockings and heels and Paul and Archer in jeans and polo shirts. Anna kept her little notepad next to her plate on the table, and occasionally wrote in it, causing me further anxiety. When not going back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, I was expected to stand by the table at attention – to refill glasses of the wine I had purchased, fold the napkins of anyone who got up from the table, or do anything else ordered of me. My cock tented out my tights the entire time, of course. My self consciousness about this at least had the advantage of taking my mind off my hunger somewhat, as I enviously watched the four of them eat the meal I had prepared (I sampled the stroganoff as I was cooking it, and thought it came out quite well).
Anna invited everyone to critique the meal afterwards, and it was generally agreed upon that the beef and mushroom sauce was delicious, but that the pasta was overcooked. The salad and dressing was a success, but the Italian green beans less so. I was grateful that Anna had not required me to also prepare dessert.
“Well, Professor maid, it seems that both punishments and a reward are in order for your uneven meal and service. You also earned demerits for failure to curtsy on at least four occasions – I’m sure that I missed others – and continued deficiencies in your technique. Also for how you walked in heels earlier. The mushy pasta and beans were also unacceptable. On the other hand, the stroganoff itself was excellent, as was the salad and dressing. The boys will administer your punishment, and Kelly and I will grant you your reward.”
I replied, with a curtsy, “Yes, princess. Thank you, princess.” The truth of the matter is I didn’t know which of the two caused me greater dread: the punishment or the reward.
“Which should we give him first?”, asked Kelly.
Paul said, “Definitely the punishment first. We need to leave enough time for the redness of his ass to fade in case Luke or his wife want to punish him as well when he gets home.”
“And a submissive freak like him will probably enjoy his reward more with a sore ass. I’ve calculated that he’s owed 120 spanks. 100 from today, and the 20 we didn’t give him on Tuesday that he was due. Which one oy you strapping young men will do the honors?”, said Anna.
“This is going to be so much fun to watch,” said Kelly gleefully.
“It’s going to be hot,” said Anna. “I get all tingly watching Paul punish the slaves. Especially the beta males and sissies.”
“I know you do, girlfriend. Me too,” said Kelly. “I think it’s only fair that each of the boys give him sixty spanks, so you and I get to enjoy this equally,” said Kelly.
“Sounds good. Okay with you guys?,” said Anna.
“Fine. After you,” Paul said to Archer.
“Happy to dish out some discipline to the old cuck. Should we take him up to the dungeon and put him over the bench?”, asked Archer.
“No need to. We have to use our hands for now because we can’t leave any asting marks on his ass. So just take him over your knee,” Paul replied.
“Oh, how I wish we could cane or strap him! I think the cane is a lot more persuasive than just your hands. And the welts can be lovely,” said Anna.
“Someday, babe. You just have to be patient,” said Paul. “Not one of your strong suits, I realize.”
“Don’t worry, ladies. I will make sure his spanking is plenty persuasive. Get over my knees, old man,” commanded Archer.
“Yes, sir.” I draped myself over his knees, incredibly ashamed as I felt my hard cock press through my tights against the jeans covering his firm thighs.
“Do you feel his little stiffie on your leg, honey?,” Kelly asked, tittering.
“I do, but not for long. I’m going to beat it out of him. By the time I’m finished with him, he’ll be as limp as one of the overcooked noodles he served us,” said Archer. I felt his sizable hand resting on the center of my tights-clad bottom. Without warning, he lifted his hand and brought it down sharply on my right cheek.
I typically tried to be stoic in such moments, but the ferocity of his strike (and the suddenness of it) caused me to cry out, “Ouch!” I heard the amusement of our audience.
“That’s right, honey. Give it to him good! Pull down his tights and give it to him on the bare,” said Kelly.
Archer did as Kelly requested. What followed were repeated, loud smacking sounds of flesh striking flesh – as Archer carefully alternated cheeks – accompanied by a slow but steady buildup of pain. The tights had offered negligible protection. The sound was the big difference, but it seemed to provide a more satisfying sensory experience for my three students, who were witnessing the remarkable spectacle of their professor being punished like a naughty child. By the 30th spank or so, the pain was intense. And Archer was correct, my cock had deflated under his relentless assault on my bottom. Not as severe as a cane or strapping certainly, but a hand spanking that rivaled Luke’s in intensity.
I heard Kelly say, “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Look at that shade of red, will you?”
“Not as lovely as welts, but not bad,” added Anna.
By the 50th spank, my attempt at stoicism was a distant memory.
“Please, sir. Please don’t hit me so hard.” He ignored me, delivering the final ten with extra zeal, if anything. When he was finished, it was difficult for my mind to process the fact that my chastisement was only halfway complete.
After Archer pushed me unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor, my tights still lowered to just below my poor, tenderized bottom, Kelly ordered me to stand up. I started to pull up my tights as I stood, but she said with surprising sternness, “Did I say you could pull up your tights, professor? Leave them down so we can all get a proper look at your little cock. Turn around and stand before us. Put your hands on top of your head.”
When I complied with her order, my cock was still quite limp, somewhat shriveled even. But almost as soon as I stood up, I felt it began to stir under their scrutiny.
“Look at the tiny, hairless thing.,” said Anna, smiling contemptuously.
“Pathetic,” said Archer, with a sneer.
“Oh, look. It’s starting to get bigger. That was quick! It must like all of the attention,” laughed Kelly.
With each humiliating comment, it grew harder. My ass was burning, but no longer under a constant barrage (for the moment, at least), the sensation only fueled my involuntary, indeed most unwanted, arousal.
“It looks like it’s up to me beat his hard-on back out of him,” said Paul, patting his knee. “Come over here, Rollins, so I can finish your correction. Leave your tights down. You have 60 more coming.”
As this was unthinkable to me, I felt compelled to try to negotiate – or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say, grovel. When I walked over to where Paul was sitting, rather than lie over his knees, I dropped to my own, at his feet.
“My lord, Sir Archer’s punishment was quite severe. I’m not sure that I can take another 60 right now. I beg you to show some mercy to your lowly page by deferring some of my punishment until next Tuesday.” I then grasped his right foot with my hands and began kissing the tops of his brown, leather shoe. “Please, my lord.”
That Paul was triumphant, bringing me to my knees and abasing myself at his feet – even without being expressly commanded to do so – was clearly evident in his supremely smug, self-satisfied expression. It was painful to behold, but not as painful as another 60 spanks on my already wounded bottom would be. Groveling was a skill that I been refining over the last several months with Luke, so I continued my efforts.
“Please, my lord. Surely you and Princess Anna have some more dry cleaning that needs to be done or some other errands that need to be run. Your humble page is at your disposal.”
“This is a trip,” said Kelly.
“It IS a sign of strength for a ruler to occasionally grant mercy. What do you think, babe?”, said Anna.
“I’m considering it,” said Paul. “Sharing information might help your cause, page. Tell me, what is the story with you bringing Neil Lawson a cup of coffee today? That coffee shop is on the other side of campus. Is that a service that you regularly provide for him? Before you answer, you should know that if I sense you’re not being completely truthful, I’ll add 20 spanks to your punishment now, rather than reduce or defer any of it. If I find out you’re lying after the fact, the consequences for you will be dire.”
To say that I felt somewhat trapped at that moment would be an understatement. I certainly didn’t want to reveal any information to Paul about the nature of my relationship with my colleague, and yet I felt that not doing so was perilous. The slippery slope, again.
So, I continued my descent. “I bring Neil a cup of coffee four days a week, my lord.”
“Why? Are you his lackey or something? You’re senior to him on the faculty, right? Shouldn’t he be the one bringing you coffee, if anything?”
“It’s true that Neil doesn’t have tenure yet but he’s up for tenure in the spring. But it’s not like junior faculty members run errands or anything like that for senior faculty members. It’s just that Neil knows that I’m on a diet and feels that the exercise will do me good. He takes a personal interest in my health and physical fitness, as my friend.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me. I’ve seen Neil lifting weights with Luke at the gym a couple of times. It looks like they’re getting to be pretty chummy.”
“Yes, my lord, they like to work out together. They bond over sports.”
“Interesting. Is Neil aware of your weekly weigh-ins and punishments for failing to lose weight?”, Paul continued his interrogation.
“Yes, my lord,” I answered, deeply ashamed.
“Well, you’ve definitely lost quite a bit of weight, professor. Keep up the good work!”, said Kelly, with seeming sincerity. What a surreal moment this was, I thought to myself.
“Thank you, Princess Kelly.”
“Does Luke allow Neil to witness your weigh-ins and punishments,” Paul asked.
“Yes, my lord. Twice.”
“Keep kissing my shoes when you’re not speaking. Does Luke allow Neil to participate in your punishments?”
“Yes, my lord. Once.” I started kissing the bottom of his right shoe.
Being humiliated and punished by Luke was shameful. Neil’s participation in my punishment and humiliation made it infinitely more so. Being humiliated and punished by my students was incredibly shameful. Them knowing that Neil, another professor in my department, not only was aware of, but even took an active part in my punishment and humiliation was indescribably shameful. It was more than a slippery slope. It was quicksand. And I was sinking deeper by the second.
Paul was not yet done with his interrogation, however. “What other services do you provide for Professor Lawson, besides bringing him coffee?”
I hesitated. But mindful of Paul’s warning (he did seem to have some mysterious ability to intuit and/or discover things about me), I came clean, thereby deepening the pit in which I was sinking: “On Wednesdays, when he has several back-to-back classes, I have started to massage his feet in his office.”
“I knew it! Last week when I walked into his office and you were there, you were acting very nervous. I saw his shoes on the floor next to his desk. There’s not really many reasons to take off your shoes and socks on a freezing day. I had a sneaky suspicion that that’s what was going on. You’re an even bigger beta than I could’ve conceived of, Rollins. Is there anyone you’re not subservient to?”
“Yes, my lord….I mean, prior to 10 months ago…I wasn’t submissive to anyone….except in…my…my, imagination. Everything’s different now…”
“You’re leading a male masochist’s dream! Lick the bottom of my shoe. Do you realize how extraordinarily fortunate you are, old man?”
“Yes, my lord,” I said before reapplying my tongue to the sole of Paul’s shoe.
“This discussion has been very useful. You’ve given me all kinds of ideas about how to further enhance your submissive experience to make it truly exceptional. To make it world class. All the building blocks are already in place. We just need to find a way to integrate them,” Paul said.
“Look how hard his baby cock is! He loves the idea!”, said Anna.
“Now lie down across my lap. The new information I learned just now has caused me to feel magnanimous, so I will grant you mercy by deferring 20 of your spanks until Tuesday and pardoning 10 altogether,” Paul said.
At that exact moment, having my remaining punishment cut in half (at least for that day), I was more grateful about the present reprieve than concerned about any possible future danger that might result from Paul’s increased knowledge. It was only later, during many restless, sleep-deprived nights, that I began to really worry about the possible implications of Paul knowing that I was also submissive to my fellow professor.
“You are very kind, my lord,” I said as his hand came crashing down on the center of my ass. The irony of the moment produced hearty laughter from both Anna and Kelly.
My tights were still lowered, so my erect, bare cock pressed against the denim – a coarser variety than Archer’s – of Paul’s jeans. How much shame could one person endure in a single evening? But it was only 8:30 PM; I still had over an hour left with my young tormentors.
Whereas Archer’s technique was to alternate cheeks, Paul preferred picking one spot and sticking to it for repeated spanks. He focused on the center of my bottom, initially 10 strikes where the crack of my ass began and then moving methodically lower until the final 20 were on the area closest to my scrotum. Unfortunately, Paul hit harder today than on my last visit, no doubt making sure he at least matched the force of Archer in front of the two young women, who were watching with rapt attention. As he delivered the final twenty or so spanks, the pain was searing and I began kicking my legs more and more and squirming around on his lap in a futile attempt to alleviate it, or to escape. On the bright side, my erection quickly subsided under the intensity of his assault.
“Stay still, or I will add the 30 back,” he warned, sternly, grabbing my right arm and holding it tightly behind my back with his free hand.
When he was finally done, he roughly pulled up my tights, producing a wedgie effect, and almost playfully swatted my bottom twice, saying, “You may get up now. Go stand in the corner. Hands behind your head.”
I did as commanded, but Kelly objected, “Why did you pull his tights back up? I want to see what shade of red his ass is now.”
“Lower your tights, page boy,” ordered Anna.
“Yes, princess,” I said, following her command. My eyes were wet with tears, but I was hoping they wouldn’t notice. I wanted to at least deprive them of the satisfaction that they caused me to cry.
“Do I hear sniffling, professor? Did getting spanked by his big, mean student make the poor, wimpy professor cry?”
“No, Princess Kelly.”
“I’m not sure I believe you,” Kelly replied.
“Look at his ass. The color reminds me of raw hamburger meat. Are you sure it will heel quickly enough, babe?”, asked Anna.
“Archer and I hit him hard, but not hard enough for any permanent bruises. The color will fade quickly,” said Paul. “Sort of like a sunset. An intense color that fades quickly.”
“Too bad. It’s such a lovely color, “ said Kelly.
After 10 minutes, during which they passed around a joint and continued to tease me, Anna said, “You’re right, the color is starting to fade already. Turn around, you naughty page boy, and face us. Keep your hands on your head.”
“Well, the color of ass may be like setting like the sun, but his little cock is compensating for it,” said Kelly, with a giggle.
“Pathetic,” commented the eloquent Archer.
I looked down to see my cock standing at attention through my tights, wishing I could simply disappear. I stood there shamefully for another twenty minutes as they finished a second joint.
After they finished, Anna said, “We’re running out of time before the good professor turns into a pumpkin. It’s time for your reward, professor. Obeisance!”
Recalling last week, I quickly dropped to the floor down on my belly and clasped my hands behind my back.
“Very good. You remembered,” Anna said. “Now slither on your belly to our feet, as we taught you.”
I began my humiliating belly crawl across the floor – only a few feet, but it felt like many more – my hard cock grinding into the hardwood, once again fearful that the combination of the potent humiliation and the stimulus to my cock would result in me ejaculating en route. Fortunately, it did not. Once I reached them, I craned my neck up to look at the four pairs of shoes hovering above me, and planted a kiss on the top of each, as I had been instructed during my last visit.
Anna then said, “Kelly, switch places with Paul, please.”
Once she did, Anna ordered me to lie on my back next to where she and Kelly were seated on the sofa. Rolling over, I winced with pain as my bottom touched the floor. From experience, I knew that sitting would be uncomfortable for the next day or two.
She then said to Kelly, “Do you want to provide the olfactory stimulation or the tactile stimulation?”
As if this was a routine occurrence in their lives, Kelly said, “Oh, definitely the tactile stimulation. It will be fun to toy with his little dicklet. Besides, based on what Paul said about your foot sweat, you’re the one who can provide the best olfactory stimulation.” Kelly chuckled.
“Very funny,” said Anna, smiling. “Very well.”
Anna removed her heels and placed her moist stocking-clad feet directly over my nose and mouth. Kelly kept her heels on and began pressing the toe of her right heel firmly into my balls, through my tights. She then began lightly kicking my balls. It was mildly painful, but not so painful that it caused my hard cock to deflate; it was painful yet still highly arousing, a well calibrated approach that suggested to me that Kelly had some experience tormenting others along similar lines.
“Take deep breaths, professor,” Anna ordered.
Her feet indeed had a strong, distinct odor, at once malodorous and fragrant, sour yet sweet. As I inhaled, Kelly began grinding her heel directly into the underside of my cock, pressing it into my body. Only about three minutes into this sensuous torture, my cock erupted, my semen seeping copiously through my white tights. I groaned involuntarily as I orgasmed, a groan of simultaneous ecstasy and despair. Because I hadn’t come in so long, I produced what was for me at least, a prodigious amount. What appalling, exquisite humiliation! I tried to imagine what it would be like facing my three students in class next week, or for that matter, any time again for the rest of my life. It was certainly a moment that would never be forgotten by anyone in that room.
“It looks like our professor enjoyed his reward,” Kelly said, snickering. “And I could tell when he was about to shoot his wad, so I moved my foot away just in the nick of time.” She picked up her heel and pointed at it, “See no icky professor goo. It’s clean.”
Anna said to me, “You see, being enslaved to us is not all about punishment. There are rewards as well, occasionally.”
“Yes, thank you Princess Anna, Princess Kelly.”
Well, at least I wouldn’t have to lick up my ejaculate this time. Paul threw me a towel. I was permitted to clean myself up and was then ordered to put the towel into the washing machine (by itself, as Anna didn’t want the towel I soiled to be near any of their clothes or linen). I then cleared up the kitchen. Finally, I was allowed to change back into my street clothes. Before I left the apartment, I was required one last time to bow down before each of them, kiss their feet and thank them for allowing me to be of service. I then went down the elevator, relieved to see a different doorman (one who I had never encountered before), who more or less ignored me as I exited the building.
I pulled up to my house at 10:20 P.M., surprised to see the light on in the kitchen. When Brooke and Luke went out to dinner on Thursdays, Luke usually drove, so it was not unusual to see Brooke’s car in the driveway. Maybe they had just forgotten to turn off the lights?
But as I entered the kitchen, I was alarmed to see Brooke sitting alone at the table. Expecting to be asked where I had been, I started trying to think of plausible explanations.
However, Brooke simply looked up at me. She had a glum expression on her face and her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. Something was definitely up.
“Hi, honey,” I said, nervously.
“Hi.”
“Where’s Luke?”
“He’s gone.”
“Will he back later, or is he staying at his house tonight?”
“He’ll be staying at his house every night from now on.”
“What are you talking about? What happened?”
“Go get a bottle of scotch and two glasses. I need a drink.”

Hello,
I've been feeling tormented for the past few months. I have no one to talk to about this issue, as it involves the only two people I'm close with, so I'd really like to get an outside perspective.
I've been in a relationship with my boyfriend (22m) for almost two years now. Things are going well at the moment. We've had some problems in the past, which we managed to more or less resolve through communication, including a major one: a year ago, I crossed some boundaries concerning fidelity. I was lacking a lot of affection in my relationship at the time (we were having frequent arguments due to his lack of effort), and I met a guy at a party who I found very attractive. He started flirting with me, and I let myself enjoy the attention while setting boundaries when he wanted me to be explicit about my attraction (for example, I avoided his invitations to meet up or when he asked me for a kiss). I felt very guilty afterward, cut off contact with the other guy, and told my boyfriend what had happened two or three months later. He forgave me, but now he has a lot of concerns whenever I talk to a guy, which I completely understand.
After that, our relationship was pretty calm. I stopped going out with friends as much—it was mostly just acquaintances from university—so my life revolved around my studies, my hobbies, and my boyfriend. But towards the end of 2023, a new guy joined my program at university. I was the first person to welcome him as he seemed lost. Our interactions were limited to greeting each other in class until Valentine's Day, when I was sitting alone at university, and he came over to join me. He started getting to know me, asking about my hobbies, and suggested we hang out together outside of classes. I was really happy because I missed going out with friends.
The next day, we started sitting next to each other in class, and we got to know each other better. He asked me a lot of questions about my life, my interests, the music I listen to, the books I read, etc. I was thrilled to share these things with someone since few people are interested in these topics when I try to talk about them. But what struck me the most was what he had to say—he has a fascinating world of his own, he's very elegant and romantic, and he has very refined tastes. We had a lot in common, too; we're both passionate about rock music, we both left a science prep school for university for the same reasons, and we're both highly gifted (so we share the same challenges). I started developing feelings as we talked—he's really the type of person I like. I also told him about my love life with my boyfriend, and he told me he was in a relationship too, so I didn't think it was mutual at the time. (Another detail: our respective partners know each other and were friends in high school, which was a funny coincidence for us. Both are studying abroad, so we're in long-distance relationships.)
However, I was very surprised when he asked for my Instagram account that day. He handed me his phone to look up my account, and I saw that his search history was filled with accounts with my name (there must have been about twenty). I didn't say anything but started to wonder if he liked me. I told my boyfriend about this encounter with the guy (omitting the fact that I liked him because I had no intention of crossing any boundaries this time—I wanted to keep it to a friendship, hoping my feelings would fade over time). My boyfriend immediately concluded that the guy was interested in me based on his Instagram searches, the fact that he suggested hanging out together during our first conversation, all his questions about my interests, etc. So, he's very wary of this guy. He said he would tell the guy's girlfriend if he found out he was cheating with me.
For my part, I wanted to check if he was really interested in me or not because I didn't want to ruin a potentially great friendship based on possibly false assumptions. This guy and I have grown very close. We often eat together, go out just the two of us outside of classes, help each other with homework and studying, share a lot about our lives, and do sports together. He's very attentive to me (for example, once I told him I liked a certain kind of compote, and the following days, he started bringing two of them—one for him and one for me; he buys me drinks before meeting up with me; once we went out at 5:30 PM, my mom was supposed to pick me up but had an emergency and he waited with me until 8:30 PM; he gave me a flower made out of origami). I found his behavior quite ambiguous because usually, only guys who are interested in me treat me this way, but he seems genuinely happy for me whenever I talk about my love life with my boyfriend, unlike other guys. Also, he only has close female friends, so I don't know how to interpret his actions.
Recently, I met one of his best friends for the first time when we ran into each other at the university cafeteria. The three of us ate together. When I introduced myself to his friend with my name, she immediately said, "Oh, so you're THE [my name]," which threw me off. I asked her what she meant by "THE [my name]," and the guy jokingly said, "Do you think we talk bad about you?" I played along, saying yes. The girl laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry, he just told me you have a boyfriend studying in [name of city]." I found it strange that they talked about that, as I didn't know this girl at all, and I looked at my friend who seemed quite embarrassed. At one point, I was alone with her, and she said, "[Guy's name] told me you deleted Instagram! Why?" (I was taking a break from social media to focus on my exams, so the guy couldn't message me for a while, which I hadn't thought about—it created some distance between us for a week). I told my boyfriend all this, and it made him very concerned.
In short, my situation is complicated. I really wanted everything to remain purely friendly with this guy because I have real future plans with my boyfriend and I love him sincerely. But when I'm around this other guy, I can't shake off this attraction, and it's becoming quite frustrating because I'm used to being quite assertive and moving things forward quickly when I like a guy, but now I'm holding back despite my desires. Also, my friendship with him really bothers my boyfriend, who thinks the guy has bad intentions and has many concerns about me due to my past actions. But at the same time, I really enjoy this guy's company—I've never had such a pleasant friendship, so I don't want to lose it. I don't know if I should be as wary of him as my boyfriend is. Usually, the guys who like me are much more explicit about it. To my boyfriend, it's obvious that he's interested in me, but personally, I don't know. I'm lost.

This isn’t a complaint. It’s just a weird event that I want to share.
I don’t even live in a regular apartment complex . I live in an extended stay, month to month building. It used to be a Comfort Inn with kitchenettes. It’s now advertised as “extended stay luxury living”. 😂😂😂Been here way longer than hoped but housing these days being what it is…
Extended stay places are a real mixed bag of people. Mostly okay at this place. It’s not cheap digs and they do some serious background checking. Thankfully. But there are some unique people.
The senior lady next door to me is one. I’ve actually brought her up here. She watches TV with the volume at 72 and higher. 25 is normal. That’s not the weird event but she’s involved. Let’s call her LTN (loud tv neighbor).
A couple nights ago I awoke to what sounded like people yelling in the hallway outside near my unit. Regrettably, I got up and opened my front door. Mistake. I see an elderly somewhat disheveled woman in a nightgown standing in front of LTNs door. I guess they were “talking”. Nightgown Lady turns to me and barks “ May I help you?”. My next mistake. I ask her if she knows what time it is. It’s almost 1am, BTW. Nightgown Lady marches over to my door and a little too close for comfort I might add and then says in rapid fire succession:
“I am worried about you” “I am a doctor” “I think you’re drunk”(I wasn’t) “I am a psychiatrist”
I said “Yeah, whatever” and shut the door. Seconds later someone pounded the wall near my front door really hard. I’m assuming one of those old gals decided to throw a haymaker at the wall. Impressive but a bit disturbing.
I had to take half a Xanax to go back to sleep.
And management at this building is absolutely useless with these kinds of noise issues.
Unless there’s a fire or I know for certain someone’s handing out free money, I will not be opening my door at night anymore to see what a ruckus is all about.
Life is one long Seinfeld episode. Swear to gawd.

Hello everyone, I’m a 5th year senior as a double major in exercise science and biomed science with a minor in chemistry. My original plans were PT and then pre-med and now I’ve decided I really want to have a more simple 9-5ish career. I’m doing an internship in corporate wellness this fall semester and I’m thinking that’s probably something I’ll enjoy and want to do but I was curious if anyone else has input. I don’t want to be a fitness instructor or personal trainer. My dream is to find a remote job, I’m not super particular about what I want other than that. What are some good tips for job searching specifically for remote jobs? What sites do you use? What are some good positions to search for entry level? Thanks in advance!
Edit: I also want to add that I LOVE jobs that are the same thing everyday/repetitive. I have extreme burnout due to incredibly hard semesters, doing school full time over summers, and always working full time & multiple jobs. I just want a job that I can have for a few years that is fairly straightforward and won’t consume my life while I try my best to heal from this burnout.

Ive this friend, know him since school. A long time now. Hes aspergers, and very obviously so. Hes sluggish, very clumsy, and has this specific, slow voice tone that aspergers have. We used to hang out a lot, and he was the only friend I spent my break time with in school, we isolated ourselves in a corner and drew goofy comics. Funnily enough, he wasnt bullied, but I was. Different story though.
Anyways, nowadays we are still friends and still hang out but... Im finding it harder and harder to have a good time hanging with him. Hes just... sorry but he is slow, in all ways. Its hard to keep a mature conversation with the guy. And he is very naive and ideas get easily in his head, he uses a lot of this brainrot bullshit in his actual language, especially while texting, and it doesnt feel sarcastic most of the times. I dont wanna tell him any of this because Im pretty much the only... consistent? friend he has and it would wreck him. Hes already in a bad state of mind since his life is obviously harder than other people's, plus his family is pretty poor and his apartment is crowded (guy lives in a tiny apartment with his mom, brother and aunt. Not enough rooms for everyone, so no privacy). Recently I helped him get a job and I keep telling him that he needs to fix his self esteem issues which he refuses to acknowledge most of the times. But I think I do it more to convince myself that Im not an asshole for partly faking this friendship than out of altruism. I mean he is my friend, but I just cant spend normal time with him cause hes admitedly not normal. I cant mock him like I mock my other friends very often cause he would take it to heart, not as a joke. I cant go do sports with him or hiking or any of that cause hes sluggish and doesnt like doing anything physical out of fear or shame or whatever. I cant generally have serious convos with him cause he gets bored unless its about animals. Yknow how autism makes people fixate on one specific thing and be really good at it? Thats animals for this guy. Its not a bad thing, its just hard to speak with him sometimes cause it seems the only thing he can be interested in for extended periods of time is animals. I love animal talk, but not all the time, every time.
He keeps asking me to hang out and I do go out with him when I can, but I cant help to think "ugh, guess I gotta do it" whenever I recieve a text from him, and then I feel like an ass for it.
Hes also very gloomy and pessimistic. He says hes just joking but I know its not true. He "jokes" about how worthless he is all the time, but almost never about others. He compares himself to others, to myself, very often. "You can do this, but I cant. Youre good at this, but I suck. Girls at least talk to you". Etc. I keep telling him to drop all that emo bullshit or he will go into a spiral of depression, I tell him he needs to acknowledge hes insecure and work on fixing it. He always says "bro its just jokes Im not insecure". Ive known him for many years, and Im also very familiar with insecurity (I was very insecure and still am to some degree), so I KNOW Im right. And its harder every day to keep trying to stop him from insulting himself so much. Im no therapist yknow? I can help but I can also be drained from so much negativity.
Hes a great guy and I think he deserves some friend who apreciates his friendship as much as he apreciates mine. Cause damn, sometimes it feels like he idolizes me. And I hate it cause I cant reciprocate any of it. He deserves a friend who wont just hang out with him out of pity. I feel like shit for doing it but as I said, I know that if I didnt do it he would probably fall into depression. I try to help him, I do it to cope with the fact that I dont really wanna hang out with him, to feel better with myself. Not out of altruism. And its sad cause we used to hang out all the damn time. But it feels like Ive grown into a different person than I was, while he hasnt. Or maybe Im just making up excuses, maybe Im simply a bit of an asshole after all.

I am standing up in a wedding this fall and my partner and I are having a disagreement. The long and short of it is, we are probably close to $1,000 into this wedding already between bachelobachelorette parties, hotel stays, suits and dresses etc. We bought the couple a wedding gift of a nice commemorative cutting board in the $50 dollar range as well to be given on the wedding day. Now I am of the opinion that we should also give a monetary gift ($100), but my partner does not agree. They feel as though the money we have spent already and the gift we are giving is enough. I am of the opinion that monetary gifts are somewhat standard. I also come from a family where being perceived as cheap can cause grief, but if I do give this gift, it will likely cause grief as well. A few notes - the couple are a bit entitled here. Not terribly so, but definitely do not appreciate just how much people (their families and such) have given towards this wedding. - we are not rich, but we are not broke either. Giving the extra money would be m annoying, but won’t ruin us. - We have spent money like this in other weddings and still given gifts, but those people were perhaps more grateful for their circumstance. AITAH for wanting to give this monetary gift?

I've had some ideas for a while on how some TI mechanics could be reworked or implemented differently. I figured that I may as well write them out to post here. Just to be clear, I'm not saying the game should necessarily add any of these, they're just ideas I think would be interesting to discuss.
Factions
Unified player faction: Instead of picking from the 7 factions at the start, the player always begins as a UN committee trying to formulate a response to the crisis. Your actions during the early days align you towards one of the factions.

• 2 factions are guaranteed to split off around the time that the Academy crackdown currently happens
  • If you align with Humanity First or Resistance, Protectorate and Servants leave
  • If you align with Academy, Initiative, or Exodus, HF and Servants leave
  • If you align with Servants or Protectorate, HF and Resistance leave
• Depending on how you manage the other factions, you'll likely have 2 more split off by mid-game

Faction Senate: This idea was inspired by the Galactic Council from Stellaris. The UN space council is a body of 100 members formed a few months into the crisis that starts with little power, but can grow in power and implement bigger policies as the game progresses.

• Factions try to align council members towards their voting bloc through various methods
  • Bribery, lobbying, blackmail (spending money, influence, ops)
  • Controlling appointment of new members
    • At game start, members selected from random country, weighted by total CP, similar to EU4 bishops
    • Appointed councilors have a chance of being a faction member based on CP control of the country they're from
    • Change to direct proportional elections, regional proportion system, or 2 members per independent country
• Initial UN announcement decision can give more starting aligned members
  • Public announcement grants 10 members, subtle manipulation grants 6, staying in the shadows grants 2
• The space council can implement a variety of policies. Policies take time to implement based on resources available, taken from IP taxes and faction contribution
  • Sanctioning non-democracies
  • Changing how councilors are chosen
  • Deploying sun shades
  • Forming a world government
  • Inviting representatives from the Alien Administration
• Countries and factions can withdraw to starve the organization of funding and legitimacy, at the cost of becoming unable to influence it anymore and losing any benefits it can bring

4 faction start: Each faction starts in a pair with another faction. The factions still play the same as now, but basically you have a guaranteed ally to start with.

• Eventually the differences in the faction will cause issues
  • You can resolve your differences and merge the other one into your faction
  • Purge the other faction to destroy them. You'll get the majority of their assets but many are destroyed or taken by others
  • Split amicably
• Factions
  • Anti-alien: Resistance / Humanity First, moderate vs radical
  • Coexistance: Academy / Protectorate, idealistic vs cynical
  • Pro-alien: Servants / Aliens, partial vs total subjugation
  • Unaligned: Initiative / Project Exodus, short-term vs long-term escapism

Orgs
Orgs as actors: This idea is inspired from a discussion on this subreddit. Orgs act like restricted councilors, able to perform certain actions on their own.

• Action set depends on category of org
  • Foreign intelligence can increase unrest in other countries
  • Domestic intelligence can crackdown and defend interests in its own country
  • Media companies can increase support
  • Special forces can assassinate and detain
• Orgs have skill level of 4/8/12 based number of stars
• Existing government orgs will perform certain actions even if no faction owns them
• Orgs can still be set to support councilors, like what they do now

Org development: Orgs can be created and leveled up

• Private orgs require money and time investment
  • Factions can start an org in any category they want with a time and money investment as well
• Government orgs leveled up through IP investment
  • Countries have org capacity, similar to councilors, but based on GDP
  • Consumed org capacity costs IPs, similar to armies
  • Nations can create new orgs from specific categories
    • Foreign/domestic intelligence
    • Counterterrorism
    • Special forces
    • Research

Org charts: Every organization, including CPs, is made up of org charts of characters. Control of CPs depends on controlling specific positions at the top of each chart

• Most characters only have limited simulation, just a name/age/nationality.
  • Characters will get moved around occasionally due to promotions, dying, retiring, losing election, etc.
• Factions recruit characters to their side, then promote them internally like in Shadow of Mordor
  • Certain forms of recruitment don't reveal the character as a member to allow infiltration
• Controlled characters can be promoted to a faction's inner circle and become a full councilor
• Org structure depends on the type of org
  • Promotion/appointment system
  • Internal elections
  • Number of executives
  • Power of different roles

Control Points
Control point autonomy: Control points will have some control over investment

• Direct control, ie trade unions automatically siphon some IPs to welfare
• Soft requirement like spoils, ie defense sector demand on a percent of IPs directed towards military

Increased priority weighting: Certain CPs will count for double when calculating the percent of IPs assigned to a priority

• Corporations counts as 2 CPs for the economy category
• Executive counts as 2 CPs for all categories

Resources
Near-future alloys: Got the idea from the nanofiber in 3 Body Problem. Create a mid-tier resource that has to be manufactured on Earth or in orbit to build mid-game modules and ships

• Modern alloys assumed to be cheap and easy to manufacture, costs stay as basic resources

TL;DR: Is it a bad idea to withhold allowance because of bad behavior?
I am getting my soon-to-be 6 year old started with an allowance to teach him money management. This involves weekly deposits into an interest-bearing kids' account that is linked to one of those educational apps for kids. He has been expressing interest in money and buying things, so we think it is a good time.
We are in the process for setting ground rules for this account: He will get a standing weekly deposit but can earn extra money for chores or other tasks as we deem fit. He can spend whatever he has saved, but we will encourage saving by helping him to eventually understand the concept of interest.
One of the ground rules we are kicking around is whether to tie his behavior to his allowance at all. He has frequent behavioral issues and we get calls from the school counselor at least a couple times a month.
Do you think it is unreasonable to withhold allowance during a given week if his behavior has been unacceptable? (I'm talking more about egregious things like fighting or bullying than other things that are just normal 6 year old behavior) We have been framing good behavior as one of his basic responsibilities as a member of the household.
The reason I am hesitant about this is that money was used very often in my family as a means of manipulation. And I am afraid that making allowance contingent on his behavior might come close to doing the same thing.
But on the flip side, we are reticent to pay allowance to him if he is continually exhibiting unacceptable behavior.
What do you think?