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Something for the Weekend: The New Room

This week I’m offering a little from the novella length, finale to the Perfect Submissive series, The New Room

#somethingfortheweekend

Blurb

A Perfect Submissive Series short story. (Following on from The Perfect Submissive Trilogy)

Resident submissive of the Fables Hotel’s adult entertainment floor, Miss Jess Sanders, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.

With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the fifth floor’s new room.

Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for… at freezing temperatures.

With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables’ perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters’ new room, and beyond…

Extract

Her instructions had been to go through the door, walk three paces forward, and then stand and wait inside the fifth floor’s latest facility.

Frost was already crusting over Jess’ shoulders, and the dampness of anticipation that gathered at her crotch prickled as it chilled against her surrounding’s winter-like caress. Her eyes stung with as she blinked into the stark brightness of the space, but as Jess’ hands had been secured behind her back, she couldn’t rub them better.

As the submissive looked about her, she saw that not only could the discerning paying guest at the hotel enjoy the delights of a pseudo-school room, a Victorian study, a dungeon, a medical bay, and the intimidating White Room; they could now experience icy arousal in a fairy-tale style snow grotto.

The ceiling and walls had been studded with crystals and draped with shimmering chiffon fabric that took away the room’s rectangular proportions, making the space feel cavernous. Tiny silver fairy-lights sparkled like glitter, while genuine ice granules clung to every surface, including the fake snow that made a distinct crunch beneath Jess’ strappy silver heels.

Having been stripped of all her clothes by a silent Mrs Peters, prior to being thrust across the new room’s threshold, Jess had been surprised that she’d been allowed her to keep her shoes on. Now she understood why. Only the heavy silver and green velvet robe that had been hung around her naked shoulders gave the submissive any level of protection against the all-invading cold. If she’d had to stand on bare feet in the room, even after all her endurance training, Jess wouldn’t have lasted for more than a few minutes before she had frost bitten soles and toes.

Surveying her surroundings more thoroughly, Jess was just contemplating how easy it would be to hide instruments of sexual play and deprivation between the fake cavern walls and the real walls, when she became aware of the sound of a faint hum.

The distinct brrring vibration of a refrigeration unit.

No wonder it felt so arctic; the room was literally a freezer.

A freezer that held nothing but two chairs, that sat in the very centre of the frost-crisped pseudo-cave.

One seat was more like a fairytale throne than a chair. Made of wrought iron and painted silver, its high back was decorated with intricate butterfly and flower shapes. Well padded with plush, silver satin cushions over the back and seat, Jess already knew it was far too comfortable to have been placed in the room for her use.

The chair to the throne’s right was stark by comparison. Wooden and straight backed; it had been painted plain white and held neither ornamentation nor cushions. That’s where I’ll have to sit, Jess thought, if I’m permitted to sit at all.

The crunch of snow being scraped behind her told Jess that someone had opened the door. She didn’t turn to see who it as. She knew better than that.

A pair of hands came to her shoulders, but the heavy fabric of her cloak prevented Jess from being able to tell whose grip it was. Mrs Peters had told her this was to be the first staff training session in this room; therefore the hands had to belong to a member of the Fables staff. The tone of the breathing behind her, combined with the size of the handhold, informed Jess the newcomer was male. That meant it had to be either Master Lee Philips, the barman and occasional helper on the fifth floor, or Mr Sam Wheeler, Mrs Peters’ personal slave, business partner, and professional artist.

The hands didn’t move from their position on Jess’s shoulders as the whirr of the generator was abruptly drowned out by the activation of some ethereal music from a speaker hidden between the folds of the fake ceiling. The haunting Celtic lyrics drifted into Jess’ ears, adding to the eerie atmosphere and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the unknown person stepped closer to her back.

With each fresh second that passed, Jess had the uneasy feeling that she’d walked into the throne room of the Snow Queen – a wicked Snow Queen.

The masculine hands moved slowly. The confidence of touch that Jess had come to recognise from the men on the Fables staff was missing. As the palms slid down her arms, ducking beneath her cloak, the visitor took each of the submissive’s tethered wrists in his hands, and briskly marched Jess forward.

The submissive’s mind raced. Who is this man?…

Buy from

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iBooks UK
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“Fans of The Perfect Submissive series rejoice. This is the novella we’ve been longing for. I won’t spoil it but this story had me bouncing with glee. All of your favourite characters make an appearance and as you would expect, the scenes are intense and exciting. A big thumbs up and sexy striptease for this wonderful short story.” Goodreads 

Happy reading.

Kay xx

Something for the Weekend: Wednesday on Thursday

This weekend, I’m tempting you with an extract from my sexy word based novella, Wednesday on Thursday 

#somethingfortheweekend 

Blurb

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the café stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

… Wednesday had selected her clothes with more care than usual. She told herself she was wearing her best underwear because it gave her more confidence. It was absolutely not because she’d spent a largely sleepless night dreaming of the coffee guy’s expression as he ran his shrewd gaze over her jet black satin bra with matching knickers.

With one extra button open on her shirt, Wednesday left her flat, raking her hand restlessly through her long chestnut hair. She kept telling herself that he was just a bloke who got off on the power of making her feel sexy. That was perfectly all right by her, because he clearly had no intention of doing anything beyond titillating her imagination.

Wednesday had experienced her fair share of relationships during her twenty-nine years, but no-one had ever managed to arouse her with a single glance before.

‘For goodness sake, woman, you don’t even know his name!’ Even though she kept trying to talk sense into herself, the four hours until lunchtime couldn’t pass fast enough.

By the time her break finally arrived, Wednesday thought her heart was going to thud right through her chest with nervous tension. Walking into the café, she was more than usually aware of the sound of her heels clattering across the wooden floor.

Wednesday forced herself not to look for him, to just queue up for her latte and toasted sandwich as she always did. Even though she managed to prevent herself from obviously surveying the busy room, she covertly hunted for him nonetheless.

He wasn’t there. A sensation of disappointment gripped her. She felt stupid; humiliated even. But only briefly.

There was an envelope on her regular table.

Sitting down with her food and drink, Wednesday gaped at the cream coloured envelope. Her name was written in clear script across its front.

Wednesday took a soothing sip of her drink as she wondered if the coffee guy was hidden nearby. She had an uneasy feeling that, if he was secretly observing her, he’d be getting off on watching her reactions. Struggling to steady her erratic breathing, Wednesday was more than a little aware that her tits were doing their best to burst through their satin holster.

Exhaling slowly, she opened the envelope.

The words had an instant impact on her internal temperature gauge. Wednesday’s body began to alternate between flushing with heat and shivering with cold, as if she was getting a fever and a chill at the same time.

Dear Wednesday,

Forgive my rudeness for not having properly introduced myself before now.

My name is Lucas.

I will be blunt. I find you fascinating, and would like to make love to you. I would like to say my intentions are honourable, but they are not. They are lust-driven, and I feel it only fair you know that from the start.

If you are interested in knowing more, then please come to the address below once you have consumed your toasted sandwich. If you choose not to visit, then I will leave you in peace from this moment forward.

Whatever your decision, I would prevail upon you to keep this correspondence private.

Flat 1.

56 Chambers Way.

Regards,

L x

P.S. I apologise for the coffee incident. I trust I did not damage you. I will make the sincerity of my regret known to you should you decide to be my guest.

Wednesday didn’t finish her lunch.

Her legs had started taking her in the direction of Chambers Way without bothering to ask the rest of her if it was a good idea or not.

She knew the address.

The building, a private block of flats, was only two hundred metres from the office block where Wednesday had been employed as an administration clerk for the past two years.

Knowing she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t find out what was within Flat 1, with her pulse racing, Wednesday hovered outside a dark green front door.

A door that led to Lucas and whatever he planned to do by way of an apology.

Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Wednesday knocked twice…

Buy Now

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Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Weekend: Yes Ma’am

For this week’s #somethingfortheweekend, I’m treating you to some #femdom action from Yes Ma’am.

Blurb

Could you write your wildest fantasies on your best friend’s boyfriend, or sell your sexual soul to a woman in black?

Find out how far army cadet, Luke Porter, will go to improve his standing within his regiment, and discover the consequences of losing your temper on London’s Underground in this collection of wrist binding, whip wielding, butt spanking tales of female domination.

Yes Ma’am contains six straight and bi-sexual encounters of the S&M nature.

The six stories, each taking a different take on the FemDom experience, are…

Lying in Wait– Cadet Luke Porter is the least successful army recruit in the squadron. His female counterparts are determined to find out how far Luke will go to improve his standing within the regiment…

Black – He is intoxicated by the woman in black. He can’t explain why he needs to see her or why he willing does precisely what she tells him to…

Dear Claire – Ali has secretly lusted over her best friend’s lover Rick, for a long time. At least, she thought it was a secret…

“Don’t You Emma” – Sitting in an armchair has never been so difficult…

Not Taking the Tube – Venting his frustration at being delayed yet again by London’s Underground system on the nearest official, the harassed businessman finds his complaints aren’t received in quite the way he’d expected…

Rachel’s Twisted Tale – Rapunzel never suffered like this….

***

Here’s an extract from “Don’t You Emma.”

… Lee sat back in the leather armchair. She’d told him that all he had to do to get a damn good fucking was to stay in the chair until she decreed otherwise.

As he watched Daisy move around the living room Lee thought, not for the first time, how inappropriately named she was. The name suggested someone meek, gentle and childlike. It didn’t conjure the image of a tall, fit, fake blonde, who could get her rocks off simply by beating your arse until it glowed purple.

She was clearing the space in front of him. The coffee table had already been repositioned to the side of the chair, and the newspapers that usually lay all over the place had been stacked up. All the cushions he’d thrown off the sofa had been neatly placed back where they belonged.

‘You are going to reward me for watching you clean up?’ Lee was amused by this uncharacteristic fit of tidying.

Daisy gave him a stare that would have chilled a lesser man to the bone, but Lee had known her for a long time and all it did was increase the arousal of her promise to give him a good seeing-to.

‘I don’t believe I said you could talk to me while you were waiting.’

‘Come off it, Daisy. You’re only doing the chores.’

Ignoring him, his partner brushed her hands together, and glancing at the increased floor space across the now uncluttered pale green carpet, left the room.

Lee’s imagination had already moved on to what reward he was going to get for being a good, patient boy. He wondered if he’d have to endure a spanking, or if she’d bind or gag him. Flickers of tense longing played in his stomach and stirred his groin.

Glancing at the clock on the corner of the bookcase, he listened to the quiet tick. It seemed to fill the room as he waited with growing impatience for Daisy’s return. He assumed she was fetching her sex toys, or perhaps changing into something less comfortable. It was with a sense of a surprise and unease, however, that Lee heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices.

Despite only wearing a red T-shirt and some lightweight black combats, Lee suddenly felt rather hot as Daisy re-entered the lounge with company.

The warning glint in Daisy’s eyes confirmed that Lee should stay precisely where he was, his legs outstretched before him, his arms resting on the chair’s soft padded arms, his mouth shut.

His dark brown eyes moved from his lover to the girl with her. About 25 years old perhaps, with long ginger hair that hung in two perfectly tied pigtails. Slim, but with enough of a curve to catch the eye, her green gaze had a keen, eager to please gleam, that just hinted at mischief.

Lee swallowed very carefully. Daisy hadn’t, had she? Not really? He opened his mouth to ask her if he was right, or if his imagination was running away with him. No sound came out though. He didn’t want to risk her saying he was mistaken and ruining the fantasy that roller-coasted around his lust driven head.

The girl, without taking off either the boots or the long winter coat she wore, even though it was a warm summer’s day, answered his unspoken question, as she lowered her head and knelt on the cleared floor before Daisy; her mistress.

‘Oh my!’ His words were barely audible. Daisy either hadn’t heard them or had dismissed them as unimportant. Lee concentrated very hard on breathing; forcing himself to sit still and not lean forward in the chair…

***

You can find out what happened next within the epages of Yes Ma’am via…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords 

***

Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Weekend: Equipment

For this week’s  #somethingfortheweekend, I thought I’d share a little from my erotic romance /BDSM romance collection: Equipment and other stories

Equipment

Blurb

To his lust driven delight, Lee Cooper’s opinion that his girlfriend simply doesn’t have the Equipment to take control in the bedroom is quickly and deliciously.

Meanwhile, Kim is sick of her gorgeous neighbour Jack bringing home a non-stop string of unsuitable women to screw, while completely failing to notice the girl right under his nose. Taking extreme measures she sets out to prove she is more than just The Girl Next Door.

Mark’s girlfriend is Searching For Her– the perfect woman to make her lover’s dreams come true. A quest which leads her into the path of more than one willing young lady…

****

Here’s an little snippet from Equipment to ease you into the weekend…

The moment I saw his naked arse, I knew that I wanted to fuck it, and I told him so. It was the first time I’d seen Lee Cooper unsure of himself. For a split second a veil of uncertainty, possibly even fear, had crossed his generally ultra-confident square features. It didn’t last though, and he was soon shrugging my statement off with a lad-ish laugh, ‘you ain’t got the equipment baby,’ as he eased his solid cock into my willing body.

I started working part-time at the garage, where Lee is employed as a mechanic, three months ago. The first thing he said to me, as his clear brown eyes appraised my slight frame and red plaited hair was, ‘I’m looking forward to pulling on those pigtails honey.’ From anybody else I wouldn’t have taken a comment like that, but somehow from Lee it was okay. He exuded a sort of sexual confidence, and the instant and silent knowledge that eventually we would fuck radiated from his every pore. It would have been foolish of me to deny that unspoken understanding, and I privately looked forward to the day I’d discover if the tattoos that adorned his muscular arms, extended to his chest and down his legs.

That was three flirtatious months ago, and it had been fun letting the erotic tension build between us, getting more intense as the weeks of inaction ticked by, but finally, Lee’s resolve had broken. He told me, as he hammered an impatient fist on my front door during his lunch hour, that he’d been changing the oil in a beat-up old motorcar, when he’d realised he couldn’t hold on another moment.

After the glorious frisson of the wait, there was always the risk that the reality wouldn’t live up to the expectation. I hadn’t been disappointed however, far from it.

I smiled to myself as Lee dragged his grubby boiler suit back on, and disappeared down my garden path at a run. His words echoed in my head, “You ain’t got the equipment baby.” A wicked twinkle began to shine in my eyes at the prospect of what lay ahead for the unsuspecting mechanic, and speaking across the empty room, I said, ‘Well actually Mr Lee Cooper, I have all the equipment we could possibly need…’

The thought of his tight arse, of claiming it as my own, of taking control of Lee for a while, and perhaps robbing him of a portion of his macho-attitude, grew within me, and I began to lay plans for the temporary domination of this alpha-male.

On Lee’s next visit, predictably the following lunchtime, I embarked on a mission to both enjoy myself, and to lull him into a false sense of security, neither mentioning how delicious I found his backside, nor my eventual intentions for it. As his calloused hands made their way over my naked chest, pinching my nipples with exquisitely painful squeezes, I groaned with genuine pleasure. Stroking the beautifully toned body that pushed against mine, I relished the sight of the tanned multi-tattooed chest I’d so recently discovered.

It was on Lee’s fourth visit that I kept my hands exclusively on his backside. Patting it gently, smoothing it, and caressing it, in a totally non-threatening way, as my new lover pumped himself swiftly in and out of me.

On the fifth visit Lee announced he’d had a dream about tying me up. His face, when I told him that he could do just that, was a picture. I’m not sure if he was more turned on by the fact he could do anything he liked to me, while my hands were secured behind my naked back, or by the feeling of power my helplessness gave him. I suspect the latter. As Lee’s warm tongue explored my stomach, and ducked skilfully between my spread legs, I wallowed submissively in the blissful feelings that engulfed me.

During visit number six, a rare after work encounter, while Lee was both fucking and smacking my arse with stingingly wonderful efficiency, the last few parts of my plan fell into place, and I knew that my need to take his firm neat backside was reaching the point of obsession.

A little over two weeks after Lee had first turned up on my doorstep, I decided the time had come to act. Laying out my sex toys in a neat row near my pillow, I hid them from view with my duvet. Removing the clutter of clothes from the battered old armchair I keep in the corner of my bedroom, I adjusted its position so that it was at the foot of the bed. Then I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt, and put on my tight black Lycra bodice and matching knickers. The caress of the clinging material against my flesh was enough to increase my pulse-rate, and boot-up the arousal I had been so carefully keeping in check.

Lee’s distinctive knock on the door came at almost exactly seven o’clock as we’d arranged. I smiled quietly to myself at his promptness and, wrapping myself in a black silk robe, descended the stairs to collect my unwitting victim.

‘Wow babe,’ his appreciative eyes ran over my robed frame, ‘like the silk.’ He reached forward, and I allowed Lee to engulf me briefly in his arms, his stubble scratching my cheeks as his mouth came to mine. Then, I broke away from his magnetic warmth, holding him at arms length.

‘You like what you see?’ I grinned at Lee, my green eyes reflecting into his brown ones, ‘you want to see more?’…

****

If you’d like to find out what happens to Lee next, you can buy Equipment from all good e-retailers- including…

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Something for the weekend: A Kink A Day Book One

The time for some erotic reading indulgence has arrived.

This week, I’m easing you into the weekend with an extract from my sexy anthology, 

A Kink a Day- Book One

Blurb:

From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

***

Extract from Through the Gap

I caught my breath as Sally ran through the master bedroom’s door and, without taking time to explain, bundled me away from making the bed, into the dressing room cupboard and slammed the door. I stumbled back amongst the hat boxes and glove racks that filled the small, musty space. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed an eye up to the crack between the ill-fitting double doors, just in time to see both the housekeeper and the Master of the house follow Sally into the room.

There had been rumours, of course. The other members of staff frequently whispered amongst themselves of debauchery and submission, without realising they were being overheard. Six months of working in this house, of being neither seen nor heard as I discharged my duties, had made me an expert at overhearing things, and yet I had discovered nothing concrete to substantiate such gossip.
I suppose I have a rather strange job; it’s a bit like being an actor and a bit like being a domestic, but mostly I’m part of a complex tourist attraction. Each day, my colleagues and I dress in Victorian costume and work our way around a period manor house.

As a chamber maid, my place is in the bedrooms. I dart between all 25 chambers, making and unmaking beds which are never slept in, stoking naked fireplaces, dusting, sweeping and generally doing all those domestic chores associated with Victorian maids. I’m allowed to answer questions from the tourists, but otherwise I have to keep myself to myself, lower my eyes when my betters pass by, and try and remain invisible in their presence. I had dismissed the rumours of sexual deviancy as the product of boredom from some of our senior staff members’ lurid imaginations; fantasies concocted to liven up a slow tourism day. Until now.

Mrs Lawson grabbed Sally’s wrist and pulled her towards the Master. His face was solemn, and a stern furrow appeared on his brow as he peered into the eyes of the scullery maid. ‘Mrs Lawson informs me that you’ve been found wandering about above stairs again, young lady. That is not your place, is it?’
‘No, sir.’ Sally’s voice had taken on a meekness that was so convincing I wondered if it was genuine. I tried to quieten my breathing so I could hear what they were saying.

‘You know the punishment, don’t you?’

Sally nodded at the Master again and I watched as, on a signal from Mrs Lawson, Sally undid her apron and took off her cap and shoes. The housekeeper then leant forward and yanked off my colleague’s black working dress, so that she stood shivering in some far-from-Victorian underwear.

Mrs Lawson’s eyebrows rose. ‘And what exactly are those, young lady?’ her voice was harsh, but the high points of colour that had appeared on her face showed how much she was enjoying the situation as she observed Sally in her black stockings, matching bra and knickers.

Sally said nothing, but hung her head in humble submission, as the Master of the house placed a large hand on the back of her neck, gripping it firmly.
‘You have the collar, Mrs Lawson?’

‘Indeed, sir,’ the housekeeper produced a short black leather collar from her capacious apron pocket, and swiftly secured it around the maid’s pale neck. Then, rummaging further, she pulled out a thin lead and clipped it to the small silver loop that was positioned at the front of the collar.

My throat felt as if it had dried closed; I could hardly swallow as I watched, afraid of being discovered, but at the same time wishing the gap I was peering through was bigger, so I could see more.

I was unable to hear what the Master was saying now; he’d lowered his voice, almost to a whisper as he pulled on the lead which hung between her breasts. Then, in one swift, brutal movement, he grabbed the front of her bra and pulled it off, snapping the strap beyond repair. Her tits spilled out, revealing themselves to be even bigger than they’d first appeared. I moistened my lips. I could almost taste them and, enviously, I watched as the Master, yanking on the lead, bought Sally closer to him, before bowing down and engulfing a hard, nut brown nipple between his lips.

Sally had been a friend ever since I’d joined the house’s workforce, and unbeknownst to her, I’d had a massive crush on her from the first time I’d admired her in her pristine white apron and mop cap. To see her receive another’s erotic attentions was agony to my jealous body. I pressed my eye harder to the crack and strained my ears so I could hear the muted mewls my eyes told me were emanating from her lipstick-free mouth.

Mrs Lawson, who’d been watching the scene before her with obvious satisfaction, stepped forward and, once she had received approval from her superior, bent to Sally’s other breast. I could imagine so well how wonderful that would feel, the tingling attention, the sharp tang of want that each nip, each kiss, would send hurtling between her legs as both tits were stimulated at once.

I was aware of my own growing arousal. It had been simmering at the back of my mind ever since Sally had thrown me into the cupboard. Now it was controlling me, and I couldn’t help wondering if my friend had engineered things so I could observe her. A second’s panic shot through me, and I pulled away from the door. What if Sally told them I was here? What would they do to me if they found me? Then I sort of hoped they would find me. My breasts chaffed against my bra and stiffly starched uniform, as I wondered how I’d cope in Sally’s position.

My fantasy was cut short by a sharp scream, and I was drawn back to the real life drama in the adjoining room. The maid’s knickers had, in my few second’s lapse of concentration, been removed, and she was now on all fours. Mrs Lawson held a short white cane, which she had presumably kept in her apron pocket, and was rhythmically tanning Sally’s backside as the Master pulled the lead, making the girl walk after him like an obedient bitch on heat.

I was able to view them from every angle, as they moved in circles around the room, Sally yelping as the cane struck her neat backside. Our Master’s eyes blazed, his dick bulging beneath his suit trousers, while the housekeeper revelled in her administration of pain.

Without registering what I was doing, I slipped off my apron and slid a hand into my knickers as I watched. My juices stuck to my fingertips as I imagined Sally’s liquid dripping from her damp pussy. For despite her calls of anguish, the maid’s face glowed with desire, and there was no doubt in my mind that this scenario had been played out, and enjoyed, many times before….

If you want to find out what happened next you can buy A Kink a Day One from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

 

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