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Malins Gets Her Titulus...

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Oh yeah. Probably you owned a VCR for thirty years that was always blinking "12:00" in red LED?
my last one blinked green... I never figured out why manufactures were stuck on the number '12' but religious texts like 3, 7, and 'shooting craps' 7 and 11 are good... Maybe it is cult thing...

There's no religion
You made that
It's there to make your leaders' fat

-I Hunter
 
If the lecture wasn’t to Malins’ satisfaction what happens afterwards does not cheer her up at all. Profession Moore has the brought to the UVM’s Department of Corrections and Disciple Office where she is taken to sweltering hot subbasement where not only resides the university’s boiler that supplies the heat and hot water for the campus but the Detention and Demerit Facility. There her wrists are locked in leather cuffs to bars above her head and her ankles a similarly bound to bars holding her legs spread 2/3 of a meter apart at her ankles. One of the ‘staff’ gives her sex a rough fingering and gropes her breasts.

“You cannot do this to me” I shout. “Even falsely convicted prisoners have rights!”

“First you’re a condemned felon and I obviously can because I just did, you stupid cunt” he says as he licks my neck and ear. I spit in his face and try to knee his in the groan but the restraints barely let my knee get above his and I get the idea others have spat in his face before as he wipes it off and rubs it in my hair. He adds “Besides tonight after ‘Salt and Pepper’ are done with you I think I’ll take my turn with that ‘squeeze box’ of yours!’ My only orders are that you arrive at your cross without any visible marks. Even if you have ‘another bun in the oven’ I doubt it will be showing in a week!”

I was wondering what a ‘squeeze box’ but I look down between my breasts at my spread legs and think I know what he has in mind! Damn, these are corrupt filthy bastards. He leaves and I am left alone bound to the bars. Time passes as I sweat near the boiler before I hear the clicking of two pairs of stiletto-heeled shoes clicking on the cement floor as they approach. Before they come into the room a switch is flipped and I am bathed in hot bright lights. When my eyes adjust I see Professor Barbara and her assistant Joan Tree standing before me with Joan ominously slapping a leather flogger across her hand.

“What are you doing? You can’t do this to me” I yell. “Someone will find out!”

“Shut the fuck up Malins we can do…” Joan starts to say before Barbara cuts her off.

“Malins, you may not like it but your very short life is in our hands” Barb says almost soothingly.



I am not buying what she is selling. I tell her “You are part of this conspiracy against women!”

“Joan, would you shut her up. I was tired of hearing her during the lecture and I really fed up with her now” Barb says.

“How many can I give her” Joan asks.

“Until your arm is tired but I don’t want to see blood” Barb replies.

“Wait; what are you saying” I ask with a bit of panic creeping into my voice. I soon find out.

whip 095.gif

When Joan finishes with me I hang limp from my wrists. Instead of being put in my cell I am chained to a wall between some UVM students. The guard from earlier comes in and molests the young women on either side of me before turning his attention to me. He licks my face again and as he probes inside me says “Let’s have some fun before I put you to bed.”

chains 022.jpg

I presume he does. I certainly do not!

My cell tonight is not the same I have been incarcerated in. The best I can call it is a cage with metal doors covering the bars.

-Malins

It really is one of the UVM’s ‘hot boxes’… small metal cages with iron doors. The cages are wrapped with pipes that carry water from the boiler around the metal enclosure keeping the temperature over 105°F. Malins had hoped for the woman to put that cream on her whipped body that night. By the next morning when the iron doors are opened and the cool morning air pours in Malins groans “What do you want from me?”

cage 186.jpg

Tree
 
If the lecture wasn’t to Malins’ satisfaction what happens afterwards does not cheer her up at all. Profession Moore has the brought to the UVM’s Department of Corrections and Disciple Office where she is taken to sweltering hot subbasement where not only resides the university’s boiler that supplies the heat and hot water for the campus but the Detention and Demerit Facility. There her wrists are locked in leather cuffs to bars above her head and her ankles a similarly bound to bars holding her legs spread 2/3 of a meter apart at her ankles. One of the ‘staff’ gives her sex a rough fingering and gropes her breasts.

“You cannot do this to me” I shout. “Even falsely convicted prisoners have rights!”

“First you’re a condemned felon and I obviously can because I just did, you stupid cunt” he says as he licks my neck and ear. I spit in his face and try to knee his in the groan but the restraints barely let my knee get above his and I get the idea others have spat in his face before as he wipes it off and rubs it in my hair. He adds “Besides tonight after ‘Salt and Pepper’ are done with you I think I’ll take my turn with that ‘squeeze box’ of yours!’ My only orders are that you arrive at your cross without any visible marks. Even if you have ‘another bun in the oven’ I doubt it will be showing in a week!”

I was wondering what a ‘squeeze box’ but I look down between my breasts at my spread legs and think I know what he has in mind! Damn, these are corrupt filthy bastards. He leaves and I am left alone bound to the bars. Time passes as I sweat near the boiler before I hear the clicking of two pairs of stiletto-heeled shoes clicking on the cement floor as they approach. Before they come into the room a switch is flipped and I am bathed in hot bright lights. When my eyes adjust I see Professor Barbara and her assistant Joan Tree standing before me with Joan ominously slapping a leather flogger across her hand.

“What are you doing? You can’t do this to me” I yell. “Someone will find out!”

“Shut the fuck up Malins we can do…” Joan starts to say before Barbara cuts her off.

“Malins, you may not like it but your very short life is in our hands” Barb says almost soothingly.



I am not buying what she is selling. I tell her “You are part of this conspiracy against women!”

“Joan, would you shut her up. I was tired of hearing her during the lecture and I really fed up with her now” Barb says.

“How many can I give her” Joan asks.

“Until your arm is tired but I don’t want to see blood” Barb replies.

“Wait; what are you saying” I ask with a bit of panic creeping into my voice. I soon find out.

View attachment 433606

When Joan finishes with me I hang limp from my wrists. Instead of being put in my cell I am chained to a wall between some UVM students. The guard from earlier comes in and molests the young women on either side of me before turning his attention to me. He licks my face again and as he probes inside me says “Let’s have some fun before I put you to bed.”

View attachment 433605

I presume he does. I certainly do not!

My cell tonight is not the same I have been incarcerated in. The best I can call it is a cage with metal doors covering the bars.

-Malins

It really is one of the UVM’s ‘hot boxes’… small metal cages with iron doors. The cages are wrapped with pipes that carry water from the boiler around the metal enclosure keeping the temperature over 105°F. Malins had hoped for the woman to put that cream on her whipped body that night. By the next morning when the iron doors are opened and the cool morning air pours in Malins groans “What do you want from me?”

View attachment 433604

Tree

95ec98e4a5ecaa3553e25a6d7feb0d41.jpg I think I am becoming almost as nasty a bitch as Joan :confused:
 
Barb as a villain again! What's going on around here :confused:

Malins you make a marvelous subject, an introspective victim fearless in standing up to authority, however futile. Your suffering will be appreciated, it will not be in vain.

And they'll pool that and roll it up into not CDOs but CCOs (Collateralized Crux Obligations) and play around with their Gaussian copulas and when everything blows up they'll surely find a woman to crucify for it, maybe her :D
View attachment 433566

Gaussian copula? That sounds like what they will do to your squeeze box.

Being ignorant of matters financial I googled Blythe Masters. It's remarkable what you find out there!
Is that a cross I see behind her in the last pic?

Blythe_Masters.jpg 725_Ly9jb2ludGVsZWdyYXBoLmRlL3N0b3JhZ2U.jpg BlitheMasters-Vampirella1.jpg BlitheMasters-Vampirella3.jpg 5299660-5ED1-PL-BlytheMasters.600x400.jpg
 
I googled Blythe Masters. It's remarkable what you find out there!
Is that a cross I see behind her in the last pic?

Someone did their homework ;) The one with the cross was a bit too blatantly obvious for this thread !
And the first one captures the effect of financial WMDs, nice touch with the JP Morgan logo on the Nazi armband :devil:
Quite a few people would like to see her chained up in some cell block but that's not what she means when she's talking 'blockchains' ...
 
They set up a court but didn't even give a proper crime for me to be guilty of! :mad:
simple in our world
Oh yeah. Probably you owned a VCR for thirty years that was always blinking "12:00" in red LED?
red? not green just like its commodore-screen
What was it about the broken clock that's right twice a day?
Ooooooooooooooo, that was the one I have used some years and indeed twice in a day people said it was exact the time
 
my last one blinked green... I never figured out why manufactures were stuck on the number '12' but religious texts like 3, 7, and 'shooting craps' 7 and 11 are good... Maybe it is cult thing...

There's no religion
You made that
It's there to make your leaders' fat

-I Hunter
it was the priest in my civilization.....................thought it
 
‘Salt and Pepper’ stand outside and ‘Pepper’, Prof. Moore, says “You behaved very poorly at the lecture yesterday. So for your punishment you are to dig your own grave.”

“I can’t stop you from killing me but I will not help in anyway with my murder” I snarl.

“Wrong answer” ‘Salt’ (Joan) says to me. “Guards, take her to the whipping post.”

I am tightly bound to the post and a bit-gag is forced into my mouth and strapped to my head. Joan pulls my head back with my hair and says “You get shrill when you are whipped. The bit should solve that problem!”

She beats me with a flogger until I passed out only to revive me and does it again.

slave train 032.jpg

The second time Malins passes out Professor Moore says “That’s enough. Have her brought to the infirmary and let Ulrika attend to her.”

Ulrika gently applies the cream to the welts that criss-cross her back and rump. Malins slowly comes around and feels the pain of the vicious flogging begin to fade. Ulrika says “You cannot change what is going to happen. It would be easier on you to go along.”

“I’m not going to cave into them. They can beat me half to death every day. They will only shorten the time it takes for me to die on the cross” Malins groans.

“You don’t get it Malins. If they wanted to ‘beat you half to death’ they wouldn’t be using a flogger- they would be using a bullwhip or a cat-o-nine tails with rough-hewn lead weights. And listen Malins; if you get the idea of going on a hunger strike starting now it will shorten you time on the cross maybe a couple hours but not a day” Ulrika says.

She asks me to roll over onto my back. I do and while it hurts it is nowhere near as bad as I expected. Ulrika rubs the cream on my belly and breasts that are chaffed from rubbing against the whipping post. As her hands glide over my breasts she says “Malins, even the blood loss from the spikes isn’t what is going to kill you. It is what is under these beautiful breasts.”

“I don’t understand” I say.

“Honey, it’s your lungs. They will become congested and even a small cough much less a sneeze will wrack your shoulders and sternum making you try to avoid both but that only keeps your lungs filling with fluid. Fatigue will make it harder to take each breath only adding to the problem. Malins, I’m not telling you this scare you or to get you to accept what is going to happen to you but there is no reason to suffer before you must” Ulrika says.

“You are full of good news, Ulrika” I say as she rubs the cream on my inner thighs that are also chaffed from my gyrations against whipping post. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Um… yes, they will want you to carry your cross to the site.”

“Anything else I should know?” I gasp as she massages my clit.

“The tickets to be at your crucifixion have sold out.”

“I’ll try but it goes against everything I believe. I’ll try but can’t promise anything. Come here, Ulrika” I whisper.

les kiss gif.gif (gif)

-Malins

Tree
 
‘Salt and Pepper’ stand outside and ‘Pepper’, Prof. Moore, says “You behaved very poorly at the lecture yesterday. So for your punishment you are to dig your own grave.”

“I can’t stop you from killing me but I will not help in anyway with my murder” I snarl.

“Wrong answer” ‘Salt’ (Joan) says to me. “Guards, take her to the whipping post.”

I am tightly bound to the post and a bit-gag is forced into my mouth and strapped to my head. Joan pulls my head back with my hair and says “You get shrill when you are whipped. The bit should solve that problem!”

She beats me with a flogger until I passed out only to revive me and does it again.

View attachment 433705

The second time Malins passes out Professor Moore says “That’s enough. Have her brought to the infirmary and let Ulrika attend to her.”

Ulrika gently applies the cream to the welts that criss-cross her back and rump. Malins slowly comes around and feels the pain of the vicious flogging begin to fade. Ulrika says “You cannot change what is going to happen. It would be easier on you to go along.”

“I’m not going to cave into them. They can beat me half to death every day. They will only shorten the time it takes for me to die on the cross” Malins groans.

“You don’t get it Malins. If they wanted to ‘beat you half to death’ they wouldn’t be using a flogger- they would be using a bullwhip or a cat-o-nine tails with rough-hewn lead weights. And listen Malins; if you get the idea of going on a hunger strike starting now it will shorten you time on the cross maybe a couple hours but not a day” Ulrika says.

She asks me to roll over onto my back. I do and while it hurts it is nowhere near as bad as I expected. Ulrika rubs the cream on my belly and breasts that are chaffed from rubbing against the whipping post. As her hands glide over my breasts she says “Malins, even the blood loss from the spikes isn’t what is going to kill you. It is what is under these beautiful breasts.”

“I don’t understand” I say.

“Honey, it’s your lungs. They will become congested and even a small cough much less a sneeze will wrack your shoulders and sternum making you try to avoid both but that only keeps your lungs filling with fluid. Fatigue will make it harder to take each breath only adding to the problem. Malins, I’m not telling you this scare you or to get you to accept what is going to happen to you but there is no reason to suffer before you must” Ulrika says.

“You are full of good news, Ulrika” I say as she rubs the cream on my inner thighs that are also chaffed from my gyrations against whipping post. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Um… yes, they will want you to carry your cross to the site.”

“Anything else I should know?” I gasp as she massages my clit.

“The tickets to be at your crucifixion have sold out.”

“I’ll try but it goes against everything I believe. I’ll try but can’t promise anything. Come here, Ulrika” I whisper.

View attachment 433704 (gif)

-Malins

Tree

I do so love Ulrika :bdsm-heart:

Always there to put a happy smile on your face and to send you on your way singing a cheery tra-la-la! :)
 
Well that lecture sure didn't turn out as planned!
Of course I knew there'd be hell to pay but still. It was worth it.

The priceless moment when they wanted to cut my microphone but accidentally switched off the 'Professor' instead.

How long it took them to realize I was deliberately provoking the whippings.

When they decided to clear the hall and sent in the campus security goons to seize all the student's phones but a bunch of them had already slipped out... have fun tracking down and deleting all the video uploads!

I think I heard an exasperated 'Oh shit' a few times.

'Madame Professor' has me dragged to the sweltering, stinking bowels of this madhouse 'University'.
It's unbelievably hot and humid and reeks of fear and piss and vomit.
I retch at the vileness of it, I break out into a profuse sweat.

I twist in my bonds as one of her hired brutes fingers me.
I try to pull myself up, get my knee against him, but its hopeless. I can't do much but let it happen. I do hurl abuse at him, mostly in German as my stock of English cuss words is just too embarassingly limited. I spit at him but it doesn't faze him. I guess it's what everyone does.

Here she comes now!
That paragon of academic acheivement, the scum floating on the top of this cesspool, with her factotum in tow.
I wonder what kind of professional history it takes for someone to stoop so low as to seek a tenure position in a place like UVM... but probably she was part of the scam from day one.

'Professor' of course doesn't get her hands dirty. Her underlings do that.
It seems they're obsessed with the idea of having a presentable victim for their execution spectacle.
Probably they want it to look as if I'm going there meekly submitting to their 'sentence'.
So she wants to see no blood.
'Professor' departs up the stairs, I figure I should have spat at her instead of the brute, but well, the moment has passed. Esprit d'escalier.

I wonder why they don't just use electrodes but maybe their electrotorture unit has broken down in the humid, corrosive air of this infernal cellar. It's a very shoddy enterprise here.

So this Joan lays into me with her flogger and Gods the one talent in the world she has is endurance, and patience for dull, repetitive tasks.

No wonder. That certainly is a skill set that will make her go far at UVM.

'Until your arm is tired'. It feels like hours and hours.

In the beginning there still seems to be something like an expression on her face. An evilly grinning mask as she strikes up between my legs or lashes across my breasts. then she falls into the rhythm of an automaton as she goes over my entire body with the whip. I squirm frantically. My body is drenched in sweat, the wetness of my skin making the impact hurt so much more, and I feel like I could faint from the heat alone.
The heat is the worst.

My throat feels parched even before I scream myself hoarse and yes of course, as it goes on forever and forever, I do cry and whimper and it feels like I'm dissolving in sweat and tears and drool and snot ... but no blood, not on the outside. She does not in fact ever break my skin but it feels as if I'm turning to pulp underneath.

I lose track of time, I finally do faint, she wakes me with a cruel mockery of tenderness.
My muscles seize into violent, horrible cramps.
She steps back and laughs at the sight of me twitching, telling me I can stop dancing, she isn't even striking me... but I can't.
I guess it's going to be like this on the cross?
When the cramps finally subside, there's a deep pain that stays inside me.
I'm broken.
Even my face hurts from being distorted into that silent scream.

She leaves, not without letting me know how much she looks forward to a cold drink and a refreshing shower.

I'm limp meat to hang up after that.
It's hard to focus but I see the brute from before having his way with some girl 'students'. Inmates I'd rather say.

I wonder what's going on in their mind.

So this is University life!

Is this just some hazing ritual to go through so you'll be admitted into some inner circle? Some out-of control initiation ritual?

Some things might make sense when you look at it that way. I mean really. Yellow hats and blue noses. That blatant 'we can get away with anything' attitude.

But there's no inner circle here to enter.

Because it's all a scam, and the inner circle will always only be those few people who skim off the profits.

I realize this thing is totally scripted, totally running on autopilot.

It has absolutely nothing to do with me really.

It could be anyone. .. As long as it's a woman and she's there, that's enough!

It just runs its course.

The end of it is clear, I'll be gone.

Maybe, I think, I can make someone here realize that there is actually such a thing as me.
Not terribly important maybe, but it does exist.

I think a few of the students yesterday, they understood.

So that might be my calling, my final suicidal mission.

I'm not going to make any effect on any of the people involved in this. But who knows about others.

My head lolls about as the brute rapes me, his foul breath in my face, his revolting snaking slobbery tongue everywhere,forcing into my mouth; I try to bite down on him but I can hardly move my jaw, it's numbed from the rictus of pain my face went into during my seizure. I imagine myself butting him with my head or anything but I cannot turn the thought into an actual movement. His hands grope and squeeze and slap my sweat-drenched body,

Finally they dump me into a small iron cage. It's hard to imagine but it seems even hotter than before.

I am raw and ruined.

I am bruised, I am used.

I am tired, I am weary! And I could sleep a thousand years.

But I find not one moment in the confines of the cage.
I'm burning under my unbroken skin, it's so hot and humid that no amount of perspiration helps. I can't find any position to relax in. The cramps set in again. My heart feels like it's capsizing and kicking wildly and my breathing goes ragged in this hellish oven. I piss myself, it's without pain but a dark red color, well I guess a bit of rhabdomyolysis going on there. Finally I fall more into unconsciousness than sleep and when they wake me banging aginst the bars of the cage I'm confused as to my whereabouts, no idea of where I am and what's happened, I was so deep in blissful black nothingness and would have wanted to stay there, I wonder who's disturbing me so I mumble 'What do you want from me?' ... meaning mostly 'couldn't you just let me sleep in a bit'.

Because once I'm awake of course I know what they want from me.

Nothing actually - nothing that's actually me.

It's just their game, and it has occurred that I have blundered into it. The only way out is forward and through, and then it's over.
 
Last edited:
Well that lecture sure didn't turn out as planned!
Of course I knew there'd be hell to pay but still. It was worth it.

The priceless moment when they wanted to cut my microphone but accidentally switched of the 'Professor' instead.

How long it took them to realize I was deliberately provoking the whippings.

When they decided to clear the hall and sent in the campus security goons to seize all the student's phones but a bunch of them had already slipped out... have fun tracking down and deleting all the video uploads!

I think I heard an exasperated 'Oh shit' a few times.

'Madame Professor' has me dragged to the sweltering, stinking bowels of this madhouse 'University'.
It's unbelievably hot and humid and reeks of fear and piss and vomit.
I retch at the vileness of it, I break out into a profuse sweat.

I twist in my bonds as one of her hired brutes fingers me.
I try to pull myself up, get my knee against him, but its hopeless. I can't do much but let it happen. I do hurl abuse at him, mostly in German as my stock of English cuss words is just too embarassingly limited. I spit at him but it doesn't faze him. I guess it's what everyone does.

Here she comes now!
That paragon of academic acheivement, the scum floating on the top of this cesspool, with her factotum in tow.
I wonder what kind of professional history it takes for someone to stoop so low as to seek a tenure position in a place like UVM... but probably she was part of the scam from day one.

'Professor' of course doesn't get her hands dirty. Her underlings do that.
It seems they're obsessed with the idea of having a presentable victim for their execution spectacle.
Probably they want it to look as if I'm going there meekly submitting to their 'sentence'.
So she wants to see no blood.
'Professor' departs up the stairs, I figure I should have spat at her instead of the brute, but well, the moment has passed. Esprit d'escalier.

I wonder why they don't just use electrodes but maybe their electrotorture unit has broken down in the humid, corrosive air of this infernal cellar. It's a very shoddy enterprise here.

So this Joan lays into me with her flogger and Gods the one talent in the world she has is endurance, and patience for dull, repetitive tasks.

No wonder. That certainly is a skill set that will make her go far at UVM.

'Until your arm is tired'. It feels like hours and hours.

In the beginning there still seems to be something like an expression on her face. An evilly grinning mask as she strikes up between my legs or lashes across my breasts. then she falls into the rhythm of an automaton as she goes over my entire body with the whip. I squirm frantically. My body is drenched in sweat, the wetness of my skin making the impact hurt so much more, and I feel like I could faint from the heat alone.
The heat is the worst.

My throat feels parched even before I scream myself hoarse and yes of course, as it goes on forever and forever, I do cry and whimper and it feels like I'm dissolving in sweat and tears and drool and snot ... but no blood, not on the outside. She does not in fact ever break my skin but it feels as if I'm turning to pulp underneath.

I lose track of time, I finally do faint, she wakes me with a cruel mockery of tenderness.
My muscles seize into violent, horrible cramps.
She steps back and laughs at the sight of me twitching, telling me I can stop dancing, she isn't even striking me... but I can't.
I guess it's going to be like this on the cross?
When the cramps finally subside, there's a deep pain that stays inside me.
I'm broken.
Even my face hurts from being distorted into that silent scream.

She leaves, not without letting me know how much she looks forward to a cold drink and a refreshing shower.

I'm limp meat to hang up after that.
It's hard to focus but I see the brute from before having his way with some girl 'students'. Inmates I'd rather say.

I wonder what's going on in their mind.

So this is University life!

Is this just some hazing ritual to go through so you'll be admitted into some inner circle? Some out-of control initiation ritual?

Some things might make sense when you look at it that way. I mean really. Yellow hats and blue noses. That blatant 'we can get away with anything' attitude.

But there's no inner circle here to enter.

Because it's all a scam, and the inner circle will always only be those few people who skim off the profits.

I realize this thing is totally scripted, totally running on autopilot.

It has absolutely nothing to do with me really.

It could be anyone. .. As long as it's a woman and she's there, that's enough!

It just runs its course.

The end of it is clear, I'll be gone.

Maybe, I think, I can make someone here realize that there is actually such a thing as me.
Not terribly important maybe, but it does exist.

I think a few of the students yesterday, they understood.

So that might be my calling, my final suicidal mission.

I'm not going to make any effect on any of the people involved in this. But who knows about others.

My head lolls about as the brute rapes me, his foul breath in my face, his revolting snaking slobbery tongue everywhere,forcing into my mouth; I try to bite down on him but I can hardly move my jaw, it's numbed from the rictus of pain my face went into during my seizure. I imagine myself butting him with my head or anything but I cannot turn the thought into an actual movement. His hands grope and squeeze and slap my sweat-drenched body,

Finally they dump me into a small iron cage. It's hard to imagine but it seems even hotter than before.

I am raw and ruined.

I am bruised, I am used.

I am tired, I am weary! And I could sleep a thousand years.

But I find not one moment in the confines of the cage.
I'm burning under my unbroken skin, it's so hot and humid that no amount of perspiration helps. I can't find any position to relax in. The cramps set in again. My heart feels like it's capsizing and kicking wildly and my breathing goes ragged in this hellish oven. I piss myself, it's without pain but a dark red color, well I guess a bit of rhabdomyolysis going on there. Finally I fall more into unconsciousness than sleep and when they wake me banging aginst the bars of the cage I'm confused as to my whereabouts, no idea of where I am and what's happened, I was so deep in blissful black nothingness and would have wanted to stay there, I wonder who's disturbing me so I mumble 'What do you want from me?' ... meaning mostly 'couldn't you just let me sleep in a bit'.

Because once I'm awake of course I know what they want from me.

Nothing actually - nothing that's actually me.

It's just their game, and it has occurred that I have blundered into it. The only way out is forward and through, and then it's over.
:very_hot::beer::clapping:
Well done Malins especially since you had no preview of this! I would feel sorry for you but you are the one that wanted a titulus... there is 'baggage' that comes with that...

Sorry,

Tree
 
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