Chapter 37: Red

Chapter Summary:

sometimes things break...

Notes:

I warned readers at the end of the last chapter that this one would be rough.
For those of you who are familiar with this lifestyle, you'll recognize that this could be much, much worse... But for those of you who are new to this sort of thing, this might be upsetting, initially. The truth of the matter is, it happens.

*TRIGGER WARNINGS*
Rough Sex, Erotic Beating, Punishment, Humiliation

It turns out that Zoe has many talents, among them the ability to open doors. We find this out one weekend when Alex is at her dad's.

Bellamy has just finished eating me out and I'm recovering from my second mind-blowing orgasm in a ten minute span. All of a sudden, I feel the mattress dip with unexpected extra weight and Bellamy yells out in surprise as Zoe leaps up onto the bed, clearly wanting to get in on whatever fun is being had. She licks my face excitedly and I shriek with laughter as Bellamy groans amusedly.

He gets up, calling Zoe out the door and closing it behind her. He starts walking back toward me and I see the handle of the door raise of its own accord. The door immediately flies open and Zoe comes bounding back in, beating Bellamy back to the bed and licking my face again.

Bellamy scoffs, "What the ever living fuck!?"

I'm still laughing at this point, "Oh my god, Bellamy, she can open doors! Look – the handles are flat, so she just has to push up with her nose."

He shakes his head, "That's it. We're going to Home Depot and replacing every single door handle with round knobs…" He laughs, "Since I'm still dressed, I'll take care of the dog." He looks at me sternly. "Stay here and don't move."

He leaves the room with Zoe and comes back about five minutes later.

"What did you do with her?"

He smiles as he multitasks, divesting himself of his remaining items of clothing. "I filled her Kong toy with peanut butter and let her out in the backyard to play with it. It'll keep her occupied for a while. It's a surprisingly nice day out, so she'll be fine."

"Is there water out there for her?"

"Of course. I checked." He pushes me back onto the bed, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot on my neck, then gently nipping my earlobe. He whispers into my skin, "Now let's get back to this…"

I groan and pull his face around, bringing his lips to mine. Then, he's kissing me so deeply, I've forgotten how to breathe – It's entirely possible that the oxygen around me has just disappeared. He finally lets me come up for air and I'm overcome by a need to be dominated… used… manhandled…

My voice is breathless when I beg him, "Please Bellamy… Fuck me… Like I'm a goddamn toy."

Without missing a beat, he twists my hair around his fist, yanking it down so my neck is bent to the side, my ear violently thrust into my shoulder. This man knows how to bend me, twist me just right so that I'm completely helpless in his hands. It may seem like his handling of me is impulsive and reckless at first glance, but he's so well-practiced in rough play that I feel no pain or injury when he yanks my head around by my hair. No, it doesn't hurt… On the contrary – It feels fucking incredible…

I growls into my neck, his voice graveled and unsettling… "You want it rough, Princess?"

I cry out when he nips my collar bone, "Y-yes, oh god... use me… Throw me around…"

He huffs and shakes his head, "Safe words?"

I cough a laugh, "Red to stop, Yellow to slow down…" Then my voice takes on an irritated growl, "And I'm telling you right now, Cherries, goddammit!"

His laugh is menacing when he lets go of my hair and picks me up just enough to spin me around so he can shove me face-first into the mattress. I release a surprised but appreciative groan as I barely manage to break my fall with my forearms. I feel him slap my ass hard. There was absolutely no holding back on his part, and the residual sting is radiating deliciously from the point of impact.

"Fuck! Thank you, Sir…"

He laughs dismissively, "We'll see how long you'll be thanking me, Princess…"

A shiver violently shoots through my body, a glaring indication of the panic that almost overcomes me. I remind myself that he won't truly harm me and the panic quickly transforms into excitement.

Bellamy digs his fingers into the flesh of my hips and with a bruising grip, he yanks them up so I'm in knees-and-shoulders position, presenting my pussy to him just how he likes. He shoves two fingers into my cunt, and I can hear how utterly soaked I am. Then, he abruptly removes his fingers and immediately plunges his cock deep into me. I cry out, gratified, "Oh, fuck… Yes!" He pulls out to the tip, then snaps his hips brutally back into me, his cock reaching impossible depths inside of my pussy…

He fists my hair again and yanks me up to a kneeling position in front of him, his cock still buried inside of me, growling against my neck "You're a kinky little slut, aren't you?" I nod frantically, wordlessly confirming his appraisal. He chuckles, "You want me to fuck you like my gorgeous little fuck toy, huh?"

I'm pretty sure my wanton groan is bordering on obscene, "F-fuck y-yes… Fuck toy… I'm your fuck toy…"

Bellamy thrusts into me, rough and hard and brutal, at a pace that has me coming apart at the seams dangerously fast. He's growling as my walls start to flutter around him. "Oh, god, I'm gonna—"

He cuts me off, "The hell you are! Don't even think about it, Princess." I shudder at the harshness of his voice, unbelievably turned on by his ruthlessness… It's so not helping my self-control, and my orgasm is threatening to take over at full force. That's the thing about orgasms – it's easy to fake having one, but nearly impossible to hide when it takes me over… Thankfully, he lets up on the pounding before I tumble over the edge.

Bellamy takes hold of both my arms and secures them behind my back, forcefully guiding my hands to grasp my forearms. Then he pushes me forward again, this time keeping hold of my arms. Using one large hand to keep my arms locked together, he uses his free hand to shove my face into the mattress while he resumes fucking me, thrusting into me with delicious abandon. With each thrust of Bellamy's hips, my nipples are treated to a robust friction against the sheets, and I can't help but think that maybe this would be even more stimulating if we were on the rug. I file that thought away for next time…

Suddenly, he pulls his cock out of me and moves his hand away from my head, though he keeps my arms locked behind me. "Keep your arms just like this, understand?"

I nod in acknowledgement. Then he flips me over onto my back. My arms pinned underneath me cause my chest to be thrust out dramatically, which I'm sure was his intention. Bellamy begins plucking painfully at my nipples with one hand while the other hand softly and gently parts the folds of my pussy. The stark contrast between his treatments of these two powerful erogenous zones is startling, eliciting a series of grateful cries from me. He keeps running his mouth, which is doing sinful things to my body. "Does my little fuck toy like it when I do this?" My answering nods and groans are furious and greedy.

Bellamy lowers his head to mine and captures my lips in a devastating kiss while he maneuvers my legs how he wants them. He hooks his hands under my bent knees and pushes them up so that they're pointing toward my armpits. He anchors his fists into the bed at the crook of my bent knees, so his arms effectively act like stakes, keeping my legs arranged to his liking and spread completely open for him. At some point he managed to sink his cock back into me, and he's gazing hungrily at the point where his cock is disappearing into my cunt.

"Fuck, Princess… Look at you, all spread out on my cock, waiting for me to fuck you senseless… Your tits thrust out in front of you, just begging for attention…" I roll my hips in a wide circle, trying to prompt him into movement, but my attempts are in vain. He keeps himself buried to the hilt inside of me, pulling out only slightly before thrusting back in. He teases me this way a few times until I'm begging him to move.

Finally, Bellamy starts furiously pounding into me again. "Goddammit, you're so fucking tight around me…" He keeps going, "Fuck, your tits are incredible when they bounce like this... It's like your body was MADE to be fucked like this." I'm writhing in delight, and my orgasm starts to build, the pressure coiling in the pit of my abdomen… He can feel it, too. "Not yet, Princess. Don't come yet!" As hard as I try to obey, it's too much… He angrily yells out, "I said don't—" But before he can finish his sentence, my climax comes, brutally ripping through me as I scream out in ecstasy. He continues to fuck me through my orgasm, but is clearly not pleased by my disobedience. Once my body stops writhing underneath him, he stops moving and pulls out, "You just couldn't listen, could you?"

I shake my head as he flips me back onto my stomach. I feel Bellamy smack my ass with severe force. "Now I have to delay my own release so I can punish you." (I almost want to laugh at the feigned annoyance in his voice, like he's trying to pretend that punishing me isn't a source of pleasure for him that rivals actual fucking). I groan again in anticipation of whatever punishment he may have in store for me. He stands up at the bedside and yanks me by the ankles to the far edge of the bed, dragging me on my stomach as my arms fly out and my fingers instinctively attempt to find purchase in the sheets. My legs fall over the side of the mattress and as my feet reach the floor, Bellamy pulls me upright by my hair.

He breaks character for a second to ask, "You still good?"

I nod with a smile, "Oh yeah, I'm good."

He nods again and we are both instantly back in character.

Hands still fisted in my now-tangled blonde locks, he leads me over to face the mirrored wall. "Stay here." I nod, obediently facing the wall as I watch him through the mirror while he riffles through his bedside table, then disappears into the closet briefly. He comes back to my side with two cups in hand. "You get twelve lashes with the belt for disobedience." I nod – twelve is certainly do-able. Almost too easy, really. It'll be unpleasant, but it's not exactly a stretch for me. I look pointedly at the items in his hands. He chuckles, "Oh, I almost forgot… Silly me… You're going press this coin to the mirror with your nose, and you will keep it there during your entire punishment." My brows are furrowed as I wait for him to continue. "You're probably wanting to know what happens if you fail." He snickers when he sees me cringe at the word fail. "Well, if you fail to keep the coin on the wall, your punishment doubles." Twenty-four lashes with the belt – now that could be a challenge. He snorts, "Oh, and you're going to stay on tiptoes, and your arms are to remain held straight out in a "T" shape while you're holding these little cups of sand on your flat and open palms." He presents some tiny little paper cups that are filled with colorful sand, probably collected from Alex's play set at some point. He whispers in my ear, "Do you wanna guess what happens if you spill the sand?"

I take a deep breath before I answer, "My lashes double?"

His laugh is downright sinister, "Fuck yes, they do. Now if you drop the coin and spill sand, you're looking at quadruple lashes." He gives me some time to opt out of this, to call my safe word, but there's no way I'm backing down from this challenge.

After taking a deep breath, I respond, "Cherries, Sir."

He smacks my ass for good measure, "Good girl."

He sets the sand cups on the floor by my feet and walks over to retrieve his belt. As he rips the belt out of the belt loops on his jeans that were in a heap on the floor by the bed, I get into position, holding my hands out to the side. He drops the belt to the floor by our feet, then picks up the cups of sand and places them in the flattened palms of my outstretched hands. Then I get onto tiptoes and he places the coin on the mirror, gently pushing my face forward so can hold it in place with my nose. Satisfied with my positioning, he steps away and picks the belt up from the floor. He doubles it over and does that thing where he snaps the two strips together to make a jarring SLAP sound. I flinch slightly at the noise but the sand and coin remain in place. He lets the belt fall back into single-thickness as he wraps the buckle-end of it around his hand. He catches my eye as he raises his arm up and I give him a miniscule nod (can't lose the coin).

He brings the belt down with powerful force, landing the blow on the fleshy area of my ass with a thundering CRACK! I release an enthusiastic shriek but my coin and sand cups remain firmly in place. As he lands the next ten blows, I feel a sense of smug relief, knowing I have just one more to go before I'm done. I realize too late my arrogance is a mistake. Hubris dooms me as my attention falters and my left hand loses control of the sand. In a vain attempt to catch the cup before it tumbles to the floor, I come off my tip toes and the coin drops, bouncing across the floor to poetically to land in the new pile of sand.

Bellamy chuckles menacingly, shaking his head with a wicked smile, "Oh, Princess… Oops?"

I let the other sand cup fall to the floor and drop my forehead to the mirror, unable to hide my disappointment in myself, "Fuck…"

Bellamy laughs again, "After this, Princess. You have to finish your punishment, then we'll fuck."

I brace myself against the wall, readying myself to endure the remaining thirty-seven blows. I feel my face pale as I consider that number… thirty-seven… I nod for him to continue and he raises his arm back up. "Count them out, Princess."

He lands the next one, "Twelve, Sir."

Another, "Thirteen, Sir."

Another, "Fourteen, Sir."

Another, "Fifteen, Sir"

He continues to belt me as I dutifully count them out. By number twenty, I am in tears but I continue to bear each lash. By thirty-two, the pain is severe enough that I'm starting to consider calling it, unsure that I can withstand sixteen more blows. When I get to thirty-eight my whole body is trembling and I can no longer verbalize the actual number. I'm in uncontrollable tears when I call out, "RED!" He lands another blow and I scream,

"NO! BELLAMY, PLEASE STOP! RED!"

I fall to a crying, shaking heap on the floor as Bellamy drops everything and catches me as I land. He's holding me in his arms, rocking me side to side as I'm sobbing my apologies, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry!" I keep frantically repeating my apology, barely able to hear Bellamy reassuring me that it's okay. I faintly him telling me that I have no reason to be sorry. "Clarke, baby… You never have to apologize for calling your safe word." I'm still rocking back and forth, shaking my head and repeating my litany of apologies. It isn't until I feel Bellamy's tears on my shoulder that I snap out of it and my arms fly around his neck. Now I break down again, but for a new reason – I'm suddenly terrified that I broke Bellamy.

With tears in my eyes, I bring my hand back to cup his cheek but he won't budge to let me see his face, "Bell? What's wrong?" He has his face buried in my neck while we cling to each other for dear life. I'm overcome by tears again, "Oh my god, Bellamy, what's wrong?!" I shake him, "PLEASE Talk to me!" He shudders but finally lifts his head up. Tears are streaming down his face as he searches my eyes, bringing his hands up to cup my face. I ask again, "Bellamy, please, talk to me!"

I pivot in his arms to face him and he drops his forehead to mine, "Clarke, I fucked up. I fucked up..." His tears are still coming fast and strong.

I shake my head frantically, "NO, Bell you didn't. You DIDN'T fuck up!" I cup his face in my hands and push his head back so I can look him in the eye as I reassure him. "Bellamy listen to me! You did exactly what you were supposed to do. I called Red and you stopped, okay?"

He shakes his head, biting his lip as he closes his eyes again, "But what if I hadn't stopped?! Clarke, I almost didn't!" His voice falters to a broken whisper as he drops his forehead back to mine, "I almost didn't stop, Clarke."

I stroke his cheeks, "But you did, Bellamy. You stopped." He keeps shaking his head, his body trembling. I keep caressing his face, raking my fingers through his hair. "Bell, you stopped... Say it for me, Bellamy. You stopped."

He takes a deep shaking breath, "I stopped."

I nod, "Good. Say it again."

"I stopped…"

[BELLAMY POV]

She may be okay now, but my mind won't let go of that terrifying image of Clarke, cowering in fear, begging for me to stop... She keeps reminding me that I did stop, making me repeat it like a mantra.

"I stopped… I stopped…"

I'm the one that fucked up here. I'm supposed to be comforting her, not the other way around. I pull her into me, cradling her in my arms again. "Clarke, I'm so fucking sorry."

She wraps her arms around my torso, tightening her embrace, "Bellamy, it happened. We reached a limit. It was bound to happen."

I shake my head, "I went too far."

She crushes her arms around me, "NO, you didn't. I called it before it went too far."

"I shouldn't have pushed you to go for 48 lashes. It was too much. I should have known that."

"Listen to me, Bell. Please. You stopped when I asked you to."

"What if you had been in subspace? You wouldn't have called it and you know it."

She shrugs, "I don't know, I think maybe deep down, I knew 48 was pushing it. I can tell you now, I wasn't slipping into subspace at all. Okay? Maybe my subconscious knew better than to let its guard down."

This is what I fear the most – That I won't be able to control the beast inside of me when I'm delivering pain to Clarke. I get too into it and bad things happen.

We sit in contemplative silence for a while, as I continue hanging onto her like my lifeline. This is the definition of a broken scene, and it kills me that it happened with Clarke. She's right – it's something that's bound to happen. I just hate that it did.

She eventually breaks the silence with a soft voice, "Talk to me, Bell."

I take a deep breath, "I don't know what to say, Clarke. I don't know how to make this right."

She leans into me, "For starters, how about you accept that it's not wrong." I'm about to interrupt her, but she somehow knows what I'm going to say, so she continues. "You're perseverating on the 'what ifs' right now. Hyper-focusing on something that didn't happen." I sigh, not refuting her words. She keeps speaking, "I'm not telling you to forget about it. I don't want to diminish what you're feeling. I'm just saying, the worst case scenario didn't happen. The safeguards we placed worked."

I nod, "You're right. I know that. I'm just kind of reeling inside right now."

She touches my chin and meets my gaze, "Reeling about what?"

I shrug, "Like you said, I can't stop thinking about how it could have gone wrong."

Clarke nods, "I know…" After a few minutes, she speaks again with a kind smile. "I have an idea. I'll tell you about what I liked. Do you want to hear about that?"

I nod. "Yeah, let's talk about the good parts."

She grins, "I absolutely loved everything leading up to the punishment."

I smirk, "Yeah? Be specific..."

She closes her eyes with a gentle smile, "Well, the hair pulling and throwing me around. You're so good at manhandling me, babe."

My fingers are absentmindedly stroking her skin, "Is that right?"

She nods with a laugh, "Oh yeah. You know just how to throw me around… I'm never worried that you'll injure me because you do it so… perfectly. And it drives me absolutely crazy when you shove my face into the mattress. I have no idea why, but I love it..."

I nod, "What else did you like?" She's right. This is helping to calm my head down.

She tilts her head, "Hmmm… I love when you start sounding all ruthless and scary. Like, when your laugh takes on a menacing quality, I know you're as into it as I am. It's really hot." She pauses a moment before continuing. "Oh, and that last position you were fucking me in? I liked that."

I chuckle, "Me too."

She grins, "Tell me what you liked about it."

"I meant every word I said while I was fucking you. It's like your body is made for it – your tits were front and center, thanks to your arms, which were pinned underneath you… And it gives me a prime view of your cunt taking my cock."

She giggles, "Yeah, you do have a thing for that – cunts and cocks."

I shrug, "I like to see your cunt taking my cock."

Her facial expression is pumped with pride, "Well, you do have exclusive access…"

After a few more minutes of quiet reflection she adds, "By the way, that predicament was ingenious. I liked the challenge it gave me. Just, next time, maybe not quadruple lashings."

"Yeah, I should've thought that one through."

She squeezes my arms, "Can we agree that despite having to call the safe word, everything else went right?"

I nod, "Yeah. We can agree on that. It's just going to take me some time to… trust myself not to go too far."

She nods, leaning into me again. "Take all the time you need. I'll still be here."

We tighten our embrace, "Thank you, Clarke."

She starts stroking her fingers up and down my spine, "Thank you, Bell."

After a few more minutes, we disentangle ourselves and get up off the floor. She fetches some Gatorade and we sip it down, replenishing the electrolytes that we've both probably lost via literal sweat and tears...

I feel Clarke step behind me, wrapping her arms around my arms, closing her hands over my shoulders. She presses an open mouth kiss between my shoulder blades, sending a shiver down my spine. I hold on to her right hand, pulling it to my lips and pressing a kiss to it before I pull her around in front of me. She wraps her arms around my waist and I cup her face in my hands, and when she gazes into my eyes I'm enveloped by the love she has for me.

"Kiss me, Bellamy."

I drop my face down, hovering my lips over hers, letting the anticipation build before brushing our lips lightly together. I revel in the sigh that escapes Clarke when I finally deepen the kiss, and it doesn't take long for passion to overtake us. I walk her backward toward the bed as I feast on her mouth, licking deeply into her as our tongues tangle with enthusiasm.

A jolt of arousal surges through me when Clarke flutters her fingers around my cock, lightly grazing it. She smiles against my lips when my hips surge into her hands of their own volition. It takes virtually no time at all for Clarke to get me painfully hard again.

"Fuck… That feels good, Clarke." She moans something that sounds like good as I guide her to lay back on the mattress again. She breaks the kiss so she can crawl backwards and lay her head on the pillows. She crooks her finger in a come-hither motion, her face a picture of wanton desire. As I make my way up to her, I take time to appreciate and relish the body she so trustingly gives to me, grateful she will still allow me to enjoy her. I lay wet kisses up her legs, pausing at her most sensitive spots – the surprisingly responsive spot on her inner left thigh, just a few inches above her knee… Licking into the hollow of her hip… Dipping my tongue just briefly into her cunt as I make my way up the rest of her body. As I get closer to her face, my mouth becomes increasingly ravenous, savoring the way she arches her back off the bed to chase my touch.

I can't control my need for her. "God, Clarke… I love you so fucking much."

She moans, "I fucking love you, Bell… Please… I need you inside of me!"

"Turn over, I'm gonna make you feel good."

With a grin she turns over onto her stomach, spreading her legs slightly. I crawl in between them, but make no moves to enter her, choosing instead to explore her back, leaving wet, biting kisses down her spine, moving off-center when I reach her waist so that I can lave my tongue over the sensitive skin of her ass, soothing it with gentle strokes (making a mental note to go back later and apply arnica and skin salve). Dipping my fingers between her legs, my head is dizzy with want when I feel the copious amount of wetness gathered there. I drive myself mad when I plunge two fingers into her cunt, massaging her inner walls, counting down the seconds until I can feel my cock in there instead…

I gently lift her hips up off the bed, allowing her to relax her head into the mattress while I maneuver her legs so that her knees are just outside of my own, then stretching her wide open by widening the distance between my own knees. I line my cock up to her dripping entrance, gathering the fluids on the tip, eliciting wanton moans from both of us each time the my tip rubs against her clit. She cries out as I push myself into her, delighting in the slick tightness of her cunt around me. Once I'm buried to the hilt, my mind is lost in a hurricane of desire and need. She pushes herself up on her elbows, her head still dropped against the mattress, and I can't resist tasting the nape of her neck as it's so beautifully presented to me in this position. As I start to fall forward, I anchor my hand in the mattress by her elbow, wrapping my right arm underneath her torso and relishing the heaviness of her left breast in my palm. I tighten my embrace, pulling her up as she rises to her palms and pushes herself against me. I pull out, nearly to the tip, before plunging back into her as she thrusts her hips against mine. "Touch yourself, Clarke…" We continue pleasuring each other in this position, meeting each other thrust for thrust until I feel both of us coming close to climax.

Not ready for this to be over yet, I switch it up. Gripping her hips, I still her movements. With my cock still buried inside of her, I rearrange our legs so that my knees are our now outside of hers. The noises coming out of this woman make it immensely difficult to control myself… Holding her hips tight against mine, I sit back on my heels, then continue rolling back until my legs are in front of me. She's positioned now so she's on sitting on her knees, my thighs situated so they're locked between her ankles and her thighs, so she's seated in the cradle of my hips. I anchor one hand behind me, while the other grips onto her hips, guiding them in a rocking and rolling motion while I thrust gently up into her. Her own hands busy themselves, caressing her tits, occasionally tangling themselves in her wild blonde curls as she refines the rhythm of her hip movements.

Once she's perfected her movements, I reach around and stimulate her clit. As I roll the sensitive bundle of nerves between my fingers, she's nearly screaming in pleasure and within minutes I can feel the fluttering of her walls around my aching cock. I groan into her shoulder, "Come on, Clarke… Let go… Come for me…" She nods furiously as she reaches a hand behind her, tangling her fingers in my hair and pulling painfully. Her grip in my hair tightens as she comes undone in my lap, the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls pulling me into my own climax, white heat building in the base of my spine as my thrusts take on an erratic rhythm and I spill everything I have inside of her.

She collapses against me, falling back into my chest as the fingers in my hair relax and fall away limp. After a few moments, I allow myself to relax into the mattress as she straightens her legs out in front of her, then I roll us both to the side in a spooning position. We relax there, still joined, legs tangled together as our breathing and heart rates return to normal…

Luckily, I don't have to reach far to obtain the salve I need to massage into the raw skin of her ass… She moans gratefully as I gently knead her flesh with my fingers.

"Thank you, Bellamy…."

I kiss her shoulder, "Thank you, Clarke." After a few moments' pause, I add, "For everything…"

I don't know that I would have recovered so well from that broken scene without her unending love and support. Tonight was a learning experience, and it could have been worse. Clarke helped me to see what went right, guiding me to reconcile the bad with the good. If Clarke and I hadn't recovered from tonight's scene the way we did, I don't doubt I would have had to step away from at least the S&M aspect of our activities while I resolved the trust issues I had with myself. Last time this happened, it took me over a year to recover. With Clarke's care, I'm seeing that perhaps it wasn't completely broken to begin with.

Clarke helped me to resolve everything before I lost faith. She unknowingly fixed me before I broke completely... There's no fucking way I can lose her.

End Chapter Notes:

A broken scene, if not handled with care, can end relationships and even drive people away from the lifestyle. It's yet another way that aftercare is vital for healthy BDSM practice.

Hopefully, the chapter ended with some resolution for anyone who may have been upset by how their scene broke. I couldn't just leave this sort of thing with a cliffhanger. It is important for participants to at least try and move toward resolution after a broken scene, so I didn't feel like it would be appropriate to prolong the angst for another chapter...

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