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Brooke_ray
New member
Username: Brooke_ray
Post Number: 26
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Friday, April 28, 2006 - 10:05 am: | 
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Running Away
Pt. 1
***
“Baby, wake up!” A hiss of urgent whisper in the otherwise silent room…
“C’mon baby…we gotta go…we gotta get outta here!”
“UUUggghhh…..” From somewhere deep, deep down in the well of her throat, came her eloquent reply. Then she added a semi-conscious mumble, “I was dreaming about those little fishies in the tank at Petsmart…You know those little fishiess?…The pretty ones with the silver tails? Baby, will you buy me a silver, little fishy?”
Laughter in the darkness…Then a “Psssst!”. Then a rough shake….then hot, hot breath staggered in her ear.
“Get up, princess….c’mon…we gotta get the hell out here right now! Get up and get your stuff….the midnight oil is burnin’!”
The midnight what? Groan and Grumble…Oh God…not again….
“Owwww!” The howl whined from her throat because of the sting the slap of his hand to her bottom summoned. With stunning reluctance, her eyelids popped open. His nose was touching hers….so close…and his eyes were positively wild……
“Now! Lets go!!”
The digital numbers were an arm’s length away. As she watched, they magically gelled into three in the a.m…..Three in the a.m……and they had to go…..
A small light was burning somewhere in a pocket of corner…… She allowed her vision to do a sluggish tour of the room and was not at all surprised to see his bureau drawers hanging open….assorted socks and loose ends protruding in a messy unraveling of usually neat contents.
Still not quite awake enough to move, to make the shift from horizontal to vertical…..she lay there in her sanctuary of warm sheets and from somewhere in the shadows she could hear him breathing.
Suddenly, his voice thundered, “Pack a bag and let’s go!!”
The echo of its rumble broke her sleep induced paralysis and she shot up from the twist of sheets and stumbled over to the closet in search of the first piece of luggage she could wrap a fist around. Then she was grabbing a couple of pairs of slacks off the hangers from the shadows……a shirt ….lumbering over to the dresser…digging for underwear in the darkness…
Crack!
“Owww!!”
His hand on her cotton, sunflowered bottom yet again…in the weak light she saw his reflection flicker by in the mirror.
“Kick it in gear darlin’! We have to leave right now!”
His eyes, excited sparks of restless indigo, dancing with danger and somewhere beneath it all…humor….dark, dark humor……and adventure….fun was to be had…..the game was afoot…..
She grabbed at an anonymous wad of lace and flimsy, shoved it into the unzipped mouth of the bag. Then, on a burst of impulsive melodrama, she brushed most of the contents littering the top of the dresser into the bag as well, with one, sweeping stroke of her hand. From somewhere behind her, she heard his chuckle of approval.
She felt her own humor ignite.
“Lets go!” She hissed getting into the act. “I think I hear something outside!” She could see him from his cubby hole of walk-in closet on the other side of the room. “What was that noise?” She squeaked, “I hear somethin’ for sure now.”
“Okay.” He whispered back, “Don’t turn on any lights…..C’mon…”
He grabbed her rudely packed bag from the unmade bed, as she danced around the room, forcing her body into a pair of stretch jeans…Hair up in a disheveled pony, Hard Rock T-shirt she’d slept in still covering her chest……sleep still in her eyes…..
Their silhouettes tiptoed across the tile, then onto the carpet of the stairs. As they descended, she felt goose bumps pop out all over her body, as the thrill arrived, the flame of it igniting, then spreading throughout on the river of adrenalin.
In the shadows, she felt him take her hand as they slipped out the back door……staying close to the side of the house, as they made their retreat. The grass was damp beneath their booted feet, the crickets conveniently obnoxious this night, covering the sound of their stealthy steps. There was a fog hovering so thick, it looked as if it might be a good substance in which to stuff pillows. Drifting thick, shielding them from invisible eyes that might possibly be lurking beneath the cover of night……By the time they reached the car they were both out of breath…….
They popped open their doors and jumped in,in unplanned unison. Her bag settled in her lap, as he slung his into the backseat.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” A restless chant rattled past her lips.
“It’s alright darlin, we’re goin’.”
Minutes later, they were on a stretch of endless, open road. And both expelled a sigh of relief, as he flipped on the radio. They let the music, as well as the night draw them in…wondering where it would take them….with no purpose, except too be gone….They were running away……destination unknown…… Wild, their imaginations feral ….For they had gypsy feet and even though the life they lived kept the moss from growing, sometimes even the most unstable of times proved too stable, sometimes tap dancing on the verge of becoming stagnant….Sometimes they craved to breathe a breath of wild, untamed air…
And he knew just what to do…..she just never knew when he would do it…..Pull this type of spontaneous getaway, so that they were marauders of the night. Dramatic? Yes!…..Boring?….never……..
A full tank of gas and a bag stuffed with clothes…a wad of bills….driving fast…..Lethal adrenalin causing her to be fully awake now…..She would smile at him and watch his profile from her side of the car…..and sometimes, she felt a little like Bonnie….as in Bonnie and Clyde… Not that Bonnie and Clyde were good people, mind you…..but damn, they sure had passion….and their life was never boring…..
As the tired rotated and the miles tallied they planned and they plotted……….
“Let’s drive all night, baby! All night until we come to a place we’ve never been before….To a town we’ve never heard the name of…a town we can’t even pronounce the name of!” In the weak light of the car her eyes flashed with impulsive lightening as she schemed, “It’s best if it’s a small town….a creepy lookin’ town with a gas station with those old style pumps and a Shell sign that creaks on the wind…Lets find a motel and give fake names…Make them up before we get there….Who do you want to be, baby?” A pause to simper her mouth and show a sin filled smile. “Who do you want to be tonight?”
And he replied…..
“Let’s find one of those row house motels…..the kind that’s a bit shady looking….let’s pretend that we have to pull over now because its not long till sunrise and we can’t risk being tracked in the daylight. Sleeping our days away and roaming free in the night? Hiding from the rays of sun…just for a few days? Let’s be renegades. Let’s get a room….some trashy four corners…with a name like, ‘The Driftwood Inn’ with a sign that’s on the blink and the vacancy light is dark of a letter….a room with a king sized bed of…..questionable history.”
The rain began as if on cue….a nice, steady sprinkle, not one of those Godawful gullywashers. Rather a pleasant pattering that fit the mood so perfectly. She rolled down her window a crack just so she could smell it…Mmmmmmm….earthy….and delicious…….A boom of thunder…..followed by impulsive streaks of heat lightening appeared out of nowhere to paint the blackened sky…
“The devil’s knitting.” She whispered around her cigarette. Her mama had always said that. “The devil’s knittin’!” When the lightening flashed so fast with its fury that it seemed to curve and arc, making loops in the sky.
Beside her, he gave an effortless laugh. He thought all her mama’s sayings were funny. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he gave his finished cigarette a nonchalant flick, through his partially rolled down window. The butt’s red remains glowed and sputtered, separated; then danced an angry path of broken blaze before dying to harmless ash…like cheap fireworks bought at discount at a road side stand.
They flew past the nighttime cover of trees and foliage, on a straight lane of freeway, greeted by lighted billboards that bragged…..and green signs that informed. A moon, almost swollen full circle, loomed straight ahead……Tractor trailers, pulled off on the side of the road for the evening to sleep a bit…..
“Looks like a train of elephants,” She murmured more to herself but loud enough for him to hear.
“What does?”
“Those trucks—all hunkered over in the shadows…like a train of elephants sleeping…doncha’ think?”
He glanced out the window, and said, “Well I’ll be damned if they don’t… never thought about that before….but they surely do.”
He gave her a wink. A fond wink and a smile that conveyed he thought she was clever. “You see things with different eyes,” He complimented. “Different than most people.”
She gazed out at the lush green passing them by, went inside her head for a few and zoned….Flanking them on both sides she spied the “Kudzu Monsters” crawling up the legs of power poles…. Kudzu Monsters Something definitely creepy about that uncontrollable brand of vine. Reminded her of those Sleestak thingys on that old show Land of the Lost for some reason…or maybe those horrid creatures that used to chase Sigmond the Sea Monster on Sid & Marty Croft…why she had no idea, her mind made that association…..Kudzu…that leafy plant could grow three feet a day….only way to kill it was to set it on fire and burn it down to the roots…Otherwise,it would take over the land. It could well cover a house in a month, strangle power lines and telephone poles……scary little, kudzu monsters …
“What are you thinking about?”
She jerked her head out of her thoughts and laughed as she answered, “Kudzu….I was thinking about Kudzu.”
“Kudzu?”
“Yep…..Kudzu….how friggin’ weird it is.”
“Okay…” His tone had that “she’s a little loony but I love her anyway” quality to it.
“You know….Kudzu came from Japan.” She informed. “In Japan it’s a house plant, you know sittin’ in a pot chillin’? Green average house plant…..Anyway, some fool brought a piece of it over here and put it in the ground…..It got one taste of southern soil and humidity and that’s all she wrote….plant went crazy….taken over most of the south, you know….Alabama….Georgia….Florida…touches up to South Carolina……and Louisiana on the other side. It’s really just a matter of—”
“Baby,” He interrupted, a touch exasperated. “You sound like Forrest Gump the way you’re rambling!”
“Well…..I thought you might like to know…” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest…. “Hell, its good to know things….You didn’t even know what Kudzu was until you met me!”
“Yeah well, you never had earth shattering clitoral orgasms until you met me…”
She opened her mouth to respond….then closed it again…. The boy made a good point!
A glimmer of impending carnal escapades came to shimmer behind her eyes……as his hand came to clutch at her blue jeaned thigh……
“Will you runaway with me?”
She remembered he had asked so long ago……On his knees….hands clasped on her hips……looking up into her eyes……”If you run away with me, I’ll make you happier, than any other man could……”
If it was a line…well it had been a good one…A hell of a good line…..all sense of reasoning jumped head first right out the nearest window…. ….all forms of security, logic and otherwise had ran off to hide in the shadows when that demon of impulsiveness had reared its ever so charismatic head. How could she have refused? How could she have said anything but “yes” to such a tempting offer? And she had no regrets…..
That thigh groping hand made the journey north, finding her fingers to interlock with his and give a lingering squeeze…..and she knew he really kind of liked the way she rambled……. He made her feel safe…and without him, she felt vulnerable and forgotten….paling a little, like a misplaced photograph left in the back of a car window. The sun finding, its heat fading the vibrant lines and colors……
They drove on for a while….singing along with the all night radio…..they listened to country even though he hated it…. And she sang along……
“You and your Patsy Cline,” He feigned adequate disgust. “You and your honkytonk.”
And with the lyrics, she tortured him…..singing a little overly loud, a little overly twangy….
“Two cigarettes in an ashtray, my love and I, in a small café…Then a stranger came along and everything went wrong, now there's three cigarettes in the ashtray...I watched her take him from me and his love is no longer my own..Now they are gone and I sit alone, and watch one cigarette burn away...”
Though he gave a visible wince, she noticed he couldn’t quite wipe the smile from his face.
They watched the rain in silence for a bit.
“Get the atlas out of the glovebox,” He instructed. “Find a name you like and that’s where we’ll pull in for the night.”
“A name I like? In what state?”
“Any state….doesn’t matter…whatever catches your eye…..”
So, she popped open the dash and dug through the fire hazard of mess and found the map crushed into a compact square covered and recovered with highlighted trails. A history of their travels….like veins in a well aged hand. Following her forefinger all the way down the lines, on a mission to find a name…..a name that intrigued but one that was foreign to her…..
“Baby, I don’t think there’s any place we haven’t gone.”
“Well pick one that you don’t remember….one you can’t pronounce…..”
There was one…one with five syllables…She was unsure if that was a long ‘I’ or short “A”…it was perfect! She tried to pronounce it, and almost tongue tied herself….and ended up laughing. She had a funny feeling the settlers of the town were rolling over in their graves, at her unintentional bastardization of their home……
On thier way……He drove too fast…… At last they stopped at a motel……….in the town with the funny name that they couldn’t pronounce. And the motel had a funny name too, a seedy name, with a seedy room. With a king sized bed….of questionable history…… And by the time of their departure, she knew that new history would be made…..(though not documented)…except perhaps by her hands…Her fingertips that would peck lightly against keys trying to keep up with words that matched the images as they flashed through her mind. A secret documentation, of marauders in the night…with one uncomplicated conquest for the evening…how much pleasure could one give to the other?
She was standing in the middle of the room, still holding onto the bag she’d so frantically packed…hair wet from late night rain….slick strands sticking to her neck….
She watched him….
He lit another cigarette, looking worried….preoccupied….a bit ill at ease…..the real game was about to begin…..
Finally she squeaked, “What are we runnin’ from, baby?”
There…She had plenty of ideas, but this time she would let him make it up……..She pursed her lips together and suddenly felt rather small as she saw the flash in his blue stare as the creative wheels began to turn.
“How can you ask me that?” The question came out cold. Incredulousness drenching each syllable.
Hitch….A slight hitch in her chest, a tightening of precious oxygen………..
“You, sweetheart, are a lot of trouble…did ya know that?” He stabbed the lit end of his cigarette at her like a pointer. “A lot of unnecessary trouble to put up with.”
She licked her tongue across damp lips that tasted of rain. The room was suddenly so quiet she actually heard the noise her action made. With guilt ridden eyes she connected with his stare.
“I haven’t done anything.”
A smile cracked…and the song of his reply hit the key of condescension. “You really thought no one would find out? You’re not as clever as you think you are……Why the hell do you think we’ve had to take off again? Such a bad girl, such a whole, lotta’ trouble….”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She watched him move, watched his legs take him up until he was standing and advancing towards her, boots silent atop the carpet. Then he was right by her side…. looming over, looking down…….. With one finger he placed it beneath and then lifted her chin, until she was forced to look at him……
"I know what you did…….and they know what you did……They’re looking for us right now………we’ll have to ditch the car and find a new one tomorrow……” His hands went to her hair and entangled their fingers into the auburn tresses. “They’ll be lookin’ for a redhead with guilty blue eyes….something really should be done about that.”
Twenty minutes later she was in the stall of the seedy motel’s bathroom blending in a different color with a plastic comb.
“Chameleon,” She grinned at her reflection. “I am a chameleon.”
The dye was black as chimney soot, violently clashing with her alabaster skin…..made her look a little like Snow White. She pondered her likeness as she added some ruby hued lipstick. There! Exactly like Snow White………
Then she felt just slightly insane…..so fun to pretend….to fall into fantasy…..Making it up, improvising, getting into this character she saw before her now in the looking glass. She’d started pretending around two years of age, she reckoned…and just never quite stopped….Just the ideas for the play had matured as she’d grown up….And she was ever so thankful that she had such a fun playmate waiting for her on the other side of the bathroom door….
Nervous little hemorrhages of something resembling erotic anticipation rippled through her from head to toe. She turned off the water and stood stock still for a minute trying to see if she could hear anything on the other side of the wall….silence, eerie unnatural silence…….the faucet beside her let go of a rude drip that plopped into the basin and she felt her heart dart right up into her throat.
“Oh boy, I’m scaring myself,” She let her reflection know. “What had I done, anyway? Knocked off a gas station…..embezzled a butt-ton of money and we’re headed for Mexico? Yep, I’ve definitely watched too many movies…….It doesn’t really matter what I’ve done…we’ve had to run away….. I feel bad…I’m a baddddd girl….”
She released a devilish giggle. Scattered a hand through her new locks of matted midnight………Wow, now that was dark!….”Damn, forget Snow White….I look more like Morticia Adams! No one would recognize me…..”
She retreated from the bathroom with towel dried hair, wearing one of his T-shirts. Her feet bare, her skin clean…..and found him waiting for her….
Oh shit.…………….He was taking off his belt.
Her eyes swelled to roughly the size of hi hat cymbals on your basic Yamaha kit, as she watched the buckle release, the whooshing reed like sound of the ribbon of leather being stripped from the loops of denim…..The belt going around to bond his right fist…..
She swallowed a very cold tasting pocket of saliva and without a word turned on a hasty heel and walked right back into the bathroom.
“Don’t even think about it.”
His tone made her freeze. She peaked around the corner, bad girl suddenly trying to look as innocent as possible. He gave a smile….the one she called the “Prince of Darkness” smile…all pure on the outside, eyes glistening with menace.
“Why are you hiding in there?….Come here.”
“Nope.”
She noted that he was swinging the belt loosely in his grasp, almost as if he had every intention of letting it go to coil harmlessly on the covers of the bedspread….Almost. He hadn’t let it go, not quite, just a loose nonchalant hold, careless really…..misleading……Relaxed fingers could grasp tightly in seconds, she knew…….
“What are you going to do, stand there all night hanging onto the door frame?”
“I might…”
“You’re scared of this?” He taunted. Swing, swing, pendulum style, its rhythm hypnotized her as she watched the leather dance…… When she didn’t reply, just stood there mutely with wide eyes and a pasty mouth, he continued. “Do you really think I would use this on you first off? Do you really think I would bare that tender bottom and stripe it cold with this? Hmmmm…do you?”
And that is a loaded question, she surmised….She blink at him several times…..found her hands had gone south to knead the hem of his t-shirt that kissed the tops of her thighs.
“Lay it on the bed, and I’ll come out.” She tried for compromise. She watched as he gave it a sling, and it twisted and writhed for a moment like a charmed snake before surrendering to stationary upon the bedding.
“Satisfied?” That smile was still tickling the corners of his mouth.
She made a noise, something caught in the throws of a whine and a moan and let go of the molding.
Two steps….Two steps into the lair of the room…and the lion pounced…..
She had a blink of second to let go of a surprised yelp, before she was snatched up in the trappings of his arms, being held close, snug against the cotton of his own shirt, the hardness of his chest…..He trailed his fingers through her hair……
“Snow White,” He whispered in her ear…. She trembled.
“You don’t think, that you deserve the belt, sweetheart? You don’t think you’ve been that bad?”
Scratch of stubble against her throat……He smelled like the rain…..
“I—”
He cut her off, and still holding her close, his first words of lecture began……he whispered his sermon into her pocket of ear……holding her tight, holding her hostage, forcing her to listen and take his verbal discipline, as the words chained together and the sentences grew…… Her heart began an ardent series of summersaults, as her stomach twisted with blame, her skin flushed with a strange brew of rebellion and remorse. He confined her, forced her to hear the words of the story he wove into the drum of her ear.
Then his hands began to roam…so misleading in their gentleness….for she knew how hard they could spank. From tender to torturous, they could turn on a dime. His hands searched and skimmed, shifting and shaping to curve and swell, finally one resting on the summit of her chin, which he grasped and tilted and she was forced to meet his eyes. The blue frost in them was almost weary with reluctance, yet somehow resolute with intent. Her bottom, she feared the target of his intentions…..There was a breath of pause, and then more words tumbled out and she was informed.
“I’m going to spank you. I’m going to take you over my knee and spank you for what a bad girl you’ve been. Not with the belt...no, not right away....so have no fear... for now...”
Spank, she thought…what a harsh sounding word…One of those words that sounded just like it felt…..Like a slap, a sting, that one syllable spitting, with that rude “K” kicking on the end…… A scary word…a taboo word……nevertheless….one of her very favorites….
“I want you to spank me,” She had said…in a different time in a different place.
She’d gotten up her courage after about the third or fourth time they were “together” She’d seen enough clues scattered here and there…she’d paid attention. She knew he might well be into it….that he might have done it before…… So she had said it….when they had been naked. Their skin glazed with the frost of fornication, head punch drunk with endorphins. Perfect timing…?? She didn’t know, but the statement, the want…..the breathless command had come flying out of throat, as he’d held her close……(okay wait…..actually he had had her slammed up against one of those dorm lockers….yeah baby….rather bent over pushed flush against the coarse grains of wood ……..Ahem….)
“Spank me…I want you to spank me…….”
A moment of muteness, that squeak of silence, when you wish you could snatch the confession so recently expelled back down your throat and swallow it whole…..the admission out and audible…..that moment of no movement…No words…She thought he might have stopped breathing…What if she had been wrong? What if the clues and her instincts had misguided her and he was thinking he had some sort of freak in his arms? A naked, highly aroused “freak girl” pressed up against the locker in his dorm……
Then……
She had felt his hand slide down along the curve of her outer thigh….then dip inward until that right hand was cradling the exposed right cheek….That hand had felt like moving, breathing fire… somehow the heat of it had pulsated through his flesh into hers….. His scalding breath against the nape of her neck had been followed by the question,
“Spank you?”
And then he had delivered that first swat…..and she had thought her whole body would just spontaneously combust underneath that fire…… Suddenly she’d felt weak…..yet powerful…so hard to explain.....
“Spank you?” He’d inquired again, and though she couldn’t see his face, she thought he might have been smiling.
Another slap…a hard one, that claimed a sting that caused her to jerk in his arms….but yet she had pressed her bottom against and into that hand that had lingered…letting him know that she wanted, that she needed, that she had to have more….. And he had taken her over his knee with only a few words of intention……there had been no awkwardness to that first occurrence…….he had given her exactly what she wanted…..what she needed….what she had to have……
She’d been startled to find bruises marking her chastised bottom the morning after……..for she had not regarded the encounter as painful…..rather perfect, flawless……she had traced the clandestine evidence with fingertips fondly, daydreaming, remembering……as the ache of addiction had come……and she had admitted to the confessional of the mirror that she could scarcely wait for him to spank he again……
So long ago……
Now……
That hand leading, guiding, pulling her over to the edge of the bed………telling her why, telling her how……outside the rain washed the windows clean and a bolt of lightening crashed violently, finding its mark, staking the ground and for an instance, its power brightened the room like a spotlight….then they were wrapped in the shadows again….only the weak bulb of the end table lamps radiating a weak, warm glow…. Or what she liked to call “honeylight”.
“Come on now…” His tone was gentle, trusting, hell, downright hypnotizing……
Shuffle, shuffle…….barefeet dragging….Her heart felt like a grenade with a pulled pin, seconds away from exploding……..
And then she complied…allowed him to lay her body over blue jeaned knees. She was draped and positioned. His left arm came around in that usual manner to wrap around her middle and hold her close against him…..so he could keep control….when the need came……
The hem of her t-shirt was lifted….The sunflowers had been replaced by little bouquets of pale pink roses while she'd been in the bathroom.....pink on a landscape of white….her mind rolled that thought around for a second or two and decided those panties……with their spattering of blushing pink on a landscape of soft pallid white, was a foreshadowing of what her bottom might well look like before he was done……
More words…..always more….he was so good with them…..lecturing, but softly. Humbling, but never humiliating…….
His palm came to skim and trace the flourish of flowers. Beneath her horizontal weight she felt him shift his legs, then his hand stopped in mid motion to settle on the center of her bottom and hover almost unnaturally still…..She knew he was about to begin…… She closed her eyes and snatched a greedy gulp of air out of the room and into her lungs.
Her goal, not to let it go until that hand rose……and fell.
End Prt. 1
*Three Cigarettes in an Ashtray lyrics written by Roger Miller….performed by Patsy Cline…*
BRS 3/21/04
Trinkets and Treasure
There are colors and feelings and emotional terrain that we occupy that are ours and ours alone...
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Bethie
Moderator/Spanking Aficionado
Username: Bethie
Post Number: 743
Registered: 04-2005
| | Posted on Friday, April 28, 2006 - 08:03 pm: |
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 Thank you, Brooke! This is a great story. Now how do you know so much about being a bad girl?  |
Brooke_ray
New member
Username: Brooke_ray
Post Number: 28
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Wednesday, May 03, 2006 - 01:50 pm: |
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Heeheehee..Thanks, Bethie...I'm glad you enjoyed it...
It doesn't seem as if it's drawing much interest here, altho perhaps a few lurkers are enjoying?
I will post part 2, which is the final part, sometime tomorrow.
Trinkets and Treasure
There are colors and feelings and emotional terrain that we occupy that are ours and ours alone...
|
Pinkcheeks
Spanko
Username: Pinkcheeks
Post Number: 350
Registered: 12-2005
| | Posted on Wednesday, May 03, 2006 - 03:17 pm: |
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Hi Brooke....
This is AWESOME!! What a wonderful writer you are! Cant wait for part 2! I love your characters, and the story line is very inticing- don't worry, I am sure there are lots of lurkers reading it too
 
"Thought I WAS being a good girl...really I did!"
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Brooke_ray
New member
Username: Brooke_ray
Post Number: 30
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Wednesday, May 10, 2006 - 08:36 am: |
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Thankyou, Pinkcheeks for the comments...I write for pleasure, the sheer pleasure of words and painting pictures with them...
Part 2 (the conclusion) is now posted, for those that are reading and hopefully, enjoying.
Trinkets and Treasure
There are colors and feelings and emotional terrain that we occupy that are ours and ours alone...
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