Negotiations 49
This next installment features a return to first person. Please let me know your thoughts. ~Plum
Go back to Negotiations 48 or start at the beginning.
DILL’S POV
(back to first person)
Being in the dungeon with Brian made me nervously excited. His confident demeanor was reassuring and somehow nerve wracking all at once. With Justin there too, though, I felt more at ease because at least I had someone else’s eyeballs to focus on besides Brian’s. The mere intensity of Brian’s gaze, you can feel it drilling into your bone marrow. And all I wanted to do was please him. Pleasing him is like standing in unrelenting sunshine after it’s rained for a week straight in an icy cold February.
I got undressed in front of him, down to my underwear. No one else had their clothes off yet. He inspected me thoroughly with his penetrating glance, and then pointed to the fact exposed by my briefs as he spoke, “Why are you hard?”
I panicked; my mind ran backwards through my time with them and to Justin telling me that Brian has rules about arousal and what had happened two nights ago when I’d stood before him in a hospital gown with a stubborn hard on and he punished Justin for it. To his credit, Justin tried to help me, “Brian, I didn’t remind him-“
“Be quiet,” Brian told him.
So I tried, “I get hard whenever I’m around you, Sir. I don’t know how to change that.” It was just the truth.
“I’ll help you change it then. Sound good?” Brian asked. It definitely did not sound good, but I pretended that it did, “Yes. Thank you, Sir.”
Brian turned to Justin, “Get the rice for me.” I could tell that Justin objected to this but that was only evident for maybe a fifth of a second before he did what he was told. I had no idea what rice had to do with anything, but I could tell by Justin’s protective hover behind Brian’s right shoulder that this was not a positive event. Brian then told me to move back a few steps so he could pour the rice on the floor in a line. He handed it back to Justin and looked up me, “Kneel on the rice.”
“Kneel? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t know how to kneel?” Brian asked. I started to sweat a little, a cold sweat that comes anytime I know he’s unhappy with me, so I just did what he said and knelt where the rice was. “Do not sit back. Stay up on your knees,” he ordered.
“Okay…yes, Sir.”
Brian then joined me on the floor, a slightly terrifying turn of events, kneeling in front of me on the riceless part of the floor, and instructed me, “Drop your underwear down to your knees.”
I leaned in to comply. My briefs slipped down my thighs and landed on the rice. My erection was even more enthusiastic than before, and I started to feel betrayed by my own body. Kneeling on rice on a concrete floor is no trivial task either; the maddening pain of every grain burrowing into my skin had begun. Brian’s face was inches from mine as he spoke, “There are two kinds of pain in this room. One is erotic pain, the kind that can morph into pleasure in the right situation. The other is just son of a bitch pain, like the way your knees feel right now.”
“They do hurt,” I said. I didn’t tell him that I had identified a third kind of pain, the kind you can make yourself ignore if you’re freaking out and sort of scared shitless but in a turned on kind of way. I figured he didn’t want my input.
“I know they do,” Brian said, “And here’s a little real life experience to prove my point.” He ran his finger tip down my chest until he got to my cock and proceeded to jerk me off. I felt weirdly ashamed when I came in his hand after a humiliatingly brief effort on his part. He wiped his hand on my chest. “Was that satisfying?” he asked me.
“Sort of, but not really.”
“Exactly. See, I’m serious when I say that you need to learn to control your arousal. You’re not entitled to one second of pleasure that I or we don’t intend for you to have, and I can turn anything you like into something you won’t. Beyond that, though-“ he stopped and demanded, “Are you listening to me, Dill or are you freaking out in your head right now?”
“Listening, Sir. Comprehending. I want to understand everything you want from me. All of it. One hundred percent.”
“Okay, good. I’m not fucking with you just to fuck with you. I’m trying to teach you something because here’s the thing, if you actually listen to me, you’ll have the rare opportunity to experience more pleasure than you can even understand.”
“I want that, Sir. I do.”
“Just ask Justin if you doubt me in any way.”
Justin spoke up, “Brian’s right. He knows what he’s doing. I don’t always get it at first, but he’s never wrong in this scenario.”
“Why thank you, Justin,” Brian replied.
“My pleasure.”
“So, as I was saying, If you want to hang out in my home with a hard on, I don’t really care, but when you come downstairs to this room with me, you better learn how to get it under control or I will continue to punish you and him until you do.”
My heart was pounding in my throat, “Sir, I promise. I swear I will learn.”
Brian turned to look at Justin, “You’re very lucky I didn’t paddle the shit of him.” Justin and I, we both knew Brian was exaggerating a bit and neither of us had any intentions to communicate that to Brian. We rather liked his exaggerations. They invigorated us.
“Let him get up. It’s been long enough,” Justin said.
“Fine. You can get up.”
Brian stood and moved away from us and Justin moved toward me immediately and apologized in a whisper, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” as he helped me stand up.
I nodded, “I’m fine. Really.” Justin brushed the rice off of my knees exposing the deep red indentations left by each grain. I was mildly horrified but would’ve been twice so if Brian who’d then moved to the black wingback chair and was just watching us had noticed me looking. Justin pulled me to the bed, his body in between mine and Brian’s visually. The warm amber glow that hovers around Justin sucked me in immediately. He kissed me and pulled my hand into his jeans, his zipper already down. He was so fucking hard. He closed his eyes and moaned when I touched him. I peeked over his shoulder; Brian was masturbating in slow motion. “Please fuck me,” I said to Justin though I knew full well that such a request was unwarranted and undeserved. Justin’s the kind of person that makes you want to ask for things you shouldn’t because while we both wanted to please Brian, I earnestly wanted to please him. He’s my safe passage to this new world; I trust him. He opened his eyes and looked at me with so much sympathy that I felt it land, a heavy thud in my heart, “I can’t. Not yet. You need to spend some time on the machine first.”
Brian interjected with a slight tone of laughter in his voice, “Tonight, he’s only allowed to fuck you when your ass is worn out and too sore for any more cock.” Justin rolled away from me and spoke to our overlord, “Let me get him ready, okay?”
“That’s fine,” Brian noted. “Everything is ready to go over there.” He pointed to the exam table where some supplies had been set out. “I want him spread eagle in the corner.”
Justin looked at me, his hand on my face as his thumb stroked my cheekbone, “I’ll help you through this, okay? Just do what you’re told.”
“Okay,” I said. The erotic hypnosis the two of them are capable of had already drastically lowered my defenses. I felt the familiar trappings of a trance enveloping me as Brian stood me up and walked me to the corner where the fuck machine was, his persona once again the authority figure I wanted, even needed, to trust. He instructed me, “Face the wall. Spread your legs.” He placed my hands on the cinder blocks in front of my face, one on each wall.
Located behind and a few feet below me, sat the fuck machine, a black leather covered half circle with a metal rod pointing up waiting for its attachment. Justin had come back to us; he hugged me from behind; I looked down to see black latex gloves on his hands. “This is what you need,” he told me, “I want to get you where you want to go.” I watched as his hands slid down my body; he knelt between my legs. He was completely undressed. Brian ducked under my arm and appeared between me and the wall, his hands skimming down my back to my ass. He opened my butt cheeks, a greeting for Justin’s warm tongue. I rose to my tiptoes in response to the unexpected pleasure, resting my head against Brian’s black shirt. His arms tightened around me, an unspoken directive to hold still. The pleasure dispensed was intense and efficient.
“Feel good?” Brian asked me in a kind voice.
“Yes, fuck, yes” I replied. And then Justin stopped his oral overture and I felt something hotter, harder and wetter than his tongue push inside me much more deeply. “Jesus, what is that?” I asked.
“A syringe of hot lube,” Justin told me. The warmth was almost disorienting as it filled me. “Feels nice?”
Nice was hardly the right word. It was as if Justin’s aura was inside me, trapped and attempting to ease out of my pores. “It makes me want to come again…but I can’t.”
Brian laughed, “Good, This is your chance to prove to us that you deserve this experience we’re giving you. Show us how much you want this.”
I did want it. I’d wanted it for so long that I could feel the exhaustion hovering behind the need just waiting to collapse at the finish line.
Justin used his hot fingers to stretch me; I started panicking that I would come again because I felt like I was standing on a tightrope of pleasure hanging over the entrance to heaven. And then he stopped and informed me, “This is the new dildo for the machine. I want you to feel it before you sit down. It’s big…like Brian.” Brian chuffed a little; they were both smiling at one another.
“Give me your hand,” Justin ordered so I reached back and he put the toy in my hand so I could feel it and understand what it was.
“Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
The pressure of the new toy making its way inside me felt like realized ambition to me, like moving up in the world because although I’d only known Brian and Justin for a couple weeks, Brian had yet to fuck me. He didn’t ever really seem interested when the opportunity arose, so in a weird way, I assumed this might be as close as I ever got. The dildo felt like a tangible version of a self-affirmation, and I liked it. A lot. That filled-up-feeling it gave me was euphoric.
Justin was pleased. And surprised. I could tell by the tone of his voice. I smiled from my refuge in Brian’s arms.
“Okay, you’re good with it. Let me attach it to the base.” The toy was gone from inside me, and I could feel Brian looking over my shoulder as I heard clicking sounds below me. “Jesus Christ, he’s making a mess,” Brian told Justin. And that was when, with the pleasure paused, I realized that all that excess lube was running down my legs.
“He can clean it up afterwards,” Justin replied as if nothing in the world made him happier than that idea.
Brian whispered in my ear, “See what a convincing slut you are? You look like you wet yourself. Stick something in your bottom, and you’ll let anything fuck you, won’t you?”
I would. I know what I am.
“Help him down, Brian. It’s ready,” Justin urged.
Brian objected, “Um, that’s your job because he’s going to slime my jeans.”
“Then get undressed,” Justin told him, “Because you’re part of this scene.”
Brian excused himself from in front of me and I waited spread eagle with cool air whirling around my body, wet areas drying against my will. Brian had been an unexpected source of warmth against me. When he returned, we were all nude. Justin supervised my mount of this fuck machine like a structural engineer as my knees bent lowering my body down. He has a bedside manner completely different from Brian’s. More than pleasant, really; he’s endearing. His hands were on my waist as he spoke, “Okay, go slow until you feel the floor.” I did as instructed. He continued, “Okay, lean towards Brian.” The concrete firm beneath my calves, I leaned as instructed until I could feel myself in the right place. “Okay, you’ve got it. Sit down if you feel good.”
Feeling good was an understatement. I started to fuck the toy, my hands on Brian’s shoulders, and he stopped me, “No, no. You don’t move. This machine fucks you, understand?”
I froze, “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” I felt Justin come up behind me, straddling the end of the device so he could scoot closer to me. He kissed my shoulders and then slid his hand around my waist, “I have a remote in my hand. I’m going to start it slow. We’ll figure out what works. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Okay, starting slow.” The motor hummed immediately, vibrating between my legs and then the piston started to move, very slightly, up and down. “How is it?” Justin asked.
“Too slow, I think.” Brian laughed a little, but I agreed.
“Okay, try this,” Justin offered. It sped up a little, and I actually felt it fucking me so I asked Brian, “Can I sort of hug you, Sir?” but Justin answered, “Of course, do whatever you need.”
I put my arms around Brian’s neck and used him as a mast; his body came forward a bit as my grip requested. I pressed my face into his neck. His hands were spread wide on my thighs and Justin responded to Brian’s command, “Turn it up. He can handle it.”
“Okay, this is halfway,” he replied.
I moaned, halfway was nice, and it summoned Justin’s body even closer to mine, nothing between us, his chest stuck to my back. His erection felt amazing, a gift, I’d hoped, for later. He ghost-rode the machine with me. He kissed the back of my neck as he told me, “Fuck, you’re so needy; you almost put me to shame.”
At some point in our stationary journey, I felt him reach in for Brian’s cock, and Brian let out a moan of his own and reached around me for Justin’s ass, and from that moment, the three of us were smashed into this pleasure ride together.
All I had to do was let it fuck me and everyone else’s enjoyment just fell right into place. I could summon that skill I’d honed early in life to tune out everything but what I wanted by listening to the rumble of the machine the same way I would listen to the springs squeak in my bed: back and forth became in and out. The pleasure somehow propelled my mind’s eye out of my body.
Brian spoke to me while Justin stroked my back, “You finally understand your place here. You belong to us. You have nothing of your own, nothing that you don’t earn by giving up control to us.”
“You’re a good boy,” Justin awarded me, “And that makes me very happy.”
“Thank you.”
And it wasn’t even my birthday.
Negotiations 50
Go back to Negotiations 48 or start at the beginning.
DILL’S POV
(back to first person)
Being in the dungeon with Brian made me nervously excited. His confident demeanor was reassuring and somehow nerve wracking all at once. With Justin there too, though, I felt more at ease because at least I had someone else’s eyeballs to focus on besides Brian’s. The mere intensity of Brian’s gaze, you can feel it drilling into your bone marrow. And all I wanted to do was please him. Pleasing him is like standing in unrelenting sunshine after it’s rained for a week straight in an icy cold February.
I got undressed in front of him, down to my underwear. No one else had their clothes off yet. He inspected me thoroughly with his penetrating glance, and then pointed to the fact exposed by my briefs as he spoke, “Why are you hard?”
I panicked; my mind ran backwards through my time with them and to Justin telling me that Brian has rules about arousal and what had happened two nights ago when I’d stood before him in a hospital gown with a stubborn hard on and he punished Justin for it. To his credit, Justin tried to help me, “Brian, I didn’t remind him-“
“Be quiet,” Brian told him.
So I tried, “I get hard whenever I’m around you, Sir. I don’t know how to change that.” It was just the truth.
“I’ll help you change it then. Sound good?” Brian asked. It definitely did not sound good, but I pretended that it did, “Yes. Thank you, Sir.”
Brian turned to Justin, “Get the rice for me.” I could tell that Justin objected to this but that was only evident for maybe a fifth of a second before he did what he was told. I had no idea what rice had to do with anything, but I could tell by Justin’s protective hover behind Brian’s right shoulder that this was not a positive event. Brian then told me to move back a few steps so he could pour the rice on the floor in a line. He handed it back to Justin and looked up me, “Kneel on the rice.”
“Kneel? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t know how to kneel?” Brian asked. I started to sweat a little, a cold sweat that comes anytime I know he’s unhappy with me, so I just did what he said and knelt where the rice was. “Do not sit back. Stay up on your knees,” he ordered.
“Okay…yes, Sir.”
Brian then joined me on the floor, a slightly terrifying turn of events, kneeling in front of me on the riceless part of the floor, and instructed me, “Drop your underwear down to your knees.”
I leaned in to comply. My briefs slipped down my thighs and landed on the rice. My erection was even more enthusiastic than before, and I started to feel betrayed by my own body. Kneeling on rice on a concrete floor is no trivial task either; the maddening pain of every grain burrowing into my skin had begun. Brian’s face was inches from mine as he spoke, “There are two kinds of pain in this room. One is erotic pain, the kind that can morph into pleasure in the right situation. The other is just son of a bitch pain, like the way your knees feel right now.”
“They do hurt,” I said. I didn’t tell him that I had identified a third kind of pain, the kind you can make yourself ignore if you’re freaking out and sort of scared shitless but in a turned on kind of way. I figured he didn’t want my input.
“I know they do,” Brian said, “And here’s a little real life experience to prove my point.” He ran his finger tip down my chest until he got to my cock and proceeded to jerk me off. I felt weirdly ashamed when I came in his hand after a humiliatingly brief effort on his part. He wiped his hand on my chest. “Was that satisfying?” he asked me.
“Sort of, but not really.”
“Exactly. See, I’m serious when I say that you need to learn to control your arousal. You’re not entitled to one second of pleasure that I or we don’t intend for you to have, and I can turn anything you like into something you won’t. Beyond that, though-“ he stopped and demanded, “Are you listening to me, Dill or are you freaking out in your head right now?”
“Listening, Sir. Comprehending. I want to understand everything you want from me. All of it. One hundred percent.”
“Okay, good. I’m not fucking with you just to fuck with you. I’m trying to teach you something because here’s the thing, if you actually listen to me, you’ll have the rare opportunity to experience more pleasure than you can even understand.”
“I want that, Sir. I do.”
“Just ask Justin if you doubt me in any way.”
Justin spoke up, “Brian’s right. He knows what he’s doing. I don’t always get it at first, but he’s never wrong in this scenario.”
“Why thank you, Justin,” Brian replied.
“My pleasure.”
“So, as I was saying, If you want to hang out in my home with a hard on, I don’t really care, but when you come downstairs to this room with me, you better learn how to get it under control or I will continue to punish you and him until you do.”
My heart was pounding in my throat, “Sir, I promise. I swear I will learn.”
Brian turned to look at Justin, “You’re very lucky I didn’t paddle the shit of him.” Justin and I, we both knew Brian was exaggerating a bit and neither of us had any intentions to communicate that to Brian. We rather liked his exaggerations. They invigorated us.
“Let him get up. It’s been long enough,” Justin said.
“Fine. You can get up.”
Brian stood and moved away from us and Justin moved toward me immediately and apologized in a whisper, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” as he helped me stand up.
I nodded, “I’m fine. Really.” Justin brushed the rice off of my knees exposing the deep red indentations left by each grain. I was mildly horrified but would’ve been twice so if Brian who’d then moved to the black wingback chair and was just watching us had noticed me looking. Justin pulled me to the bed, his body in between mine and Brian’s visually. The warm amber glow that hovers around Justin sucked me in immediately. He kissed me and pulled my hand into his jeans, his zipper already down. He was so fucking hard. He closed his eyes and moaned when I touched him. I peeked over his shoulder; Brian was masturbating in slow motion. “Please fuck me,” I said to Justin though I knew full well that such a request was unwarranted and undeserved. Justin’s the kind of person that makes you want to ask for things you shouldn’t because while we both wanted to please Brian, I earnestly wanted to please him. He’s my safe passage to this new world; I trust him. He opened his eyes and looked at me with so much sympathy that I felt it land, a heavy thud in my heart, “I can’t. Not yet. You need to spend some time on the machine first.”
Brian interjected with a slight tone of laughter in his voice, “Tonight, he’s only allowed to fuck you when your ass is worn out and too sore for any more cock.” Justin rolled away from me and spoke to our overlord, “Let me get him ready, okay?”
“That’s fine,” Brian noted. “Everything is ready to go over there.” He pointed to the exam table where some supplies had been set out. “I want him spread eagle in the corner.”
Justin looked at me, his hand on my face as his thumb stroked my cheekbone, “I’ll help you through this, okay? Just do what you’re told.”
“Okay,” I said. The erotic hypnosis the two of them are capable of had already drastically lowered my defenses. I felt the familiar trappings of a trance enveloping me as Brian stood me up and walked me to the corner where the fuck machine was, his persona once again the authority figure I wanted, even needed, to trust. He instructed me, “Face the wall. Spread your legs.” He placed my hands on the cinder blocks in front of my face, one on each wall.
Located behind and a few feet below me, sat the fuck machine, a black leather covered half circle with a metal rod pointing up waiting for its attachment. Justin had come back to us; he hugged me from behind; I looked down to see black latex gloves on his hands. “This is what you need,” he told me, “I want to get you where you want to go.” I watched as his hands slid down my body; he knelt between my legs. He was completely undressed. Brian ducked under my arm and appeared between me and the wall, his hands skimming down my back to my ass. He opened my butt cheeks, a greeting for Justin’s warm tongue. I rose to my tiptoes in response to the unexpected pleasure, resting my head against Brian’s black shirt. His arms tightened around me, an unspoken directive to hold still. The pleasure dispensed was intense and efficient.
“Feel good?” Brian asked me in a kind voice.
“Yes, fuck, yes” I replied. And then Justin stopped his oral overture and I felt something hotter, harder and wetter than his tongue push inside me much more deeply. “Jesus, what is that?” I asked.
“A syringe of hot lube,” Justin told me. The warmth was almost disorienting as it filled me. “Feels nice?”
Nice was hardly the right word. It was as if Justin’s aura was inside me, trapped and attempting to ease out of my pores. “It makes me want to come again…but I can’t.”
Brian laughed, “Good, This is your chance to prove to us that you deserve this experience we’re giving you. Show us how much you want this.”
I did want it. I’d wanted it for so long that I could feel the exhaustion hovering behind the need just waiting to collapse at the finish line.
Justin used his hot fingers to stretch me; I started panicking that I would come again because I felt like I was standing on a tightrope of pleasure hanging over the entrance to heaven. And then he stopped and informed me, “This is the new dildo for the machine. I want you to feel it before you sit down. It’s big…like Brian.” Brian chuffed a little; they were both smiling at one another.
“Give me your hand,” Justin ordered so I reached back and he put the toy in my hand so I could feel it and understand what it was.
“Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
The pressure of the new toy making its way inside me felt like realized ambition to me, like moving up in the world because although I’d only known Brian and Justin for a couple weeks, Brian had yet to fuck me. He didn’t ever really seem interested when the opportunity arose, so in a weird way, I assumed this might be as close as I ever got. The dildo felt like a tangible version of a self-affirmation, and I liked it. A lot. That filled-up-feeling it gave me was euphoric.
Justin was pleased. And surprised. I could tell by the tone of his voice. I smiled from my refuge in Brian’s arms.
“Okay, you’re good with it. Let me attach it to the base.” The toy was gone from inside me, and I could feel Brian looking over my shoulder as I heard clicking sounds below me. “Jesus Christ, he’s making a mess,” Brian told Justin. And that was when, with the pleasure paused, I realized that all that excess lube was running down my legs.
“He can clean it up afterwards,” Justin replied as if nothing in the world made him happier than that idea.
Brian whispered in my ear, “See what a convincing slut you are? You look like you wet yourself. Stick something in your bottom, and you’ll let anything fuck you, won’t you?”
I would. I know what I am.
“Help him down, Brian. It’s ready,” Justin urged.
Brian objected, “Um, that’s your job because he’s going to slime my jeans.”
“Then get undressed,” Justin told him, “Because you’re part of this scene.”
Brian excused himself from in front of me and I waited spread eagle with cool air whirling around my body, wet areas drying against my will. Brian had been an unexpected source of warmth against me. When he returned, we were all nude. Justin supervised my mount of this fuck machine like a structural engineer as my knees bent lowering my body down. He has a bedside manner completely different from Brian’s. More than pleasant, really; he’s endearing. His hands were on my waist as he spoke, “Okay, go slow until you feel the floor.” I did as instructed. He continued, “Okay, lean towards Brian.” The concrete firm beneath my calves, I leaned as instructed until I could feel myself in the right place. “Okay, you’ve got it. Sit down if you feel good.”
Feeling good was an understatement. I started to fuck the toy, my hands on Brian’s shoulders, and he stopped me, “No, no. You don’t move. This machine fucks you, understand?”
I froze, “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” I felt Justin come up behind me, straddling the end of the device so he could scoot closer to me. He kissed my shoulders and then slid his hand around my waist, “I have a remote in my hand. I’m going to start it slow. We’ll figure out what works. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Okay, starting slow.” The motor hummed immediately, vibrating between my legs and then the piston started to move, very slightly, up and down. “How is it?” Justin asked.
“Too slow, I think.” Brian laughed a little, but I agreed.
“Okay, try this,” Justin offered. It sped up a little, and I actually felt it fucking me so I asked Brian, “Can I sort of hug you, Sir?” but Justin answered, “Of course, do whatever you need.”
I put my arms around Brian’s neck and used him as a mast; his body came forward a bit as my grip requested. I pressed my face into his neck. His hands were spread wide on my thighs and Justin responded to Brian’s command, “Turn it up. He can handle it.”
“Okay, this is halfway,” he replied.
I moaned, halfway was nice, and it summoned Justin’s body even closer to mine, nothing between us, his chest stuck to my back. His erection felt amazing, a gift, I’d hoped, for later. He ghost-rode the machine with me. He kissed the back of my neck as he told me, “Fuck, you’re so needy; you almost put me to shame.”
At some point in our stationary journey, I felt him reach in for Brian’s cock, and Brian let out a moan of his own and reached around me for Justin’s ass, and from that moment, the three of us were smashed into this pleasure ride together.
All I had to do was let it fuck me and everyone else’s enjoyment just fell right into place. I could summon that skill I’d honed early in life to tune out everything but what I wanted by listening to the rumble of the machine the same way I would listen to the springs squeak in my bed: back and forth became in and out. The pleasure somehow propelled my mind’s eye out of my body.
Brian spoke to me while Justin stroked my back, “You finally understand your place here. You belong to us. You have nothing of your own, nothing that you don’t earn by giving up control to us.”
“You’re a good boy,” Justin awarded me, “And that makes me very happy.”
“Thank you.”
And it wasn’t even my birthday.
Negotiations 50