I love you too…

She and I have come to a conversational understanding. We were long looking for a way to speak to each other in a D/s manner in vanilla context. We came up with her calling me Johan, the German version of my name. And I call her “Ms. $LASTNAME” (Can’t quite say it here in the blog, but the emphasis is on the “Ms.”). It’s been working wonderfully for us.

In recent times, I’ve come to answer her comments of “I love you” with “I worship you”. Of course, saying “I worship you” in vanilla space is awkward, so recently, mostly around the house, I’ve taken to answering her with “W”. And if someone asks, we can explain away with “I love her twice as much.” (Double ‘you’) But we haven’t had to explain, yet.

So I’ve been saying that to her for a couple months now. And I, as the submissive guy in the relationship, I default to the “W” – because while I know I love her and she knows I love her, the worship is my submissive side able to come out and the worship cannot happen without the underlying love. She’s missed my saying “I love you too” back… and yesterday morning she said “You know, you can say ‘I love you too, sometimes’ ” to me.

Later this morning, we were separating our worlds for our morning errands and she was on her way to leave and said “I love you.”

“I love you too sometimes” was my reply. We both laughed. I love her very much. And not just sometimes. #literalist

Some tiny sense of normalcy

She posted about the difficulties that were coming around in our world, so you’re all aware of that. I’d been away this week house sitting (and dogs and kids) and it was a fortunate turn of events that I was away some of this week, though it was hard to be without her for those nights. I thought I’d be back tonight, but imagine my surprise when the homeowner came back Wednesday night instead of Thursday! Well, I was already well into my cups Wednesday and had plans to work from “home” Thursday, so I stayed through Thursday, made a beautiful brunch of steak and eggs, did my work and left Thursday evening to show up at home and surprise Chloe before she and “The gang” headed over to Troy’s place to enjoy a picnic of Troy’s nosh plate and a ton of food from the nearby mexican place.

I served where I could, helped here and there and we made it a lovely night until the mosquitoes came out, which drove us inside and then shortly thereafter, homeward. Home again and with the evening falling to darkness, we retired to our room where I serviced her, as we had both missed that.

“Get that tongue in there boy… ” “Good boy, you’ve been missed while you’ve been gone.” “Yes, hump that bed, boy… ”

And I serviced and I humped the bed and her hand and I rubbed her back. She told me to calm a bit, then to get my face into her ass while she lay down her body in a comfortable way. We fell into a nap sleep state there, but soon were roused and coupled, and fucked and then went back to the same position again where we fell into a deeper slumber. Until the morning.

But things have some normalcy about them, which is good amid the turmoil. I am back in my place, she in hers, and we just have some extra company a little more often than one might prefer. But it’s temporary and okay. And she and I are good. And we’ll have to watch for tension, but we’ll get through it.

Not the best of days


It has not been a good week. The past 4 weeks have been challenging, but this past week has been especially hard. All vanilla stuff. My wonderful, loving, family oriented dad got his legs kicked out from beneath him, and at age 76, he is dealing with a life altering sense of sorrow I have never seen him deal with before. A first world problem perhaps, but it’s a problem for him none-the-less and I am deeply saddened and distracted by it.

I spend my days at my job (thank god I really enjoy my work!) and I come home to my dad. I am with him  until he sleeps. Then I sleep. And then I get up and do it all over again. That’s pretty much how it’s been. I have not spent this much time with him in decades. I’m happy to do it, but it’s not without adjusting to it.

I have been amazingly fortunate. I have not had overly needy children or  parents. Nothing out of the ordinary. I come from self-sufficient stock, apparently.  I am well aware at what a wonderful thing this is. But now that has changed, and will stay changed for the immediate future. Not forever, or even for a long time. Hopefully, next week will bring a lot of resolution. But for now, this is how it is.

I have put mostly everyone on hold. It is all about him right now, as it should be. No nights out, no writing of the blog, no scheming or planning….fucking or beating.

I have had small moments where I feel seized with worry about my boys….my john and troy.  I don’t like feeling like I am not caring for them. It sounds and feels odd for me to say that. I am the Dominant, after all. But I see them as possessions. My cherished possessions. And out of necessity, I have had to put them on a shelf for a bit, and let them be.

But I also have bigger moments where I feel deeply confident in them. They know me, they know my family and they understand what I am dealing with. They are respectful, loving, loyal, caring, kind. Exactly what I want and need them to be. I think this is the first time that my vanilla life has so fully interjected itself into my kinky world for a prolonged period of time, and I sense that troy is not sure what to do. My guess is that he is giving me space and privacy, and I appreciate that. I am, however, disappointed that I didn’t get my flowers this week.  My table has been bare for days. Each week he is to bring me one small bouquet. I’ll admit that I feel disappointed. This is one of those rare and perhaps awkward times when no one is quiet sure what to do or how to act and so therefore we are just simply being good and kind to one another. And this is a good thing. I am not knocking it at all.

But I miss their attention. I miss time with them. I miss john. He pets my back and body every single night before I fall asleep, and I miss it. I miss the comfort of his quiet confidence. I miss how he knows me so very well and how he kneels before me as I undress for bed. I miss the homage he pays to my ass each night. I miss a thousand things about him. I miss troy cooking for me. I miss parading him around. He is tired too. It’s the craziest part of his year work wise. I don’t want to berate him for being as human as we all are. But dammit, boy…where are my flowers??


So….my point, exactly?? My point is this: I am just as awkward as any other human being right now. I am the boss of this domain, and yet I feel a bit powerless. I am the dominant, and yet I am wishing someone else would decide what’s for dinner, or what we’re going to do with the early evening hours. I don’t like these long leashed that are currently attached to my boys, and yet I appreciate very much that they aren’t tugging upon me, adding strain. I want things from them that feel selfish. And I feel guilty about feeling selfish. Yet… I have never apologized for wanting what I want. Right now, I want to demand things of them without having to spend the mental energy thinking about how I demonstrate that appreciation. I have moments in my day where I feel really damn demanding of them, but I have mostly been quiet. Add it all up, and it feels awkward. My kink feels awkward right now because I am not sure if I should let it all go and be pushy with them this week, or if I should not. Do I get louder, or quieter…..that’s the question.

I really miss kink. Good to know that it is right there waiting, but wow….I really miss it. Those boys had better watch out. There’s a lot of lost time to make up for.




Tales from camp: Dude in distress II

I won’t retell all the detail from us getting to the Dudes in Distress orgy, but this was the third scene that happened in that lovely evening. In the second scene, I had just been an extra hand, helping jerk someone else off all while getting my cock sucked by someone else. As I was lying there on the gym mats, Madame came up to me and whispered “You’re going to get fucked tonight. And I’m going to watch you get fucked tonight.” Naturally, this roused my prurient interest and my cock swelled. We finished the scene that was going on and while it wrapped up Madame gave me instructions on where I should be and how I should position myself.

I was peeled off of the previous pile of bodies to a position more on my own and Madame, while waiting for her accomplice, started fingering my ass and whispering in my ear “She’s got a very big cock on her and she’s coming here to fuck you, just so we can see you get fucked. All the women in here will be smiling while they watch you take that big cock. And the men will be jealous of you getting fucked like that too.” My cock leaked. Her fingers probed, more lube was applied, my ass opened. Madame took a break from opening me and I lay on the mat by myself. It was a warm enough evening, I was still dressed in the chaps and the bow tie, but I’m not sure if the vest was still on me at this point. The chaps, I was told, had made my ass a beautiful target not just of paddles and hands, but strap-on cocks and real cocks from around the tent.

Pinned down like this, but different. No comfy mattress, just a wrestling mat.

Pinned down like this, but different. No comfy mattress, just a wrestling mat.

Soon I heard a new voice and felt another set of hands on me. A woman was positioning me, and then gloved fingers massaged my ass. First one finger, then two, then a declaration of “I think he’s ready.” I could touch my Mistress’ leg while this other woman got behind me and lubed her cock, then started pressing it into me. I will admit there was some measure of mismatch… some confusion… some “not fucking” wherein I started to feel a little frustrated, but my partner in this story of sodom was imminently patient and after several adjustments, her cock slipped into me and she started fucking. Her patience was appreciated and her cock was now being appreciated as well. Lying down on my belly, I could not see her, but I could feel her, grabbing at the leather on my hips, pulling me into her and pressing my body against the mat. There was nowhere for me to go. It was difficult to get away from the fucking, if that’s what I thought I wanted to do. When you’re pinned down between a lovely woman, her cock and the mat, there’s really no place to go.

She fucked and I moved against her, turning it into a “we fucked” moment. It felt good, which is something that hasn’t happened a lot in the few strap-on fucking moments I’ve had. They’re usually more awkward and often more frustrating, but this… oh this… Soon I was lying there, my left hand wrapped around my Mistress’ foot and was having a nice wonderful orgasm, my arching back and my arms pressing compelling me to rise from the mat, all while she was still fucking me. And then I collapsed to the mat again. My Mistress leg moved away from me. And yet LJ’s leg was near to my right arm, so I clutched that. And I held her foot through the next orgasm, again arching, pressing, stretching myself all while my strap-on cock equipped partner fucked me constantly.

Soon enough the second leg disappeared from my realm. The tent, although it was lit beautifully, disappeared for me. I don’t remember closing my eyes, but I knew that I saw nothing. I now felt the ground for something to hold, to keep me grounded. The cock slid out, she re-positioned and put it back in and fucked me again. It felt to me like she was getting into it, but I don’t know if she was getting off on it, still she fucked. My hands still searched for something to grab. No tent poles. No furniture. No people. Nothing, but… finally, the edge of the mat. I found it. It was a hard edge and I could pull it up just enough to grab, so I did. I melted into that mat, became a part of it and I felt almost as inanimate an object as the mat. There was a beautifully animate person driving a lovely thick inanimate cock into this person who had become a part of the mat. Alone on the mat, I had become the mat and I relished her pounding of my ass. I had two more orgasms while she fucked me, then I had to stop. Through the entire night, I think I had seven orgasms and my body was tired. And this fucking had been beautiful and lovely. I lay on the mat, wasted and tired and, oddly enough without achieving ejaculation, sated. Yes, I was satisfied with all of it. I had plenty of pleasure and just needed a few moments to lie there and relax. And so I did.

A few minutes later, as I consciously willed myself into getting up, because I don’t want to just lay there all night in afterglow, we peeled off the random pieces of “chuck” from my sweaty skin, I greeted my new found friend, learned her name, failed to ask her if I could use her name in this blog entry, sipped water, laughed, thanked her for her patience and, in general, had a very lovely time.

Thus far, this has been the most satisfying strap-on fucking I’ve ever had. It certainly was a lovely time and the presentation of it was also so lovely, wherein I didn’t see the strap-on wielding partner until after, I was successfully penetrated from behind and I had four frikkin orgasms! How cool is that?

I do have to say that I am very happy for this session to have happened and thankful to my lovely Chloe for making it happen. I do love how she gets things worked out for me and has made many a think work out for me in the past. Thanks, Ma’am. You’re so lovely for finding beautiful people to fuck me. ;)

Since then, I’ve spoken with Chloe about more strap-on play. How I know that it’s often presented in very D/s ways, but I also want us to be able to have a strap-on session wherein it’s loving and beautiful and, much like some of the time when I’m having sex with her, just us fucking. I’d love for her to be experienced enough with my ass to be able to just say “I’m fucking you tonight… ” and not have it be a big deal and not that it has to be something that’s necessarily D/s, but just another way to make love together. If we could find a way for her to be able to have an orgasm from fucking my ass while still denying my pleasure, that would be beautiful. I look forward to that day happening sometime soon. In the meantime, I’ll look back at this camp and this lovely Dudes In Distress orgy with great fondness. I really do love camp.


There’s a lull in our FLR. Life intrudes on things sometimes and the active and more noticeable parts of our FLR will be a little quieter. And that’s fine. I’ll still be the one to make the bed. I’ll still make sure the dishes are done. I’ll do the things I’m supposed to be doing and the other more steamy parts that readers like to read will take a little break. Perhaps I’ll have enough time to write up some more about camp. ;)

All is well among us, but life has intruded. I’ll wear my shackle all day, my collar at night and I’ll lock myself up on the days that I’ll be away from Madame next week, but we’ll get through it.

Will another fantasy become reality?

Continuing to make time for blogging… Let me relate a story from last week. I had a little idle time at the office – time where I can’t really leave where I’m at, but not really time to work on any other project. It happens where I get stuck in a chair for 18 minutes, but can’t leave. So, onto my phone I go and wander through my porn feed or I might check out Craigslist. And that’s where I saw this:

I am visiting 7/11 to 7/14 on business and am looking to get together with couples at my hotel in the evenings. I am looking specifically for couples with cuckold fantasies and for couples with experience.

Like many submissive men who are in relationships that are open, I have fantasies of Madame cuckolding me. In fact, it happened just a week or so before I saw this ad. Madame had spent some time with a dominant man who took her to dinner, they then had some consensual BDSM play and he fucked her thoroughly. Madame had returned from that visit the next morning and by the time I saw her had not showered since the last bout of fucking so she used that against me as I kissed her body in our bed. “Can you taste his cock, pup? Can you taste his cum?”

I’m pretty confident that she didn’t actually take his cum inside her, but I’m not sure. And while we generally play safely, it is her prerogative to do what she wants if she is with another man. If that means letting him fill her with cum, then that is how it will be.

Back to present day… I forwarded the ad from Craigslist to Madame. At this point, I hadn’t seen the picture that was associated with the ad, just the text. Turns out my Craigslist app wasn’t providing pictures. Later I looked up the ad at home as Mistress was writing an email to this bull. That’s when I saw the man’s very long straight cock. It was certainly longer than mine, but not necessarily thicker. I commented to Madame that I was just now seeing the picture and she commented “I know that cock will make you gag” and smiled widely at me. “I can’t wait to hear you choking on it.”

She sent the reply and, as it was a late notice thing, we had to end up trying to keep current schedules open to accommodate the bull and his cock and his desire to fuck my Mistress – and maybe me.

It’s very difficult to find sane, clean men that want to play with a couple like us. We’ve tried a few times but only really found one connection so far. Madame has found some men to play with her, but we’ve only incorporated one Craigslist find into our combined world.

So, to move from the dearth of Craigslist finds to actually replying to someone about a possible bull and cuckold situation – that’s quite a leap for us. It’s very exciting. Chloe knows I would be happy to watch her and/or participate, but I think she’s been trying to see if it’s fantasy or reality from my mind. And it’s absolutely reality that I want to see my Mistress pleasured by someone else. Whether that’s a cuckolding situation for me remains to be seen if she’s up for that, but I think that it really has moved into a wanted reality. We shall have to see. In the meantime, I’ve asked “Should I keep searching?” and she has given her approval to continue looking.

We did not hear back from him in time. Perhaps he was booked up already, perhaps he didn’t like the pictures we sent. Perhaps he was just a picture collector. But we did send a reply and Madame certainly made moves to make this happen. And now I think I’ll have a little more idle time in that same chair tomorrow. So perhaps I’ll have another chance to search.

Lost count


I’m not even sure what day it is. I’ve officially lost track of the count. Of the days. Of the numbers that signify the amount of time that has passed us by without my boy having a cum. I am going to guess it is somewhere around 140. Maybe even 150. Or is it maybe 133? I’m not sure. But when I think about such a thing, I immediately smile. It’s a smile that starts in my soul, crashes into my heart, and spreads across my face.  There is, though, one fleeting thought that cuts through that particular joy… a small thought, a guilty thought, scolding that I should know the number. The exact number. The number of days that I keep him in denial. I should not lose sight of such a number. But I have.

And then I smile again, letting that one fleeting thought have its moment, and then I push it out of my mind. It’s gone as quickly as it came. I heard the thought, I acknowledged it, I recognized it, and then I sent it away.

The point is, it’s a big number. So much so that I am losing track of it. I don’t know when it will stop growing. Eventually, it will end. But in the meantime, like coins piling up in a jar, I see all of the days tumbling together. I freely admit I like the this big number. Bigger is better, right?

I read my boys post. I am glad I did. I liked how it addressed some things I have been thinking about, things we have not yet talked about. I know how it can get for him… falling in to his submission too deeply, too hard, too completely.  That IS a risk, but we know this. We haven’t talked about it because it has not been an issue lately, but it can if we are not mindful. He is exactly right; I do not want a doormat. I don’t want everything that comes out of his mouth to be accompanied by the word “Ma’am“. That would irritate me. I love his mind, his thoughts and I value his opinions. I like seeing and feeling his strengths. 150 days has great potential to change him. It has changed him, but in ways that have affected his service, not his demeanor. He is better. He is more complete in his service. It no longer seems to be something that has an on/off switch. It just seems to be on at all times. This, I very much love.

It seems to me that the more he is locked down… the more he is denied… the more freedoms we gain. We have more range to live the 24/7 that we have slowly been working toward. We didn’t set out to do this it just happened. Slowly and over time we have inched our way to this place. We still get silly together, we still have disagreements, and once in a while, I’ll want him to pull my hair and I’ll want him to take the reins between the sheets. And he’ll do it. And it’s awesome. But then it’s back to normal for us. And that new normal is long term denial.

The topic of time is hard to put into words as time is a relative thing. Many kinky friends (especially the guy friends) are horrified that it’s been something around 150 days. To be fair, they are more likely mystified.  To me, it feels as though we are just getting started.

I told my boy the other night as I was torturing his cock that I might just not ever let him cum again. He cried. He pressed his face against my breast and wept. I continued to hurt him as I stroked his hair, whispering that I knew it hurt, but that it would be okay. I reminded him that he is my slave, my toy, my plaything and that I had no need for him to cum. He looked at me with love and despair; longing and contentment. It’s like a drug without drugs. The thought of not cumming enslaves him more than anything else, I think. And yet, we chose this. With full heart, soul, mind and body, we chose this.

That is very much a part of the smile that envelops me.

Restful sleep? Well, different

It’s been a few times we have fallen asleep this way, but I do it because it leaves me in a comfortable and very servicing position. Here’s how it works. She’s lying on her left side and her right knee is bent, pulling her right leg up a little and exposing her inner left thigh. It is there, her inner left thigh, where my head rests. My feet are up by her head and her hand can reach my cock and balls, all locked up in the Steelheart chastity device. It is from this position that I can rub her back gently, petting her to sleep, all while my mouth can still place more gentle kisses on her ass.

Last night, she also directed me to kiss her toes. This brought me down lower and now my crotch was more open to her hands and she used that opportunity to penetrate my ass while I licked and kissed her toes. She did turn more onto her back while we were doing this so she could access me without awkwardly twisting her arm.

She would roughly finger fuck my ass, demanding I apply more of my spit to her fingers while she did so and I would kiss her feet. This is a new position to allow such attentions, so it was incredibly highly charged with my submission and her dominance. Often times she would be fucking me so hard I had to cry out into her feet and gag myself with her toes. “Cry for me” she would say.

After some time and several instances of my crying out into her feet, she called me back up to pet her, she was ready for bed. I cleaned her fingers with my mouth, kissed her ass again and settled my head back onto her inner thigh. We fell asleep like that, my face just an inch from her bottom and my head resting comfortably on her thigh. We slept for hours and only on her first wakeup, the first light of day starting to fill the room, did she rouse me and direct me to spoon her again, which I did. We slept as spoons for a while.

Having the warmth of summer certainly does lend itself to lying across the bed without worry of sheets and blankets. And lends to my not feeling smothered under those covers.

It’s not an entirely new position but it was certainly more involved. She also enjoyed my kissing and licking her toes. Neither of us are big foot fetishists, but we are both gaining an appreciation for the task and duty of kissing her feet and I think she’s enjoying the perceived humiliation of my cleaning her toes with my mouth. She also very much enjoyed my suffering at her fingers fucking my ass. I haven’t asked her, but I would bet that her hearing my moans, groans and crying out would have been her most favorite part of the evening. It seems like a case of “be careful what you wish for” when you ask for your Mistress to be a little more cruel to you. Now that she’s enjoying hearing my misery, she finds more ways to torture me.

At risk of falling in

I know I still haven’t written about all the wonderful things that camp had to offer, but camp is still with me. And on top of that, my denial continues. And my submission to Chloe continues. And it’s not stopped. And that’s unusual for us. Usually we take a bit of a break. This year, perhaps because we are living together 24/7 and living a much more FLR, we haven’t taken a break. Even with me having my children for weeks at a time, I am still Chloe’s boy. And she’s continued to run with it.

And that’s where I find myself at risk of falling in too deeply. I can, sometimes, fall very deeply into my submission to her. Into that place where I will do anything for her. And I trust her completely, which is good, but damn, I could be at some serious risk here. And it’s not like I’m going to jump off a bridge for her, but the primary risk is that of losing myself – my “John-ness” which attracts her to me – in favor of my submissiveness. I suppose the easiest way to describe it is that I could turn from that nice strong guy she loves to be around (and loves to torture) into the doormat slave that goes into the “Yes, Mistress” to all the queries she makes. And that doormat kind of submissive is not what either of us find sexy. And yet, I’m at risk of being there.

At risk of falling very deep with no escape

At risk of falling very deep with no escape

I think that, after the kids head back to their mother and I can get a break for a few days, I’ll be okay. Once I can get some of the writing out of my brain and into the screen, I’ll have purged some of the deeper submissiveness and made room for that John guy.

In the meantime, I have made my more dominant side make an appearance or two, which is heartening. And I think that if I were not as switchy as I am, I would definitely slip into being a very submissive slave and into the doormat world of slaves. And while that may be okay for some, it’s certainly not our kink. I just have to see where we are evolving in our kink and how we both fit into it.

Okay, so more writing to come, including more Dude in Distress and clothespins and pee and more teasing and denial than you can shake a cane at!

Tales from camp: Dude in Distress

Madame insisted we attend the “Dudes in Distress Orgy” which was hosted up in the Sex-o-rama (SOR). Since this is one of the areas we set up for camp, we like SOR – a lot. It’s special for us. Madame, myself and our toy-troy went up, Madame looking quite elegant and was towing her two boys on their leashes. Introductions were made by the hostesses of the event and we went around the room/tent introducing ourselves and what we might be interested in doing that night. I offered some suggestions of bondage and teasing. Happily and quite expectedly there were people there interested in doing some bondage and teasing. After introductions and ground rules were complete, we all kind of went off to try and connect with others. I had spied a long time friend of ours at the orgy, Tiny Terror (TT), and while we have spent many an hour around the circle of chairs by our cabin together, we’ve never really played together.

TT was looking beautiful, I’ve always found her attractive, but I think, perhaps, the age difference has prevented me from asking her to play prior to this. But there she was, smiling and attractive and there I was, dressed in naught but some leather chaps and a bow-tie, if I recall correctly. We did some quick negotiation and found ourselves a place to be. Without the toy bag, all I had to be tied up with was the leash, so she tied my arms behind me. I lay down on the liberator shape (big foam rectangle thing) with my legs over the edge and she proceeded to glove up and apply some lube, then tease the hell out of my cock for a while.

Naturally, being a teasing session, I wasn’t allowed to cum, but I would be able to have an orgasm, if I could make it happen. She had the traditional instructions for teasing me – if I say STOP, she has to stop and stop right then. I do let it get to the very edge and it can be dangerous to continue even one more stroke. Or whisper. Or tickle. Or whatever. Stop is stop. She liked this and she teased my cock deliciously. She also abused me, punching, slapping and hitting my cock and balls. Apparently I can take a decent amount of abuse to my balls, as she has lots of experience and was very pleased with the level of abuse she was able to dish out. And that fact made her smile. And that smile..

Well, let me give a little more information here. I prefer to have my glasses off when sexy times occur. I just don’t like them falling off my face and sliding around. So that often leaves me with impaired vision. This can be a nuisance at times, but in this case… I was on my back, resting on my tied up hands. She was at the other end of my body, down low, teasing and torturing. My focus was poor, but I could see those crimson lips as a beautiful flash of red. Her mouth drew me into her as she teased. I couldn’t help but stare at those beautiful lips, which, when she smiled were so entirely lovely. Her lips parted showing her teeth, surrounded by bright red smiling lips. Oh, what a joy. And she would get me very worked up and enjoy my struggling and she would smile and I would smile back at her. I know the most physical thing she was doing to me was with her hands, but the biggest mental game was that smile of hers.

A little lipstick can really make a mouth shine

A little lipstick can really make a mouth shine

I did end up finding an orgasm among all the teasing and torture she was doing. I am pretty sure I startled her with it as one doesn’t normally see men having orgasms without making a big mess, but indeed, it was a great orgasm and she was very happy to have teased me. I shared with her my perspective of the blurred image of her lips and her smile and she very much appreciated my telling her. She said she doesn’t often wear lipstick, so this was something she had done differently. And I think she just might do it more as a result.

It does go to show that often it can be the littlest of things that can turn a good scene into a great one. And in the case of this Tiny Terror, it was a little thing that made this Tiny thing even more terrorizing.

Thanks so much for the play Tiny Terror, it was a wonderful time.