This scene takes place immediately after the final chapter of “To Catch a Sub.” It’s long, and dear lord NSFW!
Note that this is straight from Lila’s computer, and hasn’t gone through the normal editing process, so there may be errors.
Enjoy!
The playroom had red walls. Not a bright cherry red, but a deeper hue, not quite dark enough to be maroon. The floor was painted black, and in places covered in thick black gym mats, the color flowing up into the black on black bondage equipment and furniture. In some places the matte leather seemed to absorb the light. A wide window spanned most of the wall across from the door.
They were several floors up, and the view was a panorama of the Zaan river. On the far right, she could just see an old-fashioned windmill, the tower structure painted green. Given that they weren’t far north of Amsterdam, it was probably a tourist destination.
She stopped several feet from the glass, looking out at the lights and orderly rows of brick and wood houses on the other side of the river.
Warm hands gripped her waist. “The interior play rooms aren’t finished yet, but we can go out on the club floor if the window is too much.”
Colette leaned back into Landon’s chest, some part of her sure this was a dream.
He’d told her he’d always find her, and he had. Even though she’d run, in a desperate attempt to protect him, he’d found her.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” she said. “You wouldn’t need to worry about windows if you found a nice, normal girl.”
“I don’t want a normal girl. I want you.”
Colette smacked the back of his hand lightly, then tipped her head back against his shoulder.
Landon curled his hand lightly around her throat. “You’ve run from me three times.”
“Twice. The time I was kidnapped doesn’t count.”
“Once when we met. Second time when you tried to rappel down the side of club in London—”
“I didn’t actually leave that time. It shouldn’t count.”
“It does. And the third time you disappeared from my bed.”
Her throat hurt, but not from his hand. From the tears that fisted the place just under her jaw.
“I didn’t want to go,” she whispered. “I was supposed to leave the night before. I had a ticket. I couldn’t make myself get out of your bed.”
“In the end, you left.” His hand tightened just a little.
The tears dissipated under the heat of her arousal, and a desperate need to feel his power and strength pressing down on her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Try again.” His thumb pressed the spot under her ear, making her moan. “Unless you aren’t ready to scene.”
Colette looked at the window. She owed it to him, to both of them, to think before she answered.
“I can take you to bed instead,” he said. “We can have vanilla—”
She laughed.
“—vanilla-ish,” he amended, “sex.”
“And if we scene?”
The arms still around her waist tightened. “I want to use every part of your body so you know you’re mine. I want to punish you for running.”
Colette looked at the window one last time. She’d been a prisoner of a man who thought she belonged to him. A man who’d tied her up near a window and hurt and degraded her.
That man was now braindead in a hospital in London, thanks to the knife she’d jammed though his eye.
Damien had claimed rights over her by force.
Landon claimed her because she’d chosen to give herself to him. She belonged to him by choice, not force. And he belonged to her just as much as she belonged to him.
“I need to submit,” she whispered. “I need you to punish me so I know you forgive me for running.”
“I’m so fucking in love with you, I’d forgive you for anything.” Landon’s words were thick with emotion and he spun her in his arms, pulling her against his chest and burying his face in her hair.
She held him tight, petting his head and shoulders and murmuring how sorry she was and how much she loved him in her native French, English not wide or deep enough to convey what she was feeling.
His hand slid down her back to her ass, then back up, into her hair. His fingers fumbled a little with the pins at the back of her head that kept her hair swept to one side. One by one he slid them out, tucking them into his pocket. His fingers combed through, searching for any last pins. Then he was feeling along her nape.
She knew what he was looking for, and her hands, which had continued petting him, stilled when he located the small hidden braid and the handcuff key laced through it.
Landon stepped back, putting space between them. “I’m going to take the key out.”
Colette swallowed hard, looking away.
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “You don’t need it, Colette.”
“It didn’t exactly help me last time,” she said, trying to laugh.
His dark eyes were warm but hard, like heated stone. “You don’t need it anymore, because you’re never going to be in handcuffs again.”
She’d never actually been arrested. The handcuff key was a precaution, and it had saved her life before.
“No one’s but yours?” She arched a brow, still trying to deflect.
Landon gently pinched her chin. “I told you, I’ll never use anything but leather or rope on you.”
Because she’d been forced to wear metal restraints and couldn’t stand the thought of them.
“And you’re not going to get arrested,” he said, “because—”
“Because no one can catch me.” This time her grin was genuine, and his growl only made her smile wider.
“Because you’re not going to steal anymore.”
“Well, I am going to steal—”
“Colette.”
“—but we’ll give whatever I take back.” She sighed with exaggerated sorrow.
“Exactly.”
“If it’s jewelry, can we have sex while I wear it before we return it?”
“No.” Landon paused. “Okay, maybe.”
Colette laughed in delight, relaxed and happy in a way she’d never dreamed she would be. She reached under her hair and started pulling out the tiny clear hair ties that held the small section of braid, and the key, in place.
With the ties gone, Landon took over, unbraiding and then sliding the key free.
She took a minute to breathe through the feelings. Landon slipped the key into his pocket, watching her.
“Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Nervous.”
“If you need it back tomorrow, that’s fine, but for tonight, it stays with me.” His smile was wicked, the way he lowered his head a little as he looked at her making him seem like a predator.
“I don’t need it when I’m with you.” Colette slid her arms around his neck. “Did I tell you how sexy I found it when you were right behind me that night when I talked to Mateus?”
“‘Talking’ might not be the right word…” He frowned. “You think me standing behind you is sexy?”
“Yes, because I knew no one could hurt me or touch me, no matter what I did, with you there.”
Landon grabbed her ass, hiking her several inches, until she was on her toes in the expensive black heels.
“Am I your scary dog privilege?”
“My what?” She was a fluent English speaker, but that must be an idiom she hadn’t heard.
“It’s a way of describing something that makes someone—usually a woman—feel safe in a situation where they might not otherwise. I think it’s based on the idea that it’s dangerous for a woman to walk alone at night, unless she has a scary dog with her.”
“Hmm, yes. You’re my scary dog.”
He growled.
“That noise is very dog-like.”
“If you knew what I was already planning for your ass, you’d watch your mouth, love.”
“Actually, you’re my scary wolf.”
“Wolf?” He frowned in surprise.
“Yes. I call you a wolf in my head all the time. The way you walk, and sometimes the way you look at me, it’s like being hunted by a wolf.”
“Good hunted or bad hunted?”
“Good hunted. The kind where you’re just a little afraid, but can’t wait to be caught.”
“Well, I finally caught you.” Landon gripped the back of her neck, grinning now. “If I still had a badge and cuffs, you’d be in jail.”
Colette arched a brow and arched her back, rubbing her chest against his. “For what exactly?”
“For being a thief.”
She touched his lower lip, tracing the outline of his mouth with her finger. “You didn’t actually catch me stealing anything. If you’d arrested me, I wouldn’t have stayed caught.”
“And now?” He nipped her finger gently. “Have I caught you for good?”
“Yes.” She laid her cheek on his shoulder. “No more running.”
“Good.” Landon’s hand slid into her now loose hair. He massaged her scalp, and she relaxed against him, content to just be in his arms.
Landon’s hand tightened into a fist. She gasped, then gasped again when he pulled her head back, forcing her upper body into an arc. She gripped the lapels of his tux jacket to keep her balance. His other arm banded around her ass, lifting her. Landon carried her a few steps to the left, then set her down, never letting go of her hair.
He pushed her to her knees, guiding her down with the fistful of her hair. The virginal white skirt of her gown pooled around her legs, the hip-high slit splitting to reveal her thigh.
“Spread your knees.”
The shift from tender and teasing to dominant and merciless left her reeling in the best way. He’d moved them to one of the black floor mats and she spread her knees wide on the dense padding.
“Open your mouth,” he demanded, hands on the zip of his tuxedo pants. “No hands. You keep them palm-up on your legs, or I’ll tie them together behind your back.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pulled his dick out. He was hard, and the tip was already glistening. Her pussy clenched at the sight.
“Try again.” He gripped her hair. “Or better yet, don’t. Let me remind you of who I am to you.”
The tip of Landon’s cock slid into her open mouth. She licked the underside, tracing the vein as he pressed in deeper. She gagged as the blunt head hit the back of her mouth, but swallowed, trying to relax her throat and take him deeper. She gagged again, but he didn’t stop until her nose was pressed against him, and his cock filled the top of her throat, cutting off her breath.
She didn’t struggle, though a hind-brain instinct demanded that she get away so she could inhale. She let him hold her head down, showed him how much she trusted him, even as her throat worked with the need to cough or gag.
Landon pulled out, and Colette gasped, blinking away tears and closing her lips to stop any more drool from dripping down onto her chest.
He looked like a merciless god as he stared down at her. Not just a wolf, but the king of the wolves.
“Open,” he commanded.
She took a few deep breaths, saturating her lungs with oxygen and then parted her lips, looking up at him.
Their gazes locked, held, as he thrust into her mouth. Only when she gagged on him did she close her eyes.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded, but softly.
Colette looked up, blinking rapidly, and wondered what she looked like to him, on her knees, gagging on his cock, her cheeks wet with tears.
Her cheeks weren’t nearly as wet as her pussy, which throbbed with need.
He held her down longer, and this time she struggled a little, though her hands remained palm up on her spread thighs.
“You know what to do if you need to stop.” His delicious lack of mercy had her moaning around his dick, even as her lungs screamed for air.
Landon let her go, and this time she bent over as she gasped and coughed. His gaze was softer as he looked at her, the primal control he had over not just her body but her ability to breathe clearly soothing something in him.
It soothed something in her too.
When her breathing calmed, she sat up, mouth obediently open and waiting for his cock.
“Hand on my thigh.”
“I will if you want, but I don’t need it. I trust you, Master.”
He studied her, then smiled like the wolf she’d named him to be. “Good girl.”
The words skittered over her skin, raising goosebumps.
His approval didn’t make him any less demanding, and once more he forced his cock into her throat, holding her there. She felt used and owned.
Utterly submissive.
Landon pulled back, this time crouching to stroke her cheek, and swirl patterns in the drool that had spilled onto her cleavage above the neckline of the gown she still wore.
Then he reached under the skirt, finding her sex. She was wearing lacy boy-cut underwear that covered far more than her normal panties. The gusset was soaked with her arousal. He pushed the fabric up between her labia, then scratched his short nail over the clit. Colette screamed, shocked by the sudden, sharp pleasure.
“I’m going to come in your mouth. I want you to wait to swallow until I give you permission.”
Colette whimpered, hips rocking against his hand. “Yes, Master.”
“I know I’m being harsher than I have been, but I think we both need it tonight.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I do.”
He scratched her clit again, the fabric muting the sensation just enough to make it bearable. Her hips jerked, the movement beyond her control.
“Then I’m going to punish you.” He touched her cheek, stroking softly until she looked at him. “I might not let you come,” he murmured almost sadly. “Because it needs to be punishment.”
She whimpered and leaned towards him, a mix of fear, need, and sorrow rolling through her.
“I need to be punished, Master,” she agreed. “I need you to forgive me.”
“I told you, love, I’ve already forgiven you.” He kissed her, hard and fast. “But you’re still a naughty little thief.”
She licked her lips. “I didn’t steal anything.”
“Yes, you did. You stole from me.” Landon rose, grabbing a fistful of her hair and thrusting his cock into her mouth. He didn’t force himself into her throat this time. He fucked her mouth with short, hard thrusts, only occasionally hitting the back of her throat.
“When you left, you stole my sub,” he said through gritted teeth.
She whimpered in apology, sucking on the head of his dick as he pulled back
“When you left, you stole the woman I love.”
She loved him so much, so desperately. Above her, his breathing was uneven.
“When you left, you stole my fucking heart.”
He slammed into her a few times, and then he gripped her head in both hands, holding her still as he came. She swallowed the first bit, unable to stop herself, but then tipped her head to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.
Landon was panting above her as he finally withdrew. Colette left her mouth partially open, spit and his come pooling against her bottom lip.
“Swallow.”
She looked up, meeting his gaze, then slowly swallowed.
His eyes flashed, and in the next moment she was in his arms. “I liked that a little too much,” he confessed.
“So did I.”
Landon set her down beside the St. Andrew’s Cross, turning her to face it. Shaped like an X, this particular piece was tilted slightly, rather than straight up and down, and the center of the X was a leather-wrapped wooden panel with straps dangling from its sides. More straps hung from the top, and pooled at the floor by the base of each foot.
Colette grabbed the top edge of the center rectangle, between the angled upper arms, as Landon unhooked her dress. Rather than a zipper, they’d used a long strip of hook and eye closures, which had been far easier to sew.
She had to drop her arms so the string of pearls that wrapped over her arms and across her back could slide down with the rest of the dress.
Colette stepped out of it, and froze. She’d forgotten what she had hidden under her clothes.
Landon had picked up her gown and was examining the brooch on the front. After a bit of fiddling, he managed to pop the center pearl out. Once separated, it became a gold necklace, with filigree gold-wire holding a massive, irregularly shaped pearl.
“Colette,” he growled. “Is this the replica, or the real one?”
Colette crossed her arms below her breasts, hands curled up to cover the sides of her tits. “Wondering if you actually did get there too late?” she teased.
The necklace was a fairly good replica of the famous Beggar’s Pearl necklace, which had been on display for one night only at tonight’s gala. If Landon hadn’t shown up, she would have swapped them out.
He bounced the necklace on his palm. “All right, do you want the spanking for stealing this to happen tonight, after the impact play I already have planned, or do you want it tomorrow?”
“That’s the replica,” she admitted. She was looking forward to whatever it was he had planned, but given the way he’d just fucked her mouth, she was sure what came next would be intense, and didn’t want to tack a spanking on.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Landon looked her up and down. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth. Test the pearl.”
He tucked the necklace into the pocket of his jacket, then shrugged out of it. “Colette?”
“Yes, Master?” She tried to sound sweet and submissive. Maybe that would earn her mercy. Not that she didn’t want the punishment. She did.
But she wanted to orgasm. She wanted his hands or cock inside her pussy as she came.
“Drop your arms.”
She swallowed, hopes for an orgasm fading as she slowly lowered her arms.
A black elastic band around her ribs just under her breasts held her tools. The tiny screwdriver, wire cutters, and laser light pen were all miniature. The wire cutters were positioned in the center, the capped cutting blades between her breasts, while the handle of the screwdriver and one end of the light pen were tucked up under each breast.
A plastic card case was taped to the side of her left breast, angled so all she had to do was slide two fingers into her bodice and pull out the metal card that would disrupt a magnetic signal without disrupting the magnetic connection.
Landon took a deep breath through his nose, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It was the first time he’d seen her with her tools.
“Are you okay?”
He held up a hand. “I’m…processing.”
“You knew I was thief,” she said gently.
“Yes, but seeing it…” He blew out a slow breath, and then smiled a little. “Oh love, your ass is going to hurt.”
She swallowed, taking a step back. But the cross was behind her, he was in front of her, and there was nowhere to run.
Besides, she’d stopped running from him.
Colette meekly turned when he ordered her to face the cross and raise her arms. She watched as he wrapped padded Velcro restraints around each wrist and tightened the straps to keep her arms stretched up. Not painfully stretched—she could still bend her elbows and move around a bit—but undeniably restrained.
Landon pulled her back against him, creating space so he could reach around her front for her breasts.
“How are your nipples?” he whispered.
“Healed.”
“Are you sure?”
“They don’t hurt.”
He gently thumbed them, his hands cupping her breasts. “They don’t hurt in general, or don’t hurt when played with?”
“You think I’ve been playing with myself, Master?”
“I know you have. I’m betting you were stressed these past few weeks, and you told me what you do when you’re stressed.” He gently pinched her nipples. “And I know you didn’t go to a club looking for another Dom to touch you.”
“Maybe I did,” she breathed, feeling reckless and needy.
He twisted her nipples just enough to make her moan. “No, you didn’t. Because you know who you belong to, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
He nudged her head to the side to kiss her neck. “Yourself, and then me. In that order.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, though her needy, submissive side would have been perfectly fine with him just saying she was his, body and soul. After all, it was true.
Landon’s fingers found the tape that held the card pocket to her breast. She winced a little as he peeled it off.
“Don’t lose that, please. It’s one of a kind.”
He made a low grumbling sound that had her shivering before he found the Velcro that held the tool harness around her ribs. He undid it, sliding it off.
“That too,” she breathed.
“Back up. Stick that ass out,” he snapped, tugging her hips.
Colette took a step back, palms and forearms flat on the St. Andrew’s. She couldn’t bend much, but with the heels still on her feet—and strapped around her ankles so she couldn’t kick them off—her ass felt very exposed and vulnerable, despite the boy-cut panties she still wore.
“Hiding any other tools in these?” He ran his hands over her underwear.
“No, Master.”
He grabbed the waistband of her panties and jerked them down. She spread her feet to keep her balance as he tugged them roughly.
Panties around her knees, ass up and presented for a spanking, Colette smiled. Twelve hours ago, she’d been struggling to make peace with the reality that she would never see or hear or touch the man she loved again. Now he was here, and she loved him so—
Colette shrieked as his hand landed on her ass, hard and hot. He was not holding back.
“My hand is just the warm up,” he warned her, then spanked her again.
He wasn’t just spanking her straight on, he was using a slight upward swing that meant he caught the bottom of each cheek and made her ass bounce.
By the time he reached ten—five on each side—her bottom was hot, and she was twisting and turning away after each spank.
“Get that ass in position,” he scolded, and when she wasn’t fast enough, he spanked her pussy.
She whimpered.
“Ass in position,” he commanded.
Colette shuffled back into place, her ass up and back. He was merciless tonight, almost frighteningly so, and she loved it.
“I want you to stay like this for as long as you can.” He stroked her from lower back to thigh. “But this is going to be a bit more intense, so if you can’t stay still that’s okay.”
Colette twisted, sucking in air once she saw what he held.
The wooden paddle was long and thick. Heavy. Though he had a heavy hand, tonight’s spanking caused more of a surface sting and heat than a deep ‘thuddy’ impact.
She whimpered, and the instant she did he was there, cupping her cheek. She let his hand take the weight of her head.
“No special words or terms. If you say ‘slow down’ or ‘stop’, I will. Use your safeword if that comes more naturally.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I want you to take this for me,” he said softly.
“I want to take it too, but I’m scared.”
“Of the pain?”
“Of disappointing you.”
“You won’t disappoint me. No matter how much, or how little, of this you can handle, I will not be disappointed in you.”
Smooth, cool wood stroked over her bottom, soothing the heat left by his hand. Landon’s free palm settled on the small of her back, pressing down firmly. Holding her in place, but also anchoring them together. That touch centered her, and Colette let her head hang between her arms.
Thwack.
The heavy paddle struck her left cheek, dead center. She lurched forward from the impact, but his hand helped keep her steady. There was a deep heat that took a few seconds to register, and when it did, she moaned.
He rubbed the spot he’d spanked with the paddle, then struck her ass again, just below the first spank on the same cheek.
He paddled her ass—well, one half of it—with methodical precision, the deep heat building even as the surface sting also built. Her moans became whimpers, then small shrieks. She pushed up on her toes, rocked forward, even bent her knees in an instinctive effort to escape the punishment, but she didn’t dance out of the way or twist. His hand on her back kept her feet in place.
“Tell me what you’re feeling.” His palm rubbed her abused butt cheek and upper thigh.
“Hot, sore. Your hand feels rough even though I know it’s not.”
Landon squeezed her, fingers digging into tender flesh until she yelped. Then he switched sides, and started over.
Her bottom felt like it was on fire, and throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Now she was whimpering with each strike, tears gathering behind her closed lids.
Colette lurched forward a step and yelped as the paddle struck her sit spot. Even his hand on her lower back hadn’t been enough to keep her in place now that her whole body was trembling in reaction to the punishment.
“Up, love.” His hand around her ribs helped her straighten. “Now up against the cross.”
Making soft mewling noises of submission and need, she obeyed, pressing her stomach against the center panel.
Landon pressed against her back. He felt warm against the chilled skin of her naked back, but cool against her heated butt.
“Can you take a few more for me?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes, Master.”
“Your ass is pink, almost red. Looks like it hurts.”
Colette looked back at him, propping her chin on her shoulder. “I wonder how that happened.”
His dark grin made her breath catch, and when he stepped back and to the side, she kept watching him. Landon examined her with a focused attention that made her feel safe. Then he raised the paddle, bringing it down on her butt with a loud thwack.
The sensation was different now that she was standing upright. Her butt was no longer stretched from being bent over, so the heat built slower, her ass jiggling with each strike from the paddle. He was no longer working one side at a time, but both cheeks at once, and it hurt.
Colette dropped her head back, whimpering, moaning, and yelping.
“You will never run from me again,” Thwack, thwack.
“Never,” she agreed.
“You’re mine.”
“Yours.”
“You will never steal anything again.”
Colette licked her lips, looking up at the ceiling.
“Colette.”
“Yes, Master?”
Thwack. “You won’t steal things anymore.”
“Since I have to for your security consulting to work…”
“Our security consulting company. And I mean besides that.” Thwack. “You will only steal things as part of a contracted security test.”
Colette pursed her lips.
“Colette…” He growled her name.
“Yes, Master?”
Thwack. “You will only steal things as part of a contracted security test.”
Promising that seemed short-sighted. What if the security thing didn’t work? They could both become thieves instead. She imagined the intense sex they’d have after a successful job.
“Colette!”
“Yes, Master?”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Love, you have five seconds to make the promise, and if you don’t, you’re getting five hard ones on your already sore ass.”
Her pussy clenched, her mild masochism twisting with her submissive need.
“I promise not to…steal anything without warning you about what I’m going to do first.” She rushed the rest of the words, then braced herself, leaning forward.
Landon snarled something wordless, then paddled her ass. The final five swats were harder than any that had come before, her already tender flesh lighting up. She screamed, pulling hard on the restraints even as she tipped her pelvis, presenting her ass for the punishment she so desperately needed.
The fifth and final strike of the paddle hit the lower curve of her butt cheeks. Her skin felt burned, the muscle and fat layers beneath throbbing. Colette sagged against the cross, her knees weak, her breathing fast and uneven.
“Beautiful.” Landon was kneeling behind her, first to undo the ankle straps of her shoes, then pull her panties all the way off, and finally to place gentle kisses on her abused backside. Even the kisses felt harsh and she whimpered. He made quick work of her wrist restraints, and then she was in his arms.
Landon carried her out of the playroom and down the hall. She closed her eyes, letting her whimpers fade as the world spun around her. Then he was sinking down on something soft and stretching out with her draped over his chest, his thigh between her legs, his arms wrapped around her, one hand on her abused butt.
He whispered how beautifully she’d taken it, how lucky he was to be her Master. The pain in her butt turned into a steady throb that felt wonderful. She shifted so her ear was above his heart, and she imagined that her body was synched with his, the places where he’d punished her throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
Her pussy was wet with need, and part of her wanted to rub herself against his thigh, but the sexual desire was held at bay by the post-punishment peace.
“Landon?”
“Yes, love?”
She propped her chin on his chest. “I love you.”
He took a deep breath, letting it out. “I love you, too.” His body softened under hers, and she realized that part of him had still been tense. She’d hurt him when she left, and though he’d forgiven her, and now absolved her with punishment, she’d always carry a kernel of guilt and regret for causing him pain.
“How sore are you?” he murmured.
“Very. You’re terribly cruel.” She fluttered her lashes at him.
He didn’t smile. “I was harsh.”
“I wanted it, and more importantly I needed it.”
Now he smiled, but only for a moment. The frown was back. “Colette?”
“Yes?”
“What did you mean when you said you’d warn me before stealing anything? Were you pushing to get more punishment?”
“No.” Colette sat up. “I’m just saying we should keep our options open.”
His gaze narrowed. “We don’t need to keep our options open. We have a plan.”
“It’s a good plan.”
“It is.”
“But…”
“Colette!”
Laughing at his expression, Colette stretched out on top of him, her naked body molding against his clothed one.
“If I can’t spank the thief out of you maybe I can fuck it out of you,” he mused with a long-suffering tone.
Colette laughed, then rose up on her arms so she could bring her lips to his. The kiss was slow and deep to start, then twisting and heating to become something more.
“I don’t know if that would work,” she murmured. “But you should definitely try.”
Thank you again for reading! If you enjoyed the story, please tell a friend. There’s nothing as valuable to an author as readers recommendations to other readers.
Now it’s time to go write “Take the Sub and Run”