Date: Sat, 26 Aug 2006 03:33:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: greg_alexander222@yahoo.com
Subject: Frat Boy's Bitch Boy - Part 2

The following is an original work of fiction that contains graphic
depictions of sexual activity between males.  All characters are portrayed
as being over 18 years of age, as you must be to read this.  If you
aren't,or if such material is offensive to you or illegal to read where you
are, then stop reading.

All rights are reserved by the author.  Please download for personal use
only.

Previously on "Frat Boy's Bitch Boy":

Trevor stepped back and surveyed his work with evident
satisfaction.  I could still wiggle my toes, but that
was pretty much it -- in every other way, I was
completely immobilized.  My legs were spread painfully
far apart and couldn't be moved at all -- the strain on
my inner legs and thighs was  excruciating.  I
couldn't even move my ass.  My hands were completely
trapped behind my back.  Worse, my torso and head were
trapped in a sadistic faceplant -- if I tried to raise
myself even slightly, I found the leash squeezing off
my balls, and yanking them forward at the same time,
and biting into my ass as well.  On the other hand,
because the leash was attached to my dog collar and
was pulling forward on it, I couldn't even put my head
down -- my gaze was fixed straight ahead.  The entire
posture was not only humiliating as hell -- it was also
fiendishly painful.  But there was absolutely nothing
I could do, as long as Trevor wanted to keep me tied
up there. . . .

Trevor was rubbing his cock now.  "I know what you
need, roommate.  I know what you need real good.  And
I'm gonna give it you."  He flopped down on the bed,
still rubbing his cock -- his bare feet were directly
in front of my face, just a foot or so away.   He
shoved them closer.

"Oh man," he said.  "Just thinking about what I'm
about to do to you is giving me such a massive boner.
Bitch, I want you to lick my feet while I stroke my
cock and think about your punishment."

It seemed the final act of degradation.  As I began to
lap again at the soles of his feet, I glanced up at
his wicked smirk and wondered helplessly what he had
planned for me . . .

Chapter 2

Trevor lay there for a while, just staring at the
ceiling and thinking as I licked the soles of his
feet.  Finally, he grabbed his cellphone and flipped
it on.  I saw him speed dial someone.  "Hey dude . .
." I heard him say.  "Yeah, man.  This is Trevor.
Yeah, I know, awesome game, fucking right down to the
wire . . . yeah I watched the whole thing . . .Listen
-- I gotta big favor to ask.  Are you at the frat right
now?  Yeah?  No shit?  Well, would you mind sending
one of the pledges over to my dorm room with one of
the paddles from downstairs?  The really wicked
looking long one, yeah . . . no, bro, I'm not fucking
around with you.  I need it.  Why?"  He looked down at
me and his eyebrows flickered mischievously.  "Cuz I
wanna show it to my roommate, that's why.  I think he
deserves to see it . . . yeah, yeah, I'll explain
later man . . . hey, thanks dude, see ya at practice
tomorrow."

Trevor hung up, and we sat there in silence for a few
minutes, Trevor just rubbing his cock idly and
examining me.

There was a knock on the door.  Trevor got up off the
bed, wearing only his T-shirt, and not bothering to
cover his ramrod cock, went over to the door.  I was
of course unable to turn around, but I heard him open
it, talk to someone in a muffled voice, and then close
it.

As he approached me from behind, I could hear him
swinging something wooden against the palm of his hand
over and over, making a sadistic slapping sound each
time.

"Alright, my little bitch," Trevor said.  "I want you
to meet a very special friend of mine."



Trevor ungagged me, for the second time that day, and
set his foul athletic socks, now soaked with my
saliva, off to the side. Grinning happily, he dangled
his new toy in front of my eyes.

The paddle was rectangular shaped, and very, very
long.  "Delta Psi" was spelled out in masculine black
greek lettering on one of its wooden sides -- on the
other side, in equally black handwriting, the words
"Pledge Trainer" had been spelled out.

"When I was initiated last semester, they used this on
my bare ass," Trevor was saying.  "Man, did it hurt.
When this thing smacks full speed into your ass cheek
-- the way it's about to do to yours -- man, after a few
strokes, it'll make you wish you've never been born."

It wasn't particularly cold in the room, but I found I
was shivering.  "Please don't, Trevor," I managed.

Trevor studied me carefully, incredulously.  "Did I
just hear something?" he asked.

I just stared at him.

"I could have swore I heard something," he went on,
continuing his verbal game of cat and mouse.  "I could
have sworn I heard a whiny pathetic little voice
begging me for mercy.  But I couldn't have, could I,
cuz there's nobody in this room except me and my
little footstool, who by now is well trained enough to
know that he gets punished if he ever talks to me
without my asking him a direct question."

I wanted to say something, but I wisely held my
tongue.

"And furthermore," Trevor went on, "I could have sworn
I heard that little shitbag call me 'Trevor,' which is
pretty weird when you consider that my foot stool
knows his place enough to never, ever call me that."
As he spoke, he walked around behind me, out of my
field of vision, and reached out with his right arm as
he moved, sadistically running the paddle's edge
slowly along my side, giving me goosebumps and making
me squirm uncontrollably (and futilely, given my
immobilizing bondage).  "Doesn't he?" Trevor asked
again.

"Yes, sir," I said, swallowing.

"So if that little bitch had in fact called me Trevor,
wouldn't you agree he was just asking to be paddled?"

I swallowed hard.  "Yes again, sir."

Now he was actually fondling my ass with the paddle.
My whole body was tense, waiting for the blow.  But
Trevor was having fun.  "How hard do you think I would
have to paddle him?  Bearing in mind that there is a
right answer."

I could clearly see the trap, but there was no way to
escape it.  "Hard, sir," I moaned.

"How hard?" Trevor asked again, eager.

"Very, very hard, sir."

There was a whistling sound, as I heard Trevor wind
up, take careful aim, and then smash the paddle's
wooden face into my ass cheek, swinging it as hard as
he could.  The key to remember is that Trevor was a
varsity tennis player -- and he seemed intent on giving
my ass plenty of top-spin.  As he landed the first
blow with a searing thwack, I tried to bite down on my
lip, but an involuntary cry came out.

"What do you say?" Trevor asked.

I knew what he wanted.  "Thank you, sir," I whispered,
my ass smarting horribly.

"Your welcome, my little bitch.  Would you like
another?"  I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I closed my eyes.  "Yes sir.  May I have another sir?"

Thwack!!!  If it was possible, this second blow was
even fiercer than the first.

A pause.  "Well?"

"Thank you sir," I whimpered.  "May I please have
another, sir?"

"Louder!  Much louder!"

"Thank you sir, may I have another sir!"

THWACK.

I cried out, again.  "Thank you sir, may I please have
another!"

THWACK.

"Thank you sir, may I please have another sir!'

Now he paused.  "You may, bitch boy, but first I want
you to kiss the pledge trainer."

He dangled the paddle again in front of my face,
directly in front of my lips.  I kissed it.

"Kiss it like you mean it," Trevor said briskly.
"Kiss it because you LOVE it."

I closed my eyes, and found myself pretending the
paddle was my hot stud of a roommate.  Before I knew
it I was slavishly licking at it.

"OK, enough!" Trevor shouted.  "The pledge trainer did
not appreciate being slobbered with your saliva. For
that, you will receive additional paddlings."  I heard
him lean underneath the table.  "Dude," he said, with
a sadistic chuckle. "You're still hard as a rock."  He
gently caressed my tied up ball-sack.  I thought I
would explode.  "Do you realize you're still leaking
precum, foot stool?"

"Um . . . yes sir," I managed.

He lowered his voice and leaned forward toward my ear.
 "Do you enjoy this, boy?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Answer me!" he hissed

"I don't know . . . sir," I stammered.

Trevor took my tied up balls in is oversized palm,
once again sending shockwaves of pleasure down my
spine, but then, a moment later, he reached up with
his other hand and flicked my ball sack with his index
finger, hard.  I gasped with pain, tears coming to my
eyes.  I hadn't realized how much it HURT to have my
balls flicked like that.

"Try that again," Trevor suggested.

"Yes sir.  I enjoy this, sir!"

"What do you enjoy?"

"You paddling me, sir!"

Trevor stood up, once again taking hold of the paddle.
 "That's good," he said.  "Because I'm not nearly
done."  He walked around behind me, once again letting
the paddle's wooden face caress my ass cheek.  I shut
my eyes and braced for the worse, but Trevor kept
talking.  "Listen, I have an idea bitch boy.  Yeah,
this is fucking perfect."  He chuckled.  "Tell me
something.  How many more spankings do you think you
can take with this paddle, if I keep using it on you
this hard?"

My mind spun.  My ass already felt like it had welts
on it.  None?  But I figured if I said that Trevor
would just punish me.  "Um, whatever pleases you,
sir?" I suggested submissively.

Trevor guffawed.  "Nice try.  But I want a real
number."

I swallowed.  "Um . . . well it hurts a lot . . . sir.
 Maybe . . . two?"

"You wuss!  I'm not even going to consider that as a
serious proposal.  Try again."

My heart sunk.  "Um . . . seven?"

"Listen, roommate, I'll give you one more chance.  But
this time, we'll make it interesting."  Trevor went to
his desk, and retrieved a pen and paper.  He returned,
and placed the pen directly on my back.  "Alright, I'm
writing a number down," he said.  It felt from the
motion of his pen like it was definitely a number with
two digits, but it was almost impossible to tell
beyond that.  He folded the piece of paper up and
plopped it down on the table in front of my nose.
"Now, this is a fun game.  I like to call it `guess
how many times my roommate gets paddled.'  The rules
are pretty simple.  You get to guess the number I just
wrote down on this piece of paper.  Now, if you guess
this number, or anything ABOVE it, I will accept your
number, and will paddle you that number of times.  If
you guess BELOW it, however, to punish you for your
wusiness, I will paddle you DOUBLE the number I wrote
down."

He sat down on the bed, in front of me.  "There's one
more rule.  When I paddle you, after every spanking,
in addition to thanking me, and asking me for another,
you have to COUNT each spanking, so we don't lose
track, and you are also gonna give me a good, original
reason for why you deserve to be punished, and why you
fucking worthless.  If you lose track of the
spankings, or if you run out of reasons for why you
are my pathetic little bitch boy, we start over from
scratch.  Bear in mind, I'm going to be smacking your
little ass as hard as I can the whole time.  Got it?"

What else could I do?  I nodded.

"What's that, you fucker?"

"Yes sir!  I understand the rules, sir!"

"OK," he said.  "Well, what number do you guess?"

I thought about it.

"Hurry up or I'll double my number," Trevor said.

"Thirty-six," I guessed wildly.

Trevor smiled at me.  "Bad guess," he said, and
unfolded the piece of paper.  He had written "42" on
it.

"Do you know what 42 times two is?" he asked me.

"Fuck," I said.



True to his word, Trevor didn't pull his punches.
With each spanking, he wound up fully, paused, and
then with an almost gleeful surge of energy sent the
paddle flying full speed into my ass cheek.  He was a
strong guy, and he was putting all his muscle into
making my behind feel the sting. He alternated between
ass cheeks as he went, punishing left side, then right
side, then left side again, while I crouched there,
ass totally exposed to the onslaught, able only to
thank him, protest my total inferiority to him, and
beg him for more.

THWACK!!!!

"Ten!  Thank you sir!  I deserve nothing more than to
be your slave because my dick is so much tinier than
yours, sir!  Please sir, may I have another sir!"

THWACK!!!!!

"Eleven!!  Thank you sir!!  I am pleased to serve you
because you are a big jock athlete on two teams, and I
am a worthless fuck-up who can't even do push-ups!
Please sir, may I have another sir!"

THWACK!!!

"AHHHH!!!  Twelve!!  Thank you sir!!  I am tied up at
the foot of your bed because I could never dream of
joining your frat and am only worthy to lick the sock
lint from between your sweaty toes!   Please sir, may
I have another sir!"

THWACK!!!!!!!

"Aghhhhh!!  Thirteen!  Thank you sir!!  I know that
you are well-known all around campus, whereas I am
just a lowly no-name pervert no one has ever heard of!
 Please sir, may I have another sir!"

By the time I had gone past 50, the pain was so
blindingly severe that I couldn't think straight.  I
couldn't think of what to say, or how else to proclaim
my lowliness.  My ass had gone completely numb with
agony, and yet still the spankings fell harder than
ever.  "I AM NOT WORTHY SIR!  I DESERVE THIS
PUNISHMENT SIR!" I howled.  I was shrieking so loudly
I was amazed I hadn't woken everyone up on our dorm
room floor by now.

Trevor paused.  "I know you're not worthy," he said.
"I know you deserve this punishment.  The trick is for
you to tell me why."
I felt my grip slipping.  "I DON'T KNOW SIR!  I DON'T
KNOW SIR!"

"Well, try very hard to know, unless you want me to
start over from scratch," Trevor said
matter-of-factly.

THWACK!!!!!!!

"FIFTY-FIVE!!!!  THANK YOU SIR!!!!  YOU SWING THAT
PADDLE SO MUCH HARDER THAN I EVER COULD THAT IT ONLY
SHOWS HOW PATHETICALLY WEAK I AM COMPARED TO YOU
SIR!!!!  PLEASE SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER SIR??"

THWACK!!!!!

"AGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!  FIFTY-SIX SIR!!!!  THANK YOU
SIR!!!!!   THE FACT THAT I EVER THOUGHT I COULD
DISOBEY YOU ONLY SHOWS HOW INDESCRIBABLY STUPID I AM
AND HOW I DESERVE TO GROVEL AT YOUR FEET FOR AS LONG
AS IT PLEASES YOUR SIR!!!  NOW THAT YOU'VE PADDLED ME
56 TIMES AND ARE MORE THAN HALFWAY DONE, PLEASE PLEASE
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU SIR I
ABSOLUTELY BEG YOU PLEASE STOP I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE MY
ASS IS ON FIRE."  I was sobbing now.  "PLEASE SIR MAY
I HAVE ANOTHER SIR."

Trevor chuckled sadistically from behind me.  "You
call that begging?  You're gonna have to try much
harder than that."  He took an unusually long wind up
this time.

THWAAAAACKKKK!!!!  Trevor's stroke was somehow even
harder, even more savage.  I cried out.

"FIFTY-SEVEN!  THANK YOU SIR!!!  PLEASE SIR!!!! PLEASE
STOP AND I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU ANYTHING I DON'T
CARE WHAT I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU."  I gasped between
sobs.

A silence.  "Well, what do you say?" Trevor demanded
impatiently.
I gritted my teeth.  "PLEASE SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER
SIR??"

"I don't know," Trevor said thoughtfully.  "You want
me to just stop paddling you?  But I'm having so much
fun.  Why should I?"

THWAAAACKKKKK!!    Each stroke seemed to fall harder.
I writhed in pain, trying in vain to free myself from
the bondage of the coffee table.

"FIFTY-EIGHT!!! THANK YOU SIR!!! PLEASE SIR I AM
BEGGING YOU YOU CAN MAKE ME DO ANYTHING YOU WANT
ANYTHING AT ALL!!  PLEASE SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER SIR."

"Anything?" Trevor said thoughtfully.  "You mean that,
anything?  You'll do anything I tell you to, for the
entire rest of the year, no questions asked?"

"YES SIR WITHOUT HESITATION SIR!!  JUST PLEASE STOP
THE PADDLING I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE OF IT SIR I CAN'T!"

"See, that's where you're wrong," said Trevor.  "In
fact, you can.  Just watch."

THWACKKKKK.

""OH GOD!!! FIFTY-NINE SIR.  THANK YOU SIR!!!  OF
COURSE YOUR RIGHT SIR I AM YOUR BITCH BOY YOUR FOOT
STOOL YOU HAVE COMPLETE CONTROL OVER ME THERE IS
NOTHING YOU CAN'T DO TO ME I WAS WRONG TO SAY I
COULDN'T TAKE ANYMORE WHAT I MEANT IS THE PAIN IS
UNBEARABLE PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON ME SIR!!!"  A pause.
"PLEASE SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER SIR?"

"I'm confused," Trevor said.  "You keep begging me to
stop, but then you keep begging for another spanking.
Which is it?"

"I WANT YOU TO STOP SIR!!!"

He sighed.  "Oh alright . . . fine."  A pause.  "After
the grand finale . . . be sure to count these"

THWAAACK!!!!   THWAAACK!!!  THWAAACK!!!!  THWAAACK!!!!

I screamed at the top of my lunges.  "SIXTY-ONE SIR!!!
 SIXTY-TWO SIR!!!  SIXTY-THREE SIR!!!  SIXTY-FOUR
SIR!!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEEEEEAAAAASSE STOP
SIR!!!!"

To my enormous relief, Trevor finally set the paddle
down, balancing it squarely on my flat tied down back.
 He came back around to the front of the table, still
wearing only his t-shirt, into my range of view, and I
could see he had a raging hard-on; he obviously had
enjoyed my punishment.

"Dude," he said, grinning.  "I wish you could see how
red your ass is right now."

He bounded nimbly up onto the coffee table, then sat
down directly in front of me.  He was straddling my
body, so that his long, tanned, muscle-toned athletic
legs were stretched out on either side of my torso,
and his crotch was directly in front of my face.  He
squeezed my body between his legs, and put his bare
feet up so they were resting on the backside of my
burning ass.

"That was fucking awesome," Trevor was saying.  "Now,
I've got a special little treat for you faggot --
here's what I want you to do.  I'm horny as shit.  I
am gonna sit here and whack off, while you lick my
hairy, sweaty balls with your tongue.  Then, you are
gonna take my cock in your mouth, you are gonna
swallow it all the way, and you are gonna suck on it
like the little fucking cocksucker you are.  You are
gonna swallow my entire enormous cock -- you gotta take
the whole fucking shaft.  And if, when I shoot my
enormous load, I choose to shoot it in your mouth, you
are gonna swallow every last drop.  And keep the
paddle balanced on your back while you do it -- don't
let it fall, or else."  He was already starting to rob
his cock with his right hand.  I hastily began to lap
at his balls.

"Remember, I stopped the paddling 20 short.  If you
fuck any of this up," Trevor was saying, "or if you in
any way don't give me the perfect blowjob I deserve,
I'm gonna finish up where I left off."



Trevor sat there for ten minutes, moaning softly as he
yanked up an down on his cock, with me licking his
hairy smelly balls, before finally shoving his ramrod
erect eight inch cock into my mouth.  I almost gagged
on it, but I managed to take the whole thing down my
throat.

He rocked back and forth, shoving his cock in and out
of my mouth, savagely grunting with pleasure as he
face fucked me.  Despite the intensity of the pain I
still felt shooting through my ass, I was still
totally hard.  Maybe not quite as hard as Trevor, but
still definitely hard.

I hadn't sucked a whole lot of cock before, but I
definitely had some experience, and I'm told I'm
pretty good.  I moved my tongue around, lapping at
Trevor's dick while he plunged in and out of me, which
seemed to drive him wild.  Trying to stretch it out as
long as possible, he made me stop several times, then
continue, sucking and lapping at his cock with renewed
vigor each time.

He made the whole thing last half an hour.  Finally,
gasping, he announced: "oh, fuck.  I'm gonna come."

I prepared to swallow it all, absolutely terrified of
Trevor's threat that he would paddle me more if I
screwed up.  But at the last minute, Trevor pulled out
of my mouth and held his cock directly in front of my
face.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuckkkkkk," he moaned.

Cum spurted from his cock head like a firehose.  He
shot once, twice, three times, four times . . . each
time showering my face in a waterfall of cum.  It
drenched my hair, my lips, my nose, my cheeks -- I was
dripping with it.  By the time he had drained himself,
there was so much cum that a pool of it had collected
on the coffee table where it was running off my face.

Trevor sat there, panting for a while.  Finally, he
got up off the table.  I was afraid he was going to
say that since I hadn't swallowed his cum (even though
I couldn't possibly have) he was going to paddle me
some more.  But he didn't -- instead, he rubbed his
cock on the back of my head a few times, using the
only dry part of my hair to clean a few last drops of
cum from his cock.  Then, sighing with satisfaction,
he ambled over to his closet and his desk, casually
putting a few things away.  He ignored me completely --
I didn't dare to say a word.

He stripped his T shirt off, threw it in the dirty
laundry, and then pulled on a new pair of tight boxer
briefs.  My eyes followed him as he ambled into the
bathroom -- our dorm room had its own small bathroom.
I could hear him brushing his teeth.

What time was it anyway?  I had lost track of time
completely, but now that I thought about it I realized
it was still Thursday, though by now it must be pretty
late -- probably well after midnight.  I realized, all
of a sudden, that I was exhausted.  Much more
urgently, however, I was beside myself with horniness.
 I had spent most of the day locked in a trunk, then
tied up naked, then put on a leash and made to
reorganize the furniture in the room to Trevor's
liking, then chained to his chair made to serve as his
foot stool for hours and lick his feet clean, then as
punishment for being a bad foot stool been ordered to
do pushups, then as punishment for THAT been tied
spread eagle into this fiendishly uncomfortable
position at the foot of Trevor's newly expanded bed
and been paddled until my ass was raw with pain and I
had groveled for mercy, and then finally sucked Trevor
off to orgasm, and now had a face full of cum.
Through it all, I had been almost fully erect, and an
ever growing load had been building up in my balls.
Now it was begging to be released.  My ass still
smarted horribly, and my whole body was sore from
having been tied down in this position -- my balls in
particular, with the leash connected to my neck still
wrapped tightly around them, were killing me.  But
worse than all of that was my desperation to stroke my
aching cock, and my totally inability to do so.

Trevor finally remerged from the bathroom, a towel
slung around his neck (I guess he had washed his
face).  He had his shower flip-flops on, but he kicked
them off, and tossed the towel to the side, then
climbed into bed.

"I'm gonna hit the sack now, foot stool," he said with
a yawn.

I looked up at him, my face still coated with cum.  I
knew it was a bad idea, but I asked anyway.  "Please
sir . . . I know as your footstool I have no right to
ask this sir . . ." I blubbered pathetically,  "and I
appreciate your mercy so much sir, but I was wondering
if you might maybe consider untying me for the night .
. . sir."

"Nope," Trevor said shortly.  He smirked.  He seemed
to be reading my mind.  "Anything else?"

Trevor seemed to be in an indulgent mood -- or as
indulgent as he was every likely to be -- so I pressed
my luck.  "Sir, can I humbly ask to . . .  er . . . to
be allowed to cum, sir?"

He snickered.  "Oh, you poor fag.  You're begging me
to let you cum?  That's the most fucking pathetic
thing I ever heard of."  He cocked his head to one
side.  "Well, not quite," he amended.  "The most
pathetic thing I ever heard of was begging to cum, and
not being allowed to."  He reached for the lamp and
switched it off.  "Goodnight, slave."

There was a silence for a minute, uninterrupted except
for the sound of chirping crickets outside our dorm
window.  But even then Trevor was not through
tormenting me.  A moment or two later, as my eyes
adjusted to the dark, he stretched his long legs all
the way out, so that they once again protruded over
the edge of the bed and onto the coffee table,
sticking his huge feet directly in my face for at
least the fourth time that day.  "Hey bitch," he
instructed in a low voice, "while you try to ignore
your aching little dick, before I drift off to sleep
in my new King size bed, I want you to know how truly
amazing it felt to blow my wad like that . . . to
shower your little cocksucking face with cum."

He suddenly pushed his body slightly forward in his
bed, so that the massive soles of his smooth feet were
rubbing up against my cum-covered face.  The smell of
cum mixed with the manly scent of his still unshowered
feet.

"Lick my feet clean, bitch," Trevor whispered.  "Lick
my cum from my feet, and don't even think about
stopping until you've swallowed every last drop."

I did.  As he rubbed his feet all over my face,
mashing them around until the soles of his feet were
wet with milky, sticky cum, my overworked tongue
lapped his feet like a dog, swallowing the warm sticky
goo drop by drop.  It only made me more desperate to
stroke my own cock -- so desperate to stroke it that I
could hardly see straight.

"Mmmmm, that's right," Trevor murmured, rolling over
happily in his bed but continuing to press his feet up
against my face.  "Keep licking my cum-coated feet
until it's all gone.  Sweeeet."  He yawned.  "I'll
seeya in the morning, boy.  Sleep tight."


Story to be continued, hopefully soon.  I like hearing
from readers.  Drop me a line at greg_alexander222@yahoo.com
if you like my work, or for ideas on how to proceed.