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Dark Mistress 6 - Recharged
- Details
- Category: Dark Mistress
- Published: 05 March 2019
- Written by Fauler Hoyt
- Hits: 532
No one Bridget knew encountered her before she got to the room. She might not have noticed the difference. She couldn't focus on anything but Nyxe's soft touches and squeezes through her clothing.
She fumbled with her key for a second. When she leaned over to place it, the blouse pressed against the front of her tits. She bit her lip and slid the key into its hole, turning it as the pressure against her soft mounds slid around to the sides and squeezed them together.
Nyxe's ever present touch was wonderful. Over the course of her walk here, Bridget realized she could trust her magically-imbued clothes to let her mind wade through the sensations. Bridget's sleeve helped her swing the door open. In one graceful motion, her right leg lifted and spun her into the room, and she threw the door shut behind her. Her pants moved her body in front of the chair at her desk, and she instinctively grabbed the small plastic arms as her rear was pulled back into the seat.
"Get out a piece of paper—I need you to write a little note." Bridget pulled out some stationery. When she had a pastel gel-pen at the ready, Nyxe dictated a brief note. Bridget copied the bubbly letters onto the paper until Nyxe was finished.
"Anything I sign it with?" Bridget asked.
"No. It's perfect just like that. Now fold it up." After three folds at the half, Bridget's shoes planted and pushed her chair away from the desk. She couldn't help but squeak a little when her pants stood her up again—she could feel the anticipation in Nyxe's motions. "Now I know there's a shoebox under here," Nyxe said, walking Bridget next to her bed. Bridget gasped as her pant legs bent at the knees. Expecting to land on the laminated cement of the dorm floor, she put her arms out in front of her.
Her knees didn't hit. Instead, she was impossibly suspended on the toes of her shoes for a split second before her pants gently set her knees down. "Come on, Bridget. Don't you trust me yet?" Bridget's sleeves pulled her arms down in front of her.
"I do, but--" She relaxed her torso, no longer tensing against the shirt. Her sleeves moved toward the floor, and she placed her hands against the concrete, looking under the bed. "I just reacted. I didn't think you were going to let me hit—my body did." The hips of her pants swished her butt back and forth a couple times before the delicious sting of an invisible palm rang through her backside.
"No worries. I'm going to give your body every reason to trust me. Grab that box." Bridget smiled and did as she was told. When she pulled it out from under the bed, she pulled the top off to reveal glossy white heels. "Those are yours, are they?"
Bridget's eyes fluttered shut. Nyxe's question was accompanied by what felt like a finger, tracing itself down the center of Bridget's derriere and straight between her legs, continuing toward her clit. She finally managed what sounded like an affirmative response.
"Good taste," Nyxe laughed. "I'll keep them in mind for later. I'll bet they accentuate your favorite attention getter, don't they?" Bridget let out a little laugh, and she felt another quick slap on her ass. "Take them out of there." Bridget pulled the glossy shoes out and set them on the ground, half-expecting them to come to life. "Soon enough I'll be able to do things like this myself, but I don't want to risk it until I have them in place. Now grab that box and leave the rest to me."
When Bridget did, her body was gracefully lifted into a standing pose. One of her sleeves extended the shoebox out in front of her.
"Got the note?" Nyxe asked. The pair of pink-and-white sneakers from Ms. Heyver's house had already leapt up to Bridget's desk. One of the laces coiled around the note and stuffed it inside the shoe.
"All set," the shoes sang back in a sweet register. They leapt off the desk, hopped onto the back of Bridget's chair and leapt into the box. Bridget fumbled with it a bit.
"Don't drop me, mizz booty." The shoes situated themselves in the box. "What's the girl like, mistress? As fun as Tiff and Gwen?"
"You'll see," Nyxe said. "Just follow my directions. Nothing vocal until--"
"She already suspects it," The footwear answered, wiggling around in the box. "I got it, I got it." Just as Bridget was about to ask a question, her slacks spun her about as a blouse sleeves reached her free hand out for the box-top. "Graceful," the pink shoes said.
"Thanks," Bridget and Nyxe responded in unison, forcing a laugh out of both of them afterward. Bridget grabbed the top and let the rest of her body loose, trusting Nyxe to right her. There were always surprises when Nyxe navigated Bridget's body, but there were no jerking motions or uncomfortable twists. As Bridget and Gwen both noticed earlier, Nyxe's occupation of their outfits was almost like an intangible person occupied a negligible amount of space between the clothes and their skin. Once they were used to her control, their motions became natural, but flowing—almost like a dance that Nyxe herself was leading. Bridget placed the top over the shoebox.
"Later, mizz booty," came the muffled voice from behind the cardboard. Bridget sneered at the flirtacious footwear.
"Later, sneakers." Bridget placed the box under her arm—not entirely of her own accord—and opened her dormitory door when Nyxe extended her striped sleeve toward it.
"Gwen just passed the room," Nyxe said to Bridget. "Yarmouth 3018."
"Yarmouth?" Bridget frowned, shutting the door. "They stick all the music and drama weirdos in there. Are you sure you picked the right person?"
"Picked the right person for what, B?" The shrill voice put both Nyxe and Bridget into momentary shock, but thanks to the human tendency to tense up under pressure, Bridget had no problem taking over her balance. Standing across from her was a mess of bobbed black hair and too much eyeliner.
"Oh--Chelsea. Hi, Chelsea." Bridget wasn't sure, but she swore she felt a sub-tonal groan coming from her outfit. Chelsea was kind of socially inept and a bit nosy, but Bridget found her kind of endearing. She'd
"Hey, B." The pencil-darkened slits narrowed. "Who ya talking to?"
"Phone call." The response from Bridget came quick and shallow. She tried to act fast, cupping her free hand over one ear and mouthing the words again in a silent echo to Chelsea. Phone call.
Sorry, Chelsea mouthed back. Bridget smiled at her and waved as her outfit turned her down the hall toward the stairs.
"But seriously, you know what I'm saying, don't you?" Bridget continued, corroborating her cover up by continuing her phone call as she headed into the stairwell. "I think your mark is totally dull. At least tell me why you're so stuck on her." Bridget started down the stairs, feeling her toes dance down each step without her effort. Once Bridget well away from the door to the hall, Nyxe spoke.
"Talking to me right in front of her?"
"Now you're the one who needs to trust me," Bridget snickered. "How long were you trapped again?"
"Fifteen years."
"These days we pretty much all have cell phones. Some of us just wear these little things in our ears—that's how I got away with that. Are you going to answer my question?"
"No," Nyxe said. "I'm not." Still skipping down the stairs, Bridget felt her blouse exaggerating the bounce of her chest after each step. It wasn't long before the lifting and dropping changed into complex dimples on the surface of her tits, outlining a set of slender fingers pressing and contracting, playing around her curves.
Three flights up, Chelsea tried to make sense of it. Why'd Bridget switch to a speakerphone? And who was trapped for fifteen years?
Bridget walked through the third floor of Yarmouth hall, pulling the box out from under her arm. 3030...3028...3026...
"No knock," Nyxe's voice dripped just outside Bridget's ears. 3022... "Just drop the box when I lean you to the ground." Bridget nodded as she passed the door to 3020. She mentally prepared herself for Nyxe's acrobatics just before her body arced and twisted in a motion toward Sarah's door. She let go of the box a little soon, and the momentum sent it sliding to the side of the door frame. Bridget's outfit sent her back to her feet, and her shoes marched her forward, double-time. An anxious whisper came from her collar. "Hang on, Brij!" Bridget couldn't help but notice how soft her footfalls were, despite her boost of speed. 3010, 3008, 3006...
Nyxe turned Bridget around the corner to the stairwell a few seconds before the a click came from the door of room 3018. Sarah's black hair was untied—slightly messy and framing her face. She stared down at the black shoebox suspiciously. After a look down both sides of the hall, she crouched with the box at arm's length. She reached out and lifted the lid like she was handling nitroglycerine. It gave like a regular box top—no strings or triggers for springy snakes and confetti bombs.
It was probably a strange thing to do—but so was sliding a box next to the door and disappearing... down the hall? If it was from someone nearby, they shut their door carefully. Sarah picked up the box and pulled the top off. Sneakers. Pink sneakers. She shut her door and sat on her bed, putting the shoebox down next to her. She grabbed one of the sneakers and examined it.
Were they used? There wasn't really any wear on them, and the trim and laces were still gleaming white. A little evidence of scuffing on the bottom, but when she looked inside, she could still see the rubberized stamp showing the size on the insole. No wear there, at all. And even more importantly...
"Six-and-a-half." Her size. Cute sneakers in her size? She lifted the tongue and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Mystery solved...or not. She sneered when she read the single sentence on the note.
I think we're your size.
"Yeah, got it," Sarah murmured. She went through the possibilities. Six-and-a-half was on the small side, but not so exceptionally rare that it was impossible for someone to have made a mistake. She held the tongue back and lifted her foot out of a black puffy slipper. She slid the baggy denim up her leg, revealing striped socks that went well beyond the ankle.
And oh, they were her size. Surfaces meshed like a perfect kiss, and when she pulled the laces tight, she was convinced that they were the most comfortable sneakers she'd ever worn. And then...
She snapped out of it. Who gave her these things? If they were a gift, was this sweet, or creepy?
Standing up made her forget the thought just as quickly. One foot felt as if were on gossamer--the other, a foam sponge. Creepy gift or not, she had to try the other one on. She sat back on the bed and kicked off her other black slipper. She leaned over and grabbed the other shoe.
The new shoe scent wasn't apparent—there was a gentle presence of perfume instead. She thought it could've been the box before, but she pinpointed it upon examining the second shoe. It was understated, and more seductive than flowery. Intentional. It had to be. This scent couldn't possibly have been worn in to the shoes.
Okay, so it was leaning toward gift. I think we're your size. A gift from someone with a playful sense of humor and a damned good sense of size. She squinted at her slippers. Her size was as easy as seeing a slipper or a shoe laying around.
As she went over the list of guys that had hung out in the room, she realized there were a couple possibilities. She wasn't a pledge or a big partier—but being a ruthless gamer still brought her a healthy strain of popularity. There were a couple friends of friends, but no one she had in mind.
Someone put time into this. Thought. Detail. Someone went well out of their way to get her attention, and they used shoes to do it. Someone knew her well. She stared at the sneaker, her fingertips tingling against the heel liner and sole. She shook her head, held the sneaker away from her and took a deep breath.
Where the things drugged? What the hell was so exciting about them? Was it that it seemed like someone got them just for her? Was it just the way the first fit on her, evenly hugging every square inch of...
"Ridiculous." She tried to make herself think so, but even saying it aloud wasn't enough. There was psychological anticipation—and physical tension—building in her. Maybe it was everything: the intoxicating scent, the perfect fit, the possibility behind the gift giver...she-just-wanted-the-other-one-on. She slid her baggy pant leg up, licked her lips and let out a nervous laugh.
She could figure out why all this was happening later—after the sneaker was on. She pulled the tongue back and slipped her foot inside. A slow crescendo of relaxation went over her. She drew the laces back, and her nimble fingers worked the two ends into two loops, tightening against each other's tension. Her hands fluttered over to the other sneaker and finished tying them.
Unbelievable. It was a glass slipper kind of fit. She rocked heel to toe on them. Perfection. She stepped in front of the full-length mirror against the inside of the door. A bit of pink atop the toe-box barely peeked out from under her baggy jeans. That was kind of a shame.
There were only 20 minutes left until class. Time enough to change, but she had to do it now. She stepped toward her closet, but second-guessed herself. Showing the sneakers off RIGHT after they were mysteriously given to her might be a little much. At the same time, she didn't want to take them off. Maybe the baggy jeans were perfect.
She looked at herself in the mirror, moved her hair around a bit and smiled. She looked okay. Keep the outfit, let the hair down. If someone was really paying attention, that would be change enough. She turned around and looked over her shoulder as she stepped forward. The pink and white flashed out from under the blue denim cuffs when she walked. Perfect.
She walked to her desk and took her backpack. Before she went out the door, she flashed herself a smirk in the mirror. New sneakers needed to be broken in. She'd take the long way to class.
They were every bit as comfortable as they seemed. She took the path though the campus to her next class, trying not to draw extra attention to her mysteriously gifted sneakers by constantly looking down. Unfortunately, as she was rounding a corner, looking down is exactly what she was doing. At exactly the same time, another student heading the other direction on a bike was texting a roomie to meet him for lunch.
Even if he wasn't playing with his phone, he would've barely had time to see her. He shouldn't have been riding so close to the building on the walking path to begin with, and he knew it. If he hit her, it would be all his fault—but he was too close. Even flying over the handlebars couldn't save her.
Still, in the world of split-second decisions, his body reacted as best it could to avoid the collision. He leaned right. With his free hand, hit the only brake he could: the front.
The sound of the approaching bike was enough to bring her head up, but by the time the brake's howl sounded, she had already thrown her body into motion.
No, she hadn't. She shut her eyes. She was waiting for the worst to happen. But she was moving. Quickly. She opened her eyes again when she felt her own body weight heaved forward and thrown to the side. She put an arm out to break her fall, but like lightning her other foot planted in front of her. She ended up in a half-crouch, one of her hands at the ground to steady her body.
The biker wasn't as lucky, but his tumble could've been worse. He landed in the grass, just off the path. He tore a short streak of grass and mud as his phone tumbled in the other direction.
Sarah stood upright and adjusted her backpack. She didn't get hit. Not only that—but she didn't even dive into the grass to dodge the bike rushing up on her. Was he okay?
"Are you okay?" Said a concerned, slightly raspy baritone behind her. She turned around to see a guy in a grass-stained hoodie and jeans getting off the ground and brushing himself off. And she'd been staring at her shoes the whole time. It was her fault.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Sarah stepped over to the phone and picked it up. The guy picked his bike up and brushed his brown hair away from his smiling face. Sarah smiled back at him. "Are you okay?"
"Don't apologize. I shouldn't have been on the path that close around the corner. Then I had my phone, and..." He looked her over. She was cute, but she didn't really dress like she knew it. "Seriously, you're okay? I thought for sure I was going to hit you!"
"Still standing." She wouldn't admit that she didn't know exactly how that was. "How about your bike?" He lifted the back tire up and pushed the pedal. The wheel spun free, and he dropped the tire again.
"Looks like I'm good--outside of breaking out the stain remover." He laughed. Sarah smiled back at him. "Sorry to scare the crap out of you. Good thing you've got cat-like reflexes." Without meaning to, she looked down at her feet and pulled back her pant legs just enough to see the bright sneakers. "Hey, fancy footwear."
"Thanks. Good traction too, I guess." Both of them laughed. "I gotta get to class, though—sorry again for running into you."
"Hey, like I said: my fault. Don't apologize." He flashed a grin at her one more time before he stuffed his phone in his pocket. "See you again, probably. Not so close to the building next time, I promise." He took off on his bike, and Sarah chuckled to herself as she continued toward class.
He only had a phone in his hand the whole time. You didn't think to give him your number? At first, Sarah thought someone whispered it to her, but it was so quiet—so subtle. Plus there was no one near her. Outside the stray guy on the bicycle the path was empty, at least until the classes in the hall let out.
He was kind of cute--maybe she was sub-consciously trying to tell herself something. Or maybe it was the sneakers. All of a sudden she had an ego; maybe getting a silly gift was really going to her head. Of course she didn't think to give him her number. Dismount a guy from his bike and win his heart? She sneered. Is that how it works?
But it didn't end there. She played the moment through her head again and again while she spent the class daydreaming. How was it that she didn't get hit? That front tire seemed right on top of her when she finally looked up.
He did crash, but even so, her landing—pulling her foot under her to catch her balance right after she leapt out of the way—that seemed impossible to her. And the leap? She didn't even remember making the leap. In her memory it felt a lot more like a slide than a leap, but she couldn't be sure. What she was sure of was that she had given up. She had closed her eyes and expected to be hit, and a second later she was out of harm's way, crouched over the ground and untouched. How did that happen?
The more she thought about it, the more she certain she became that she had a memory of being pushed—or pulled—out of the way of her collision course with the bike. Every couple of minutes, she looked under the little fold-out desk at her pink-and-white sneakers.
She'd chalked most of the last hour up the charisma of the shoes, especially in virtue of the way she received them. The flood of emotions at the beginning? She'd never gotten such a random gift before, let alone one so perfect for her. Nothing strange about that. Obsessing over them from the time she left the dorm room? See number one. They were adorable sneakers, and they were soooo comfortable. Worth making a fuss over.
The sidewalk? Admittedly a little strange, but certainly not impossible. It was a split-second reaction, and she was just over-thinking it after the fact. Her body obviously did what it needed to in order to get her out of harm's way, even if her head didn't have time to assign a story to it. Nothing weird about that.
That only left the voice. It wasn't as easy as telling herself it was in her head. She already had an inner monologue. It was running all the time, assessing cursory details and helping her plan what to say—and it certainly didn't come up with things like this:
He only had a phone in his hand the whole time. You didn't think to give him your number?
Those two sentences interrupted that usual inner voice, and it wasn't a thought interrupting another thought. She knew the difference; this was something she heard.
She was still thinking about it after class, but on her way home she was determined to keep her eyes in front of her. No more amnesiac ninja bike dodging. She took the path straight back to her building, keeping her eyes open. Before long, she noticed she was moving at a pretty heavy stride.
It didn't feel like she was rushing—she hadn't broken into a jog, and she wasn't forcing herself forward on her toes. She was navigating around people effortlessly--picking paths without really picking them. She couldn't explain it. Part of her wanted to stop walking for a second, but the campus was bustling with people, and she was making good time.
When she got back to her building, she walked right by the elevator and headed toward the stairwell at the end of the hall. She took the first two floors a step at a time, but by the end of the second landing, she felt like she was running. She leapt up every other step on the next two flights, rounding the first landing before she even realized she was doing it. She didn't want to stop. She felt full of energy as she hit the last floor, and on the last three steps, Sarah gasped as she leapt onto the final landing.
Even though she was already at the top, she grabbed the railing. Maybe it was a precaution. She put one of her legs out in front of her enough to see a sneaker. Weird. Why did she just hit the staircase like a firefighter in training? She took a couple seconds to compose herself. Once she was convinced she still had control over her own feet, she entered the hall and headed toward her room.
She pulled out her keys as she approached the door, but her legs continued down the hall past her door. As soon as Sarah was about to react, she stopped. Her door was ten feet in the other direction now. She looked down at her shoes and had to hold herself back from saying anything aloud. She headed back to her door and jammed the key in the door. The first thing she saw when she got back into her room was the note on her desk.
I think we're your size.
The note wasn't written from an admirer. It was written from the shoes themselves. After the day she had, it seemed less like a cute attempt at anonymity and more a literal declarative. For lack of a better way of saying it, the shoes had a mind all their own.
She walked over to her bed to take them off. Just as she tried to sit down, she felt her foot pulled out in front of her, away from the bed. Her body weight swung forward. As soon as her foot planted, the other came from behind her in a semicircle, spinning her a half-turn. Without even trying, she ended up against the wall opposite her bed, upright and feet together.
It was just like the bike dodge, but this time she was aware of it. As her mind tried to process what happened, she let out what she held back earlier.
"There's something to you, isn't there?" She looked down at her feet. At this point, addressing her new footwear didn't seem so strange. She waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. She held her breath and took a step toward her bed. Nothing.
She sat on the bed with no resistance this time, but when she leaned over to untie the laces on her left shoe, her foot hopped to the side. She gasped and sat back.
Too many weird things to deny. Weird sneakers show up. Make her feel giddy. Save her from crashing into a bike that was almost certainly going to hit her. Whisper to her? Write a note to her? Make her feet move around while she's in them?
Crazy person stuff, right? Sarah was determined to take the shoes off already and prove it to herself. When she leaned over to untie her laces again, she pounced like a cat. No resistance. She pulled out the loops and untied the sneaker, pulling the sides open and loosening the laces. No rush to take it off. Get the other one untied.
After the sneakers were no longer snugly wrapped around her feet, she laughed. She was fooling herself. She pulled off the left sneaker and set it on the floor. As she reached for the right, it hopped to the side, the same as the left had before.
So her muscles were jumpy. Or her feet were revolting. Or the shoes were magic. This time the hop only surprised her for a second—her determination won through. As she snatched the right shoe and lifted her heel, the back of the shoe bent up, sliding right back over her heel--almost holding itself on. As she tried to pull against it, she was thrown off balance. She lifted her left foot into the air and felt something slide over it.
Letting go of her right shoe, she looked over at her left foot. It was in the sneaker again. She regained her balance and planted her foot on the ground. Her mouth hung open. At this point, she was convinced even Occam would've shrugged and told her the sneaker jumped onto her foot.
There was no other explanation.
She leaned in to take a close look at the left sneaker. She squinted at it and slowly lifted the laces up. After a cursory inspection, she pulled them tight again. When she did, both sneakers went snug around her arches, the feathery cushions wrapping around her tighter. It took her a second to register that her pull seemed to transfer to both feet, and did a double take when she looked to her right. The other shoe was tied again, double-knotted this time.
"OKAY!" She threw her hands up. "You've got my attention. Now prove to me that my head's not just messing with me."
The two untied laces on her left foot stood straight up in the air. Electric danced up Sarah's spine when she saw it. It was really happening. She put a hand up to her mouth and watched the laces loop around each other into a starting knot. Two loops formed and the laces pulled tight again before they slid around each other, knotted and knotted again.
"What—what kind of sneakers are these?" Sarah felt her sneakers hop up and click their heels.
"Magic sneakers, babe," came a soft voice from under her. "And you haven't seen anything yet." Sarah put a few fingertips in her mouth and bit down. The things could talk? What kind of delusion was this?
"You're—" Sarah tried to mumble through her fingers. "You can—"
"Talk? Yes. I can talk, walk, run, and save your cute little piggies from everything from a runaway bicycle to a boring life." Sarah felt the toe-boxes of her sneakers gently squeeze the tips of her feet.
"That's not possible." Sarah muttered, more to herself than the apparently vocal footwear she had on.
"Oh, it isn't?" It was a playful, sweet, feminine voice. Odd as it seemed when Sarah had the thought—it was a voice that actually suited cute-yet-mischievous pink sneakers perfectly. "What's the explanation from the university scholar?"
A fair question for a delusion to ask its host, Sarah thought. Luckily, she had an answer right away, even if she didn't completely believe it.
"I'm dreaming." Sarah sputtered with an almost total lack of conviction. "I have to be, right?"
"I hope you're not asking me," The laces on both shoes untied and the shoes opened up, pulling themselves off of Sarah's feet and stepping forward without any feet in them. "Because honestly, if I dreamed about things like sitting through that class, I'd be afraid to fall asleep."
Now the sneakers were not only walking around the room without any feet in them, but they were poking fun at her. But they made a good point. Sarah remembered everything about her day. She remembered getting the sneakers. She remembered going to class. This couldn't be a dream.
"How do you...do that?" Sarah asked, watching the laces re-tie themselves as the sneakers circled back toward her. She leaned over to get a closer look.
"I told you, silly. Magic." The sneakers stepped in front of her and wiggled their toes. Sarah waved her hands around the sneakers. She didn't expect to find any strings or wires, but that didn't stop her—at this point she was trying to make sense of this in any way she could.
"Alright, so...why are you here?"
"Hmmm..." The sneakers rocked on their toes for a second while they formulated an answer. "A bunch of reasons, actually. First, you're something special. You don't realize it yet, but you've got talents you've never even imagined."
"Talents?" Sarah asked. "What kind of talents?" The sneakers giggled.
"Magic again, girl," The pink sneakers hit their heels together. "The same force that allows me to be my adorable little self is burning inside you—but you've never had a way to get to it. I'm here to change that." The sneakers untied just as before. The laces came loose and expertly spiraled around each other like thin nylon snakes until they were unknotted. The sneakers flipped around and landed right between her legs, oriented in the same direction as her feet. "Second, you've got the most darling, slender feet..." Honey dripped from the voice. There was infatuation there. Longing. "...I love the way they feel inside me."
Sarah looked down at the sneakers with wide-eyes. The sides pulled open and the tongue drew back. She felt silly saying it, but she liked the way her feet felt in the sneakers, too. They felt like they were made for her, and it seemed—at least by the way the sneakers spoke—that they had come to the same conclusion. Sarah had no reason to resist, except:
"I'm flattered," Sarah said, "and I don't want to seem ungrateful—but I just found out in the last half hour that Magic undeniably exists. So...given the fact that there are plenty of folk-lore stories involving temperamental pixies, djinn, witches, curses, hexes, and I could go on—how do I know for sure that you're—you know—one of the 'good guys'?"
"Well..." the sneakers turned around and faced her again. One of them lifted up, running its toe gently against the inside of Sarah's sock-covered ankle. "You're not just some dense, energy-blind human, Sarah. You spent part of the day with me. Did even one moment of it feel sinister?" A little distracted by the pink sneaker starting a game of footsie with her, Sarah thought about it.
She was enamored with these sneakers from the moment she opened the box, but she wasn't sure it was proof she wasn't getting in over her head here. Still, did even one moment of it feel sinister?
No. A resounding no. Even when Sarah didn't know these sneakers could walk and talk on their own; even when she suspected her feet were being directed by something outside her own mind and muscles. If that didn't settle it, what would? While she was a little nervous and giddy from the novelty of the whole situation, she trusted these things before they even said a word to her.
Her lower leg tingled as the sneaker toe worked its way under her pant leg, lifting it up and teasing the skin on the inside of her calf. They were flirty, they were cute, and they did take some extraordinary measures to prevent her from getting flattened by another bike-riding student. She shut her eyes, biting down on her lip a little. The sneaker toe was halfway up her calf, and Sarah couldn't help but let out a giggle.
"Alright—I'm usually not a very trusting person." Sarah lifted her foot unoccupied by the sneaker's teasing touch and traced her toe down the vamp of the other sneaker. "But I took all your little games in stride, even before I knew anything about what I was dealing with. That certainly means something." The enchanted footwear let out a swooning sigh as Sarah rubbed the front sole of her foot along the side of one of the sneakers. "So let's say I take up your offer to help me with my...talents. What happens next?"
"Next, I introduce you to some friends," the sneakers replied. The one being caressed by Sarah's foot turned to make itself more accessible.
"What kind of friends?" Sarah asked.
"A couple other girls kind of like you—but neither of them quite share your level of untrained talent..." The sneaker ascending her calf came back down and ran along Sarah's sock from ankle to toe. "or your wonderful, slender feet."
"And you're going to do what?" Sarah asked, her lower legs tingling from the interplay between her feet and the enchanted pink sneakers. "Train us?"
"Certainly—though it won't be me. I'm going to introduce you to the one who created me. She's a master of magic, and if you like what you've seen and felt so far," The sneakers purred, "this is just the beginning."
"So...when do I get to meet everyone?" Sarah asked. The sneakers flipped about again, opening their sides and pulling up their tongues.
"We can go right now," they replied. "Hop in. I'll take care of the rest." Sarah lifted her feet and started placing them inside the sneakers, but they jumped on her feet before she finished. When the laces rose up in front of her and pulled tight, she felt a feathery, floaty rush throughout her body. She watched the magic laces snake themselves back into loops. When they tied, there was a subtle, but certainly noticeable reaction sending warmth up her thighs and between her legs. She almost mentioned it, but she was pulled off the bed when her feet sprang forward.
"You ready?" The sneakers asked. Sarah's left toe tapped against the floor on its own.
"Lead the way," Sarah said. "And if you take the stairs, go easy on me, okay?"
The pink sneakers were tuning into Sarah when Bridget got back to her room. Gwen was laying on her bed, panting. Nyxe sat her up when the door opened. Both girls' faces were flushed.
"It's starting already," Nyxe said, excitement in her voice. "They haven't even revealed themselves to her, and already they're communicating."
"What do you mean by communicating?" Bridget asked. She felt a twinge of something hot and sharp on her ass; her living slacks had pinched her.
"For you two, it means I fulfill my promise of a reward." Nyxe walked Bridget's soft, curvy body over to her bed. Bridget tingled all over. Her pussy was still wet; Nyxe's subtle tactile navigation was teasing every square inch of her body since she left the room. She was bent over at the waist until her breasts and face were pushed against her pillow-top bed. Bridget felt fluttery. It was playtime.
She put her hands against the bed and tried to push herself back up, but her sleeves tugged against her, pulling her arms away from the bed. Bridget let out a laugh as her arms were pulled behind her. Phantom hands traced over her down her back and over her luscious ass, gripping her just before they reached her thighs. Bridget melted when something teased over her clit. She closed her eyes and imagined how far something like this could go. Restraints. Paddles. Suspension. She knew this was just the beginning. She knew that if she kept helping Nyxe, anything was possible.
Gwen watched Bridget with pleasure-glazed eyes while Nyxe pressed her tits together and danced over her nipples with her satiny blouse. She saw Bridget's hips wiggling back and forth, indentations appearing in the filled-out slacks where intangible fingers sank in and squeezed.
"Don't watch," Nyxe whispered to Gwen. Her eyes caught Bridget's paddle, hovering through the air toward her hand. The sleeve of her blouse extended, pulling her hand out to meet it. "Participate."
Gwen's mouth hung open a bit as she grasped the paddle. Nyxe had played with each of them before, but now Nyxe was sending her in to play with Bridget herself. Gwen's mind drifted over how the situation might end up as Nyxe walked her toward Bridget.
"Gwen's holding your paddle," Nyxe said to Bridget. "Tell her what you want." The invisible hands slid up the sides of her striped blouse, clearing the way for the impending paddle. Bridget's eyes lit up. There was no reason to hold back. This was Nyxe's show, and Bridget didn't want to disappoint. She could almost feel the warmth of Gwen's body standing behind her.
"Spank me, Gwen." Bridget's plea was half-muffled by the bedspread. The ghostly feminine hands moving up her sides shifted to the outside of her breasts and pressed them together. Gwen was either hesitating or didn't hear her, and the fingers tweaking her nipples caused Bridget to cry out again—to turn her head to the side and demand it. "Spank me, Gwen!"
It was what she needed to hear. Her roommate had just given her permission—had nearly ordered her to use the wooden paddle on the firm round targets wrapped in cream-colored slacks. One of her sleeves pulled her hand up to rest on the small of Bridget's back, and the other drew back, winding up her swing.
"Don't hold back, babe," Nyxe commanded quietly from the collar of Gwen's blouse. "Do a good job and I'll make her suck on your tits." Gwen could feel her cheeks blushing. Despite what happened with Tiffany (and Bridget, earlier that day), this was different. Nyxe was no longer satisfied by exploring the girls' bodies with her ethereal touch. She was leading them to a new level of play. She wanted them to explore each other.
The paddle came down on Bridget's backside with sweet, stinging force. Instead of the expected exclamation, a drawn out sound of satisfaction vibrated between Bridget's lips.
Gwen's sleeve pulled at her hand resting on Bridget's back, guiding it down over the curve she just smacked with the paddle. As her fingers were directed over the slacks, she took it upon herself to grab a handful. Bridget responded with laughter that shook down through her hips.
"You really do have a spankable ass, Brij," Gwen smirked, letting go as her hand was pulled aside by the sleeve again. The paddle pulled her other arm back, winding up to strike again.
It landed with a crack on the opposite side of her butt. This time Sarah let out a delighted shriek.
"Yeah!" Bridget turned back toward Gwen, her face painted with the naughty feedback on her mind. "Harder, like that last one. Like you mean it." Gwen couldn't help but giggle. They'd been pretty open with each other most of the semester, trading stories about relationships, flings, habits and quirks...still, she didn't expect to be standing over her roommate's bed, indulging in Bridget's favorite playful indiscretion—supernatural entity or not.
Gwen let the paddle guide her; still in her hands, it danced itself lightly over Bridget's cheeks, switching back and forth and giving each side a couple light taps before winding up and slapping a third time.
"Gooooood," Bridget purred. "So good. Keep going." Gwen continued teasing and smacking, and the actions came under her own volition more often. Every once in a while, her sleeve would shift her to a new area of her target. Sometime she'd feel the paddle guide her hand into another technique, showing her how best to push Bridget's buttons.
As the session went on, Nyxe's confidence in her power became more evident. Gwen didn't know exactly how long they'd been going when it happened, but when Nyxe made Bridget's outfit climb up onto her bed, Gwen positioned herself on the other side of Bridget and found herself staring at a pair of Bridget's blue cotton boy shorts.
They were filled out to Bridget's shape, leaning against the wall near her closet. They almost looked like they were watching intently. Was that possible? Or were they just an extension of Nyxe? Gwen decided she'd find out for herself.
When she beckoned them over with a finger, they moved away from the wall a bit, but they didn't bounce over to her. Nyxe laughed.
"Why hello, my lovely." They swayed back and forth in response to Nyxe's voice. "You're not being shy, are you?"
"I didn't want to interrupt anything," the boy shorts said, now catching Bridget's attention as well. "They look like they're having fun." A smile curled over Bridget's glossy lips. Those weren't just any underwear. They were the pair she was wearing the last time she got laid.
"We are having fun," Bridget said. "So join us." The shorts slinked over, mimicking a bodacious walk as the round blue forms in the rear tensed and bounced. Gwen eyes were pulled to the paddle. Her arm followed behind its motion as the paddle passed before her, preparing a backhanded strike.
The blue shorts turned on their last step toward Gwen, assuming the position. As the waistband bent away from her, Gwen saw the soft material stretch up between two invisible cheeks.
These sometimes-mutable, sometimes-tangible forms were such a mindfuck. The paddle lined up to hit the ghostly shape of the shorts. When the swing finally came, it wasn't the apparently empty fabric that the paddle hit, but rather the invisible form inside. The sound of the smack was every bit as resonant as when the paddle hit Bridget's reddened ass.
The force directing the paddle allowed Gwen's hand to drop to her side, and she reached up toward the shorts with her other hand, expecting it to pass through the leg-hole. She gasped when her fingertips landed on something soft, but firm.
"You like?" The boy shorts asked. "Go ahead, grab it." Gwen extended her fingertips again until they pressed against an unseen cheek. She ran her fingers over the silky smoothness of the invisible curve, working her way down to its edge, where it met a phantom thigh.
"Do—you have a whole body?" Gwen wanted to know, but she couldn't bring herself to wave her hand over the shorts to find out. Just then, she boy shorts spun around to face her. She felt something latch on to her wrist holding the paddle. She realized it was a hand when she felt the soft, slender fingers change grip. The broad wooden instrument was quickly plucked from her fingers, and the invisible hand at her wrist released her shortly after. The shorts took a step back, and the paddle followed with them.
"I have whatever I need to have," the shorts responded. "We already know Bridget's fond of this game," they continued, "but let's see how you take a little ass-blistering." A pause, then, "Would you care to do the honors, my queen?" Gwen understood who they were addressing well before her outfit threw her on the bed next to Bridget.
"Queen, huh?" Bridget asked, turning to the surprised Gwen. Nyxe danced Gwen's ass into the same position as Bridget's—as high as it could go and with optimal accessibility to the hovering paddle.
"Well, now that it's been mentioned...my official title is Governess," Nyxe said. "But 'Queen' works in a pinch." As soon as Nyxe delivered the word pinch, both girls felt a nip on their asses. For Gwen, the hot sear of the paddle came directly after. She let out a whimper.
"When do we get to really unleash on them?" The shorts asked. Gwen looked over at Bridget.
"Not yet," Nyxe said. "The other is on her way now, and she still needs to be...initiated." Bridget turned to Gwen's clothes, pointing a disappointed face at them in the assumption that it would make a difference.
"On her way? I thought you said we were getting our rewar—ooh!"
The wooden kiss came before she finished her sentence. The sleeves pulled her arms tighter behind her. The pull was like iron wrapped in velvet and down—comfortably unbreakable.
"In a couple of hours I'm going to have you begging me to slow down, sweetie." Nyxe's words had the shorts giggling. "My power is already twice as strong as when we met. When our guest arrives, it'll be two hundred times."
It was clear that the once-vulnerable force Gwen had agreed to assist was no longer on the verge of death...or whatever kind of non-existence an entity like Nyxe went through. It was time to clear on some details before she followed any further with the plan. Followed any further voluntarily, of course, for the difference it made. It was probably too late to break free even if she wanted to.
"What happens next, Nyxe?" Yeah. Nyxe. No titles. Ignore the invisible hands caressing your girls and what you swear feels like sweet, hot breath from the dampened crotch of your stockings. Like when it comes time to resist world domination, the fact that you never called her your queen is going to matter. Gwen's skirt pulled itself into the air again, and she let out a sigh. She couldn't kid herself. Resistance wasn't a plan her body was going to follow at this point.
She stuck her ass out in anticipation of the paddle's slap. It didn't hit yet.
"Do you think you know, my dear?" It was a shock of heat that danced up Gwen's spine now, through no stroke of wood against flesh. Could Nyxe read minds? Gwen turned to Bridget again. There was nothing but a soft smile, eyes closed in ecstasy, invisible hands and only Nyxe knew what else going on beneath her clothes.
"I know," Bridget whispered. "We have a bigger party." Nyxe and the shorts both laughed in response, and Gwen swore she heard the same reaction from both of their closets.
A series of little taps of the paddle danced across Gwen's ass, followed by a quick strike on each cheek. Her skirt swept back over her now-rosy butt, and she felt her body slide backward. Bridget's did the same, turning her around and sitting her on the bed.
"That's enough for now, girls." Nyxe said. "Our third nears." Gwen started to smooth out her blouse, but the tan sleeves went rigid. "You don't think I can take care of that?" The blouse tensed around Gwen's tits and ballooned out a second later. She looked down at the living blouse and cooed.
There was nothing to see on the surface, but she already knew the sensations were underneath the inflated satin blouse. There was a pair of ghostly lips over each nipple, teasing them. Gwen closed her eyes and drifted in the liquid silk dancing over her electric aureolae.
"What about me?" The shorts asked.
"You can stay," Nyxe said. "If they followed the plan—and it feels like they did—then she's already been talking to her shoes. The only new concept here would be your hovering. Just keep out of the way for a second."
The caressing from the girls clothes stopped. As both caught their breath and glanced up at each other, they heard a knock at the door. Before either could respond, the doorknob turned itself, and the door opened.
Sarah assumed they were expecting her. She didn't hear a word, and the door clicked open. She let the sneakers walk her straight into the room, and the door shut behind her.
"Girls, Nyxe—this is Sarah," the shoes said. Sarah smiled politely and waved, stopping when her eyes reached the floating blue boy shorts. Floating there on their own. With nothing supporting them. The shoes weren't kidding. There really were other supernatural things happening on this campus.
"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," said a syrupy voice that couldn't have come form the girl that approached her. Her lips weren't even moving.
"Nice to meet you too..." Sarah looked at Gwen, waiting for a name.
"Not me," The girl said, moving her lips and speaking in a different, more drifting tone. "Them." She gestured down, and her skirt billowed out.
"I'm Nyxe," the outfit said. "Gwen is wearing me, and Bridget's sitting on her bed." The girls acknowledged Sarah as Nyxe continued. "I suppose it would have been easier if Gwen changed out of me before being introduced, But I figured you could appreciate the feeling of wearing clothes that move on their own."
"Well, sure," Sarah said. "These shoes have been great, but—I can only imagine what a whole outfit would feel like." She turned to Bridget. "Are you wearing anything that talks?"
They were there. All three of them were there. But she couldn't get ahead of herself. Nyxe had to build this session organically—to let the girls build to rapture at their own exploration. Gwen was her savior, and by now she was the most reserved of the three. Bridget was a ready-made submissive, and the third could be trained to greater purpose. It was time to move forward.
Away from the campus, somewhere in suburbia, vibrations from 15 years ago echoed into the present, and they were getting stronger. Anabel could feel it—something was wrong.


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Let me tell you about my pet (apparently) chicken. Lisa is one of The Ladies, as they are collectively called. She provides us with delicious brown eggs that are good enough to eat! Seriously, folks, if you have any room at all and want to make a big change in the quality of eggs you're eating, buy a few chickens. I cannot believe how yummy a hard-boiled egg tastes from these free-range, clover munchin', bug chompin' ladies. What a difference!
But I digress. Back to Lisa. We had five chickens--two Ameraucanas (Fiona, Stella, and Edie) and two Golden Comets (Mattie and Lisa) . All too sadly, Mattie died last month. It was heartbreaking. I will readily admit that I cried -- a LOT -- for that chicken. And since then, Lisa has seemed a bit lonely. Like she knows the other three are of a different breed, and she doesn't really fit in. They all get along and all, but Lisa is a little bigger and is a different color (can chickens see in color?), and I just think she feels a little out of place.
Enter me, Lisa's new BFF. We let The Ladies out to free range every day for anywhere from 30-45 minutes. They love to have new turf to scratch up and they are tremendously entertaining to watch. Lisa has taken to following me around . . . and if I bend down, rather than running away as she used to (and as the others still do), she will sort of crouch and wait to be petted. It's awfully cute to see. After a few strokes she'll get up, ruffle herself, and join her buddies in the scratching and bug chasing. But she never gets too very far away from me.
Sidebar: I was telling a friend this heartwarming, or what I thought was heartwarming, story, and he commented thusly: "I dunno, sounds an awful lot like Lisa is going into a breeding crouch for you. Apparently you're her boyfriend."
I will continue to think that she views me as a sister, or cool best girlfriend, or something. I'm no one's rooster.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
1 comment:
LOL! Yep, that's a submissive pose. Don't worry, it still means she likes you. Just... not maybe in the way you THOUGHT she likes you.
We had a chicken catastrophe yesterday -- a dog broke into the chicken house and killed three of our six Girls. Very awful. I cried, too. I know how it feels.
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subset: commoncrawl


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The Others.
I watched this movie on my only trip to Andrew Norton's house. I ruined it for him and Ben, because I jokingly guessed the twist in the first 20 minutes or so. Andrew, are you out there somewhere? Anyone know where he might be? Last time we talked he was en route to the middle east. The e-mail addresses I had are bouncing back, but I'm hoping that's just because by now he should be home, discharged and doing something else.


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End of the month we are headed to Texas for my cousins wedding. Braden is the groomsman. My cousin has went to great lengths to include Braden in all aspects and even throwing his bachelor party at an arcade so Braden could go.
Anyway my son has it in his head that he is not going to wear the tuxedo. This morning he said "I think I would rather stand in front of the church naked than wear a tux"...that boy. So I see bribery coming into play...LOL.
Of course it might rank up there when Brittney was a flower girl age 5 and started making gagging noises when the bride and groom kissed and saying yuck yuck yuck.
I am thinking after a gagging flower girl and a nude groomsman we may not be asked to be in anymore weddings.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Should be an interesting wedding...
Posted by kel at 5:42 PM
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The #MPOWERment Blog
Her goal is to break people then put them back together – MMA Fighter Courtney Belcher
Courtney and her team, Team Rock Bottom, have been pressing hard for her to get back in the cage and boy has she been putting in the work! You know this woman is a champ when even though some of her prior fights were cancelled on her, she kept working. This girl knows that even if some chances drop out, there will be others and she has kept going. Her ever-increasing fan base and supporters have been snipping at the heels of other women heavyweight fighters and promoters calling them out to bring this rising star back and it looks like we are finally going to get what we've been hoping for. This November 10th Courtney (1-1) will be taking on Jeanette Barkers (3-0) at the Virginia Cage Fighting Championships – Roanoke Rampage. Courtney has not only been seriously losing some weight to help with her fight game, so much so in fact that people can't even recognize her from her last fight, but she and her team have been working hard on her weaknesses and have been putting in some serious time on her overall MIXED martial arts skills. Below is a recent interview done with Courtney by Hammered Pain that not only explains the title of this post, but will give you an idea of just how freaking kick ass this amazing woman is 🙂


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Best 5 Google Adsense alternatives which really gives you a lot
Normally,most of the bloggers want to earn money through the help of Google Adsense because it pay more.However Getting an Adsense account is not that easy,specially for a blog which is still new.It is really frustrating for new bloggers.In this case they need some alternatives of Adsense.If you already have an Adsense account then also you should test other Ad network for maximizing your profit.In this article,i will provide information about Best 5 Google Adsense alternatives which really gives you a lot.
Recommended Article–Killer tips to attract direct advertisers to your website
It is a new Ad publishing and Advertising network.The best part of this network is,it accepts any kind of website without checking its traffic.It means,if you have a blog or website then you can become its member without any issue.I have checked its status but failed to find even a single publisher who has been banned.They have a Paid Tweet program where you get paid to tweet an Advert.If you are a new blogger and your blog doesn't have much traffic then you must try it.
It is an Ad Publishing network which is owned by Yahoo,Bing and Microsoft.It is a real competitor of Google Adsense.Their Payout is $250 and they pay via Paypal and cheque.However you won't get its approval,if your blog/website doesn't have good traffic from countries like USA,UK,Canada.It is its major limitation.Except this,it has excellenet email support facilities which lacks in Google Adsense.
3- Chitika
Chitika is another great publisher network for new bloggers.I also love it because its minimum Payout is $10 via Paypal whereas $50 via cheque.Now it has introduced text link Ads which will increase your earning.However chitika lacks image ads.It means you can't display Image Ads through chitika.
Infolink is another great alternative of Adsense.It makes the work of new blogger quite easy by providing a simple code for placing in their website.Once they place that code on their blog,the keyword will be highlighted.You will earn money,if someone click on those links.Its minimum Payout is $50.It has two option for payment i.e Paypal or Via Pioneer Mastercard.I have used this network and was happy as well.Only issue,due to which i am not using it on my blog is payment transfer.I was not happy with the time delay i.e the amount of time,it takes to transfer the funds to your account.In my case,it was taking around 3 months.
In last few years,Buysellads has emerged as the major alternative of Google adsense.It brings advertiser to your site who purchases the Ad spot on your blog.Her you decide the rates for different places on your blog/website.However the only limit which appears is the huge number of pageviews(i.e 50,000 per month).If you are not getting that much traffic then they will disapprove your application.
- Fidelity Media–The minimum paymout of Fidelity-Media is $0.01.It means that they have almost 0 minimum payout
- http://adfoc.us
- Paid to Promote – It has good market because its minimum payout is just $5 and they pay twice in a month.They pay via Paypal and WebMoney.
- Tribal Fusion
- Click-Sor – http://www.clicksor.com/
- Kontera
- Biddvertiser
- iSocket –https://www.isocket.com/
- Adversal
- Quadabra
Recommended Article–Google Adsense Pin not received-What to do next?


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Wow, I just found out that my film 'This is How I Spend My Time' has been accepted to the Paris Shorts Film Festival! It's first trip abroad. I am practicing my French every day in case there's a possibility that I can go! Anyone use the Duolingo app? It's not the most practical, I have been using it for two years and still wouldn't understand someone trying to give me directions on the street... What languages are you learning and how?
Annie Poon's blog about her artwork


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Dorothea Lange in 'The Ongoing Moment' by Geoff Dyer said that 'the camera is an instrument that teaches us to see without a camera'.
Photographs and video footage of starving Ethiopian children in 1984 led to a greater public awareness, which gained momentum when celebrities brought it more into the public eye with the Band Aid 'Do they know it's Christmas?' single In the same year and Live Aid in 1985 which raised £30 million. Photographs of celebrities holding dying children undoubtedly brought the plight of the starving population into the living rooms of the Western World, and without them perhaps there would have been less prolific support for the fundraising.
Rather sceptically, however, I question what impact these photographs had on the profile and popularity of the celebrities who took part (see the image below which arguably depicts Bob Geldof as some kind of religious saviour through the use of black and white, the way he towers above everyone else who is sitting down, his long hair and casual pensive stride); as well as the question mark over how much of the money ended up funding weapons. I wonder whether we will ever know which had the greater impact – celebrity involvement, still photos, video footage, or a combination of all three.
Considering other images, I do struggle with the ethics of allowing graphically barbaric photos such as the image of an incinerated soldier to be available for all to see. In that instance I think descriptive text would have been more likely to provoke change than a descriptive image – which may have the opposite effect (ie the viewer having a reaction to the image itself rather than to the story behind it).


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Bulldogs Blog
Georgia football: Is coach Mark Richt too nice?
Mark Richt is a nice guy.
It's a reputation that has dogged him since the day he was hired at Georgia, when his former boss Bobby Bowden wondered if Richt had the stomach for some of the tough decisions that accompanied being the head coach of a big-time college football program.
Now eight games into the most tumultuous season of his career, that old nice-guy reputation is haunting Richt again, with fans asking whether their head coach with the heart of gold is capable of making changes that might not be particularly pleasant for him to address.
There's usually nothing wrong with being a nice guy, but with a 4-4 record and the future of his program coming into question, Richt said there's another side to his personality that most fans don't see.
"People that know me well or the team or the coaches, they know that I've got another edge to me that I don't show publicly all the time," Richt said. "Maybe that's what the public wants to see, but if you are going to be accused of something, being accused of being a nice guy is not one of the worst things to be accused of."
Richt's players think he's a nice guy, too, but they aren't questioning his willingness to ruffle a few feathers. While Georgia's coach may play the role of affable father figure in front of the cameras, the Bulldogs have seen what happens when problems arise behind closed doors.
"He's a great coach, a great family man, but you know you don't want to get on his bad side," linebacker Rennie Curran said. "When you're not getting the job done, not executing, he's going to let you know."
Sophomore Marcus Dowtin won't argue with anyone who calls Richt mild-mannered. In fact, Dowtin has rarely heard his head coach yell. But that doesn't mean Richt doesn't have his attention when there's a serious matter to be discussed.
"When he is serious everybody knows it," Dowtin said. "He doesn't have to raise his voice for everybody to know that he's serious."
Still, concerns persist. After all, Richt has never coached a team that has struggled as much as Georgia has this season.
Richt hasn't extended an olive branch to many of the most concerned fans this season either.
While quarterback Joe Cox has struggled mightily, Richt has steadfastly supported his fifth-year senior, announcing earlier this week that Cox would remain the starter despite throwing three interceptions last week against Florida.
In the wake of a blowout loss to Tennessee, Richt openly questioned fans that critiqued his team without having experienced playing football firsthand.
While many fans have called for changes in personnel or on the coaching staff, Richt has offered little in the way of major shakeups.
In turn, the perception has been that Richt is ignoring the problems in favor of the status quo, but he assured Georgia's fans he was working hard to address the issues.
"I don't think one fan has brought up something we haven't thought of, so we think about all these things," Richt said. "We're trying to make the best decisions that we can make."
For now, Richt said, those will be small tweaks rather than big-picture changes. That's the only real option midseason.
And while fans are anxious to see a glimpse of the future, Richt said sacrificing the current season sets a bad precedent moving forward.
"We tell our guys to finish the drill. We tell our guys to never quit," Richt said. "If we made a move and say we are playing for next year, in my mind, we've given up on the season, we've quit. We don't quit at Georgia, and we don't teach our guys to quit."


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Described by his nominator
as "a prominent member in
the community of people with
disabilities," Reynoldson—who has
muscular dystrophy—makes it clear
that his disability does not affect his
work and, leading through example,
encourages other attorneys with
disabilities to overcome obstacles.
In addition to being president of
the Washington Attorneys with
Disabilities Association, he founded
Washington Civil & Disability
Advocate, a not-for-profit committed
to providing legal services to people
with disabilities without charging
attorney fees; increasing accessibility
and inclusion in Washington
state; and, in addition to litigation,
assisting with disability education
and awareness efforts, including
informing the disability community
on disability rights. He also shows his
dedication to making the community
more accessible and preventing
people from taking advantage
of persons with disabilities by
advocating as a named plaintiff in
class action suits, notably including
Reynoldson, et al. v. City of Seattle, a
case that resulted in the city being
required to install or remediate over
20,000 curb ramps over the next 18
years. Reynoldson is founder and
lead attorney at Washington Civil &
Disability Advocate in Seattle.
Applauded by his nominator for
pro bono work that "has given
voice to a group of individuals who
otherwise would not have had access
to the justice system," Williams has
demonstrated steadfast dedication
in his commitment to assist people
in need, including his involvement
in ongoing litigation challenging,
on Fourth and Fourteenth
Amendment grounds, the policies
and practices of the City of Seattle
and the Washington Department of
Transportation regarding sweeps of
homeless encampments. In addition
to the positive impacts he has had
on the recipients of his pro bono
efforts, the committee was impressed
with his mentorship of younger
associates, recently earning him a
Mentorship Award from his firm. He
also volunteers as a board member
and provides pro bono legal services
to the Evergreen Safety Council, a
nonprofit organization that provides
safety training and information
for members of the public and
businesses in the Pacific Northwest.
Williams is an associate at Corr
Cronin LLP in Seattle.
It is no surprise that Zetts was
nominated for this award, given
her history of providing low bono
basic estate planning services to
the elderly, disabled, and folks who
otherwise have limited access to
transportation, or other barriers to
traditional legal services; and her
efforts to ensure that pro se litigants
understand their options, the rules,
and the administrative hearing
process. She also founded the Seattle
University Trusts and Estates/
Elder Law Student Association;
was selected as a member of the
2017 Seattle University Low Bono
Incubator (which recognizes alumni
whose mission is to provide access to
justice by serving moderate-means
clients); provides free lectures on
basic estate planning; and mentors
other attorneys who are interested
in providing low-bono mobile legal
services to clients in their homes
and care facilities. In addition to
her dedicated involvement within
the legal community, the committee
was particularly impressed
with her commitment to public
service, as demonstrated through
volunteer work with Washington
First Responders Will Clinics,
King County Bar Association
Neighborhood Legal Clinics,
the Housing Justice Project, and
Associated Counsel for the Accused.
Zetts recently accepted a position
as attorney advisor with the Social
Security Administration.


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Thursday, August 23, 2007
Education for real life
The GCSE results were released today. We got the annual predictable complaints, linguists say that not enough people are learning languages, chemists say that not enough people are learning chemistry, historians say that not enough people are learning history, and the same for every other subject. With whom do I agree? All of them! Maybe kids should never be allowed to leave school until they pass?
But I agree with the modernisers too. In the age of the internet, there is no need to learn so many facts by rote. What is important, regardless of subject, is the scientific method. Being able to analyse increasing numbers of apparently contradictory facts, opinions, trends, facts, customs, superstitions, developments in a critical manner, then being able to draw sensible conclusions.
But sometimes even the archetypal creative ends up doing fairly routine office tasks … maybe there should be special training just for bengalis to learn british bureaucracy … there used to be!
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patterns > Hyperspace Portal
> Crochet Ron Weasley Animal Crackers Hat
Crochet Ron Weasley Animal Crackers Hat
I love Harry Potter and I was getting tired of not having enough crochet patterns related to the fandom. I've been wanting to do an Animal Crackers Hat for ages, but my knitting skills are limited at best. Thus, the crochet version was born!
This is untested so far, so if anyone notices any understanding difficulties, please let me know so I can fix them! Also, I have no idea what the yardage is, so if you keep track of that, let me know.
The chart will work at any even row level of increase on the pattern, so if you need a bigger or smaller size don't worry about it being compatible!
If you find that your chart stitches are jogging a bit too far to one side and you're losing the triangle shapes, I suggest shifting the single white stitches one to the left from where they are. I won't change the chart, because it might not be a problem for everyone, but I found that it evens out the shapes for me.
I guess some people are having trouble understanding how I did the color changes. Here is a tutorial for the basic method. http://crochet.about.com/od/skillstechniques/ss/Crochetin...
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Limited Time 'Mini' Styling Package Questionnaire
Creating A Capsule Wardrobe
Please complete the form before your scheduled session date. I will look over my notes from our phone consultation and the answers to these questions to use for reference while we work in your closet. From these questions, I can give you the curated and versatile style you wish to achieve!
After you submit this form, I will contact you in 1-2 business days to confirm our session!


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There are many different kinds of homemade cleansing remedies with the purpose for human use, but there are just as many homemade remedies for your furry friends as well! But which ones work the best for a dog's ears, and which ones are safest? Your dog's ears are very sensitive and you want to be extremely cautious when touching that area. Remember a dog's hearing is much different than ours, along with their sense of smell.
They use their nose and ears differently than us humans! Ossicles in a canine's ear, or little bones within their ear, vibrate and send signals to their brain in order for them to hear correctly. Those muscles are superior to human's, which means canines can hear much higher and much lower sounds. That's why they are super sensitive to the world's noises, and can act out according to noise that we may not even hear ourselves!
But if you use the right homemade dog ear cleaner remedy, proceed with caution, use a gentle but firm touch, the job can be finished actually very quickly! Your dog will be clean, happy, and smelling fantastic after this method of ear cleansing! It is so simple once you know how to make homemade dog ear cleaner, and your dog will be happy too! They will be able to hear better too because those ossicles are able to vibrate and send the signals better and finally function properly.
Which is the best dog ear cleaner remedies?
So I found that for my two dogs, this witch hazel and apple cider vinegar mixture works the best. There are quite a few other remedies out there – believe me I've tried them all – and this one works the best and really cleanses both of my dogs' ears! I'll list the ingredients below, and be sure to use the proper ratios. A lot of times pet owners just use one or two of the ingredients and think it will work, but that will not be sufficient and will not be effective.
All of these ingredients together form a gentle, cleansing, and preventative homemade dog ear cleaner, that should be used at lease every time your dog gets a bath, and at most every week or two. So be sure to use all of the ingredients, because they all have a job of their own and a reason to be in this recipe. So how would you make homemade dog ear cleaner? Here is how to do it.
Here's what you'll need…
-¼ cup apple cider vinegar (White vinegar or apple cider vinegar)
-1/4 cup of water
-1 tablespoon of witch hazel
-2 tablespoons of boric acid
Mix all in a container and shake well. You may want to use a bowl or a bottle similar to a hair dye bottle to shake it up.
Like I mentioned before, each ingredient is important. Vinegar is and has always been a jaw-dropping and versatile cleanser, in the way it cleanses people, pets, fabrics, and other surfaces. It is the almighty natural cleaner, that really does the "dirty work" and gets in those crevices and hard to reach areas.
Witch hazel is a very unique ingredient. It is used and added to many different solutions, but for different reasons. It is in this remedy because it acts as a soothing agent for the dog's comfort. It can be used for the cleaning and the removing of impurities as well, but it mainly acts as a gentle soother for your dog's comfort. It is possible that vinegar could be a tiny bit harsh for your dog, because of the whole super sensitive dog ear issue. So the use of a soother with an ingredient like witch hazel, is to make your dog's ear cleaning experience as comfortable as possible.
What is boric acid and why is it safe for dogs?
Boric acid is an unbelievable and all-natural mineral found from Mother Earth.
Why the use of boric acid for this remedy? What in the world is boric acid, and why would I put it in my puppy's ears? Honestly, I could write an entire novel about boric acid, but I'll try to keep it simple, sweet, and to the point. Boric acid is an acidic crystalline compound from borax that is used as an antiseptic, and is used in the manufacture of heat-resistant glass and enamels.
So again, why am I putting this stuff in my puppy's ears? Well, it can act as a fungicide, and combats and prevents yeast infections. It is safe because it is only mildly acidic, a small amount, and it's a fungus preventative. It comes from borax, well what is borax? It is from minerals found in dried salt-lake beds, so it is natural and made by Mother Earth. It comes from places like The Dead Sea, Salt Lake City Utah, or any other salty lake that has mineral build-up.
You can buy it online or from any health food store. So you have vinegar to cleanse, boric acid for preventative fungus infections, and witch hazel to soothe any discomfort that may result from the action of cleansing your dog's ears. Sounds like The perfect home remedy!
Going to a vet VS using home remedies
Why not use what the vet gives you? Well, a veterinarian appointment is expensive on its own, not to mention afterward the purchasing of the prescription on top of the appointment. That expensive prescription would contain harsh ingredients like ammonia, chlorine, glycol ethers, and all kinds of terrible things in cleaners for surfaces and cleansing products for mammals.
So it is best to avoid all products that could potentially have these chemicals in them. It's known in medical communities that these chemicals are absolutely found in these products, and they are super harmful to living things. Cancers like the brain, thyroid, and lymph nodes are the common forms of cancers that are caused by these harmful chemicals.
So companies, like the Honest Company, make products that are safe for all living things. It is very important, and the more people are aware of these things, the more action can be taken. If you wouldn't use a product to clean your oven, then you wouldn't want to use a product on your most beloved furry friend.
Dogs with floppy ears like basset hounds or poodles, need their ears cleaned about once a week. Dogs with ears that stick straight up, like a German Shepherd, can go a bit longer between cleanses. Obviously, because they always have the air to help clear out their ears.
If your dog or puppy has an ear infection, or if you suspect they may be suffering from an ear infection, then home remedies should not be used. Unfortunately, this dog ear cleaner is only useful when preventing infections, mites, and other issues. But any existing infections definitely should be treated with antibiotics, because it will be painful for your furry friend. But prevent your dog from ever getting an infection in the first place, by cleaning their ears once a week!
Ho to use the homemade dog ear cleaner
Just try to relax your dog as much as you can, maybe catch it while it's tired and sleepy. Maybe after a long walk, or after it's been running around the yard for hours. Your dog can be sitting, laying down, or standing, but it needs to be as still as possible. Get cotton balls, swabs, or gauze and wrap it around your finger. Dip it into the mixture. Cleanse the outside of the ear first to get rid of any dirt, with gentle wipes and ultra gentles motions.
Remember those ossicle muscles! Throw out the used swabs. To get deeper inside the ear, use a large syringe style bottle, or something similar to a hair dye bottle. Squirt the solution into the ear and close the ear and gently rub. You can do these steps two or three times, and then allow your dog to shake or rattle its head. Doing this process outside may be smart, if you want to prevent any messes.
Final Verdict
This method or process prevents ear infections, yeast infections, ear mites, and any other ear issues that a dog may suffer from. The homemade dog ear cleaner solution is homemade, natural, safe, and very effective and your dog will be happy and healthy! There is no need to spend a ridiculous amount of money on vet visits, pet shop, or anything that a company makes for your dog.
Why wait until your furry friend gets ear mites or an ear infection, and then treat the problem? If you use your home remedy every week or so, you will keep their ears hygienic and healthy. They won't ever get ear issues with this vinegar/witch hazel cleanser and fungicide within the remedy!
3 Comments
I've used half vinegar all the way down to a tablespoon in a four-ounce solution, and my dog absolutely hates it! You can tell it hurts her. Will witch hazel help with this, or should I try to find another recipe that eliminates vinegar? Problem is, vinegar recipes are all I can find online. Thanks for any advice.
Why do you show alcohol and not show witch hazel. You don't mention alcohol. Do I use alcohol and no water?


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Roast Heritage Turkey
Why This Recipe Works
Heritage turkeys lead a much longer and more active life than their supermarket brethren, leading to dark meat that is well exercised and collagen-rich. Plus they have a shallower breast. Before roasting, we season under the skin and let the turkey parts sit uncovered in the refrigerator overnight to improve flavor and tenderness and boost crisping of the skin. We break down the bird in order to separate the dark and white meat so that we can give the dark meat a head start in a low oven to begin tenderizing. We add the breast partway through and flip the pieces to ensure even cooking. After letting them rest for 30 to 60 minutes, we return them to a 500-degree oven to quickly crisp the skin.


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To Celebrate 20 years of creativity, OOTA (Out of the Asylum) Writers Group is offering mentorships to poetry and prose writers, aged 18 - 25 years.
The three-month mentorships, which commence on 1 June 2107, will offer young writers a chance to develop their craft through conversation and email communication with a published author.
The writing that emerges through the mentoring relationship will be published on the OOTA website. Writers will also be invited to read their work on Saturday 21 October at OOTA's 20th anniversary celebration at the Fremantle Arts Centre.
Applications should emailed to firstname.lastname@example.com, including the applicant's name, phone details and the title of the work together with an unpublished poem (30 lines max) or short prose piece (500 words max) as a PDF attachment.
Applications close on 10 May 2017 and successful applicants will be notified by 26 May 2017.
OOTA members Maureen Gibbons, Marlish Glorie, Rae Hillhorst and Zan Ross have volunteered as Mentors and are to be congratulated for donating their time and skills to this very worthwhile project.


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19 Christmas Cookie Instagram Captions That Sparkle More Than The Sprinkles
Almost any kind of cookie is delicious, but Christmas cookies hold a special place on the totem pole. Maybe it's the bits of Christmas spirit sprinkled into them that makes them so yummy. I'm are also here for how decorative they turn out, and so are Instagram followers. Christmas cookie Instagram captions may not go in the oven, but they have to be pretty lit and sparkle more than those sprinkles you went heavy on.
Seriously, so many people are going to be making and presenting their Christmas cookies on your social media feeds this season. You don't want yours paired with a boring caption, because that's a complete disservice to the cookies. It's like putting chocolate chips inside of sugar cookies — they just don't go together. There's nothing worse than a bad cookie combination, and anyone who purposely makes bad cookies is for sure the Grinch.
Baking cookies for the holidays is so much fun, and you want your candid pics to speak volumes about how eventful the moment was. It's the one time of year where you don't look absolutely mad going overboard with the red and green sprinkles on everything, and those gumdrop buttons are so on fleek that your gingerbread man should be awarded the title of "Sexiest Man Alive." Yeah, it's that serious in the kitchen throughout the holiday season, and that means posting what all your hard work was for. Make sure this is before you take a few bites of your crumbly, cute creations, though.
You can even incorporate what was going on around you when you were baking. Did you use Mom's favorite recipe? Did Grandma actually let you take the reigns, or did you make the frosting from scratch? All of this is perfect inspiration for you to deliver an amazing Instagram post to your followers. Let your cookies sparkle, but let your caption show how Christmas cookies aren't just cookies, they're a lifestyle.
1. "You are the boss of that dough." — Unknown
2. "Nothing says home like the smell of baking." — Unknown
3. "Bake the world a better place." — Unknown
4. "Cookies are happy, because that is their job. Making those you know, and don't know happy. They tell people you care." — Brent M. Jones
5. "Where there's a whisk, there's a way." — Unknown
6. "Make frosting not war!" — Unknown
7. "If baking is any labor at all, it's a labor of love. A love that gets passed from generation to generation." — Regina Brett
8. "Baking is both an art and a science." — Sherry Yard
9. "Stressed is just desserts spelled backwards." — Unknown
10. "Cookies make everything better." — Unknown
11. "Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough but not baked in the same oven." — Yiddish proverb
12. "Cookies make everything better." — Unknown
13. "I think baking cookies is equal to Queen Victoria running an empire. There's no difference in how seriously you take the job, how seriously you approach your whole life." — Martha Stewart
14. "A balanced diet is a Christmas cookie in each hand." — Unknown
15. "Cookies are made with butter and love." — Norwegian proverb
16. "Christmas cookies and happy hearts, this is how the holiday starts." — Unknown
17. "The pleasure lies not in the cookies, but in the pattern the crumbs make when the cookies crumble." — Michael Korda
18. "It's hard to be sad when you're eating a cookie." — Unknown
19. "The measure of achievement is not winning awards. It's doing something that you appreciate, something you believe is worthwhile." — Julia Child
Baking Christmas cookies is how many of us indulge in the holiday season. And if giving Christmas cookies as a gift is what you decide to do this year, you're not only giving something sweet, you're handing over a piece of what you're passionate about as well.


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I am so excited for warm weather and transitioning into spring! Goodbye heavy sweaters and layers! A current trend that I am obsessed with which is the perfect transition to spring is cutout knits. Today I am styling this super chic Joe's Jeans Knit that has these cold shoulder cutouts that add just the right amount of edge to your look. Cutout sweaters are also a perfect transitional piece for this time of year when the days are warm but the evenings can get chilly. But let's talk about my favorite topic, denim! How good are these slightly acid wash High Rise skinnies?! I mean, you had me at acid wash! My go to denim is normally black so the acid wash gives me something unique from all my other black jeans and adds texture to my looks, ie interest. They are super high rise which is my favorite because it just does good things for your curves! Super slimming, just the right amount of stretch so they are so comfy! I've always had so much love for Joe's Jeans, such quality fabrics, designs and always on trend. I've rounded up some of my favorite new styles that I want to add to my Spring wardrobe ASAP like these perfectly distressed pair, you know I love an interesting hem! Scroll down below to see the rest of my Spring Joe's Jeans Picks!
Cheers guys and thanks for stoping by.
Much love,
Special thanks to Joe's Jean for partnering on this post.


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December and January are months I always look forward to because not just the Christmas and New year I celebrate but also my birthday, father's birthday and parent's anniversary. The joy I derived from the celebrations caused me be to away from blogging for two weeks even though writing a Christmas blog post would have been great. I'm sure you also enjoyed your Christmas and New year's celebrations. By the way, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in arrears.
In my opinion, being able to stick with a plan made by yourself and without any external push from anyone might seem demotivating to accomplish the plan. For this reason, new year resolutions are overrated and not taken seriously. Initially, I assumed writing this post will not excite a lot of people but it's not the excitement that's the important thing but the few people it excites, this post should be useful to them. What have you planned to achieve this year? What self-growth have you planned for yourself? What do you intent to stay away from and what do intent to welcome into your life? If you fail to plan, you have planned to fail. You want your dreams to come through isn't? To be able to achieve anything effectively, you must plan.
By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail."
A goal without a plan is just a wish."
"The future is already here – it's just not evenly distributed."
There are some bad behaviors we either developed last year or has been with us for a long time that should not remain with us this year. How have you planned to stay away from those behaviors? Knowing fully well addicted behaviors are not easily avoided. To avoid these behaviors, you have to start from somewhere and not give up. The fun thing about new year resolutions is that the journey is always fun and educating.
There's a problem I'm excited to help you with. "The problem is we don't have what to plan for and how to plan". You might find this post useful. How to set a goal. Planing here entails improving on yourself and executing the priorities. Write a list of things you would love to achieve this year based on the most important and personal growth. Achieving all of them should not be the motive but improving on yourself. Even though you don't achieve all, you would have achieved other areas of life that are important to you. What have set to achieve this year is to hold a master's degree, get selected for my preferred job, develop my blog and many more. Above all, the most important attitude to develop for this new year is a strong mentality and being prayerful.
You might also find these articles useful. 5 attitudes that stops success growth, 5 painful truths about life and the power of self discovery.


text: Forgive me Superdry but I haven't brought any of your men's clothing since about 8 years ago (give or take a couple of years - but the point is a LONG time ago). It was when everyone seemed to be taking about Superdry and loving the big bold branded shirts, hoodies and multiple zipped jacket - which had about 12 bloody zips on it! Actually I still have my yellow Superdry hoodie and grey/orange checked Superdry shirt. It was about a month ago now when I was invited to preview their new men's collection that I realised it is time to buy back into Superdry.