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Message-ID: <33062asstr$1003882201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Pete <waitawhile2000@yahoo.com>
Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT
NNTP-posting-date: Tue, 23 Oct 2001 18:03:20 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} GF makes me entertain her friends
Date: Tue, 23 Oct 2001 20:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

"The Entertainer"

A while back, my girlfriend Linda and I began playing a sexual game. It
started when she was away for a few days; on the second day, when we spoke
on the phone, she said she wanted me not to cum until she got home. I
thought that was fun, so I agreed. It turned out that I spent most of the
following three days jerking off, but I always forced myself to stop before
I came.

When she got home, she was delighted to see how easy it was for me to get
hard and stay that way. (I am quite a bit older than she, but after four
days of not cumming, I felt like a teenager!) We played "the game" again a
few weeks later, even though she did not go away, and it was very exciting
for both of us. We even played it when we fucked - we would go at it until
she came, and then stop, leaving me hard, horny and very excited. She
especially liked this, since she admitted that once she cums, she is really
not interested in fucking any longer. With this arrangement, she didn't have
to worry about whether I'm done or not; when she was finished, she stopped!

As she got into it more and more, and saw how much it excited me, she got
"meaner" in her demands, making me masturbate until I was on the verge of
cumming again and again, and when we made love, doing everything she could
to make me cum while looking in my eyes and saying, "Don't cum." The most
difficult of all was when she made love to me and gently rubbed her fingers
over both my nipples: it was SO exciting, and she knew it, and even when I
begged her to stop because I was about to cum, she didn't stop - and didn't
stop telling me I couldn't cum.

Not long ago, we formalized "the game." We agreed together that she would
have complete and total control over my orgasms; I would never again cum
without her permission. As planned, she immediately said that I would be
allowed to cum only one day per week - Tuesday, which is my day off. While
she "reserved the right" to let me cum more often than that, she has not yet
done so. This arrangement has worked out perfectly - I am constantly
excited, and she gets all the sex she wants, whenever she wants; I am ALWAYS
ready! By the fifth day each week I am a horny wreck, running into the
bathroom to masturbate between meetings at work, and walking around with an
erection most all the time at home. On the "seventh day" my orgasms are
huge, and I am good for three or four in the course of the day. But always,
throughout that day, there is the nagging reminder that it will be seven
days more before I can cum again...

Last month - the month of my birthday - Linda did what she had been
threatening (promising?) to do for a long time: as the first part of my
birthday present, she told me that I would not be allowed to cum FOR THE
ENTIRE MONTH. While we had talked about this before, the reality of what she
said was pretty daunting: before meeting her, I seldom went a day without
cumming; lately, it had been seven days, which was damn difficult already;
how could I possibly go a month? I told her it would physically hurt to do
that - "blue balls" is not a joke - and she said that she had given that a
lot of thought, and she was okay with it. I said, "YOU'RE okay with MY
hurting?" And she said yes, she was; she thought it would be fun to watch me
try to sit down, and she hoped that it would remind me of her all the time.

It did.

I made it through the first week quite well; after all, that was what I was
used to already. The second week got hard, fast: by the ninth day, when my
body apparently realized that seven days had come and gone and I had NOT
cum, it rebelled. My balls ached, and while they didn't look any bigger than
normal, when I walked or tried to sit down it felt like I had two bowling
balls between my legs.

"Linda, it really hurts," I said.

"I know," she answered, and she kissed me deeply.

"PLEASE let me cum," I begged.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you," she said. She didn't say "no," she said "I
can't let you," which somehow made it feel like it was out of her hands,
too, and both of us would just have to live with it. And we did, all through
week #2.

The 14th day was my birthday, and any hope I had that I might get a "pardon"
was dashed when she told me I'd have to wait another week for my present,
because I "wasn't ready yet." But she came four times that day, and left me
gasping and begging each time.

The third week was a blur of horniness, frustration, pleasure, pain and yes,
fear - fear that I would cum accidentally, and fear that I would NOT cum,
and actually continue to live that way for more than another week.

On the 21st day - the third anniversary of my weekly cumming that I had been
denied - she came over in the afternoon, sat me down and said, "It's time to
talk about your birthday present. Remember that time I came to your office,
and we shut the door, and I told you to get undressed and masturbate for me?
I loved watching you, and it was so cute when you told me you were actually
embarrassed, since I was completely dressed and you were completely naked.
Every time my eyes went from your eyes to your cock, you shuddered, and
every time I smiled when you got close to cumming and had those great looks
of pleasure on your face, you nearly lost it. Remember?"

Of course I remembered. I was completely surprised by how embarrassing it
was to strip and masturbate in front of my own girlfriend; the fact that I
was naked in front of a completely dressed woman changed everything, and I
had admitted to her later that it was exciting as well as embarrassing.

"Good - I thought you'd remember," she continued. "So, tonight I'm having a
party at my house, in honor of your birthday. I've invited four of my
friends over, and you're the entertainment. Is that okay with you?"

I was dumbstruck. I thought she was just joking, but there was nothing in
her voice which sounded like joking. While the thought was mind-blowingly
exciting, I knew there was a huge gap between fantasy and reality, and there
was nothing in the world which could make me do whatever it was she was
planning on my doing for her friends that night.

"Linda, I can't," I whispered hoarsely.

"You CAN'T, as in you have other plans, or you WON'T, as in it's too
embarrassing?"

"My love, it really is TOO embarrassing. I couldn't possibly do that, even
though you know how exciting I find stuff like that."

"Listen, I went to a lot of trouble to arrange this party. It took a lot of
explaining to get my girlfriends to understand what we're doing, and now
that they are excited about it, I'm not about to cancel it."

"But I can't. I really can't..."

"All right," she said with a sigh, "I'll make you a deal. If you make me
cancel this, we end "the game" NOW, and don't ever play it again. We'll go
back to a normal sex life, just like everyone else, and pretend it never
happened. If you really CAN'T do this, then it will be worth it to you;
otherwise, I'll expect to see you at my house in an hour, so we have time to
get ready." And with that, she got up from the couch and walked out my door.

I sat there, stunned, for a long time. Finally, in a daze, I went to my
bedroom and chose clothing to wear for the evening: black jeans, a white
button-down shirt, socks, sneakers... and dark blue underwear. I threw them
in a bag and drove to her house. I don't know if it was her threat, or
overwhelming horniness, or both, but I was going to go through with it -
whatever "it" was.

When I rang the bell, she opened the door and hugged me tight. "Thank you,"
she said.

I came inside and she said her friends would be there in an hour, so I
should get ready. I asked her who was coming over, and she named three women
I did not know: Fran, Rachel and Ronit. Then she told me to go take a
shower.

I got into the shower, and as I began to wash she poked her head in. "Be
sure you wash EVERYWHERE, because they are going to see all of you," she
said with a wicked grin. I smiled - she looks beautiful when she laughs -
and glanced down... and I froze.

Now, I'm no Adonis; not ugly, but certainly no Chipendales dancer. As I
looked down at myself in the shower, I suddenly saw my body - stomach, legs,
pubic hair, cock - with the realization that in just a little while, four
women would be staring at me... ALL of me. My cock, which had been nearly
hard as I washed, immediately shrank until I thought it would disappear. I
took a deep breath, tried to keep from shaking, and looked up to see Linda
with the most self-satisfied look on her face. She knew she "got me" good
with that one!

She left the bathroom, and I finished my shower. It took a while - after
all, how long do you wash yourself when you're going to be showing your body
to everyone? I went to her room and dressed, now truly shaking with the
thought that each piece of clothing I was putting on was only a temporary
covering, enough to bide the time until the moment I exposed myself for
Linda and her "guests."

When I finished dressing, I went downstairs to the living room. Linda had me
sit beside her, and she gave me a deep kiss, then began to speak.

"Pete, when my company arrives, please meet them at the door. Introduce
yourself, welcome them and get them drinks. If they ask you any questions
about what's going on tonight, answer them truthfully, all right?"

I nodded dumbly.

"When everyone's here, I'm going to tell them about the game, and about the
21 days since you came. I'm also going to tell them about how embarrassed
you were undressing in front of me, and how I can't imagine how embarrassed
you're going to be doing it for all of them. Then, when the time seems
right, I'm going to ask you to undress for us. When you do, please stand in
the center of the room and face them, and whatever you do, don't close your
eyes; I want you looking at them all the time. Do you understand?"

I nodded again, absolutely unable to speak.

"When you're undressed, I'll ask you to walk up to each of them in turn, so
they can have a close look at you. By that time, everyone should be ready
for another drink, so you'll get refills from the kitchen."

"Undressed?" I asked.

"Of course! Once you undress, you're not getting dressed again this evening.
So anyway, when everyone has a new drink, I want you to pull up a chair and
sit right in front of them. Don't cross your legs or use your hands to hide
anything; I want them to be able to look at you as long and as carefully as
they want. Just sit and talk with us; you know, polite conversation with our
guests. And try not to be too uncomfortable when they stare at your body.

"And then, the best part of the evening's entertainment: I'll tell you it is
time for you to masturbate for us. I want you to stand in the middle of the
room again, take the jar of Vaseline, and go to it.

"Now, this is VERY important: I want them to see everything, so you may not
hide anything - not your body or your feelings - as you masturbate. I want
them to see your body shake; I want them to hear you moan and groan with
pleasure; and most of all, I want them to see the wonderful faces you make
when you get close to cumming. You may not hide ANYTHING from them, do you
understand?"

Again, I nodded, but she made me say it aloud. "Yes, I understand. I will
let them see everything."

"Great! Then we're all ready for our company. Why don't you sit here and
picture what you'll be doing in a little while? That should be fun!"

I sat, and I pictured, and I couldn't stop shaking, so I stopped picturing.
Basically, I stopped thinking - it was the best defense - until the doorbell
wrenched me back to what was passing for reality. "Get the door, please,"
she called from the kitchen.

I went to the door, trying not to shake so much that it would show. When I
opened it, I managed to say, "Hi, I'm Pete. Please come in."

Our first guest introduced herself as Ronit. She was in her late 20's, about
5' 5", and obviously Israeli - with an Israeli attitude. I did my best to
concentrate on what she said, but I couldn't help thinking that this woman
was going to see me - SEE me - in just a few minutes. Apparently she was
thinking the same thing, as she looked me up and down, not-so-subtly
evaluating what kind of show she would get that evening. Israelis are NOT
subtle.

I had just settled her on the living room couch and handed her a beer, when
the doorbell rang again. Answering it, I met Fran, whose appearance really
surprised me. She was in her late 30's or early 40's, and somehow, I had
never considered the possibility that one of my "audience" would be a
middle-aged woman! Same thoughts, both mine and hers. As she entered, I saw
another woman coming up the driveway, so I waited there. As uncomfortable as
it was to introduce myself to these women, it was even harder to wait
patiently by the door as my next "spectator" walked up to me. I think I took
my first breath when she finally made it to the front door. This was Rachel,
a drop-dead gorgeous, blonde young woman, maybe 24 years old.

When everyone was seated on the couch, drinks in hand, Linda entered. She
said hello to all of them, and thanked them for coming. Then she said,
"Well, what do you think of him?"

As well-informed as they were, it was difficult for them to get comfortable
talking about me, in front of me. Linda saw this, and said, don't worry -
I'm sure Pete can do *something* to help you all relax!" Then, as promised,
she gave them all the details of "the game," talking openly about fucking
until she came and about me masturbating for her and being embarrassed. The
conversation seemed so unreal that I was not even bothered very much by it;
it was as if she was talking about someone else. They asked a few questions
of her, and a few of me, which I tried to answer the best I could. Most of
all, they wanted to know WHY I didn't mind waiting so long to cum; I
couldn't really answer that well, except to say that it was very exciting to
know that Linda was completely in control. I don't know that they really
understood, but they accepted my answer.

"So, Pete, why don't you take off your clothes now?" Her question (though it
was not at all a question) hit me like a hammer. I had just gotten to the
point where I could talk about what we did, and was beginning to feel a
little comfortable, when she said it... and my heart nearly stopped.

There is a difference - a BIG difference - between fantasizing about
exposing yourself and actually doing it. There is no way to describe what it
feels like to have four sets of eyes staring at you, all waiting for you to
take off all your clothes. Two parts were the most difficult, and the first
was taking the very first action - the one that leads to all the others. I
sat for what seemed like an eternity, until Linda quietly whispered, "I told
you not to close your eyes." I hadn't realized that they were closed, but I
guess I was trying to slip off to some other place, even if that place was
only inside. I opened my eyes, saw them staring, and reached down to untie
my sneakers.

Once I got started, taking off my sneakers was actually very easy; after
all, what's the big deal about that? My socks followed, and then I stood up.
Walking from my chair to the center of the room was the longest walk of my
life, but eventually I was there - and there was no more reason to delay. I
unbuckled my belt, opened my pants and dropped them to the floor, stepping
out of them when they were around my ankles. I then unbuttoned my shirt, and
as I pulled it off, I felt a rush of cold air and a rush of fear: I was
nearly naked, and all four women had hunched forward in their seats,
watching me intently.

The other nearly impossible part was, of course, taking off my underwear.
Twice I closed my eyes, forcing them open each time I remembered that I had
to look at my audience as they looked at me. Then, just as I reached to pull
them down, Linda interrupted.

"Wait a minute," she said. "I want to ask everyone something. Girls, have
any of you ever seen a man you didn't know, take off ALL his clothes for
you?"

Ronit, Fran and Rachel looked at each other, thought for a minute, and one
by one, said no, they hadn't.

Then Linda said, "Pete, have you ever taken off all your clothes for a woman
you never met?"

Standing there in my underwear, my cock trying to decide whether to be hard
or to disappear, I croaked out, "No."

"That's great!" Linda said. "That means you're all going to do something
you've never done before! Okay, Pete, pull down your underpants."

With nothing left to do but do it, and with Linda's words ringing in my
ears, I slipped my thumbs into the waistband and slowly exposed myself to
them. I didn't do it slowly to be sexy or tantalizing; I did it slowly
because I thought I would pass out if I moved any faster. When my underwear
hit the floor, I stepped out of each leg, then looked up to see my audience
staring at my body.

Everyone was silent for what seemed like hours. I saw them looking at me -
looking at my cock, then looking up at my eyes, then glancing away
nervously, then looking again. All except Fran, that was: she stared at me,
running her eyes up and down my body like a buyer checking out a new car.
Finally, she broke the silence: "My God, this is GREAT!" she declared, and
that let loose a wave of comments from all three of Linda's guests. I won't
go into the details; suffice to say that they commented on EVERY part of me.
The most humiliating part was that not one of them spoke TO me - they all
talked ABOUT me. It was as if I had no feelings - as if it simply didn't
matter what they said about me in my presence. Some things they said were
complimentary, others were critical; no one paid the least attention to ME,
just to my body.

"C'mon over here, Pete - I want to take a closer look." Again, Fran was the
one who spoke up, though everyone moved closer as I stepped forward. Fran
made me feel like she had bought me; I felt like a piece of meat, or a
slave. As I took a few steps toward her, my cock shriveled up completely;
standing in front of them, it was at their eye-level, and the attention was
more than it could bear!

"Don't you want to see his ass, too?" Linda asked, helpfully. They all said
yes, so she instructed me to turn around. Even though I couldn't see them, I
imagined all their eyes on me, and I felt myself blushing.

So, I paraded - front and back - before each of Linda's guests. My cock grew
and shrank, based on the tone and content of their comments, and again, I
began to breathe a little in spite of my exposure. Linda asked me to get
refills for everyone's drinks, so I picked up their glasses and headed for
the kitchen.

The minute I turned the corner, I heard the living room explode in a wave of
laughter, whispers and comments. Any comfort I had felt over the last few
minutes disappeared as I listened; not only did they talk about my body,
they talked about how embarrassing it must be for me. When they did, Linda
(always the helpful one) said they were welcome to embarrass me as much as
they wanted; I was there for them to enjoy. "Wait until you see him jerk
off," she said. "You'll love the faces he makes!"

Trying not to spill the drinks, I returned to our guests. As I had been
instructed, I pulled up a chair in front of them and tried to act as if
there was nothing unusual about me sitting nude in front of four women.
Linda said they could ask me anything they wanted, and this time it was
Rachel who said, "I could never do what you're doing. I'd be so embarrassed,
I'd die."

Not that I could have answered anyway, but her words dug into my gut and
drew a shudder, a groan and an instant erection from me. She stared at my
now-waving cock and said, "Wow, Linda was right - you really do get off on
being embarrassed, don't you?"

Before I could answer, she said, "Now that you're hard, stand up and let us
see your stuff." I stood up, and my erect penis was only inches from her
face. "It's been 21 days since you came, huh? I guess that explains the
stuff leaking out of you now."

I looked down, and to my humiliation, there was not just a drop of pre-cum,
but a thin strand of it, hanging off the tip of my cock and waving about
four inches beneath. "May I have that?" Rachel asked. Linda said of course,
and with that, the young woman leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and
caught the hanging end of the strand. When it touched her tongue, she moved
upward, tracing it toward my cock. Reaching my cock, she licked the tip and
ran her tongue once around the entire head. The feeling was so good, and so
intense, that I groaned loudly and my whole body shook.

Rachel leaned back in her seat, licked her lips and said, "Thank you; that
was delicious." And with that, Linda happily announced that it was time for
me to masturbate for everyone.

"Remember, he's not allowed to cum, but we want him to get as close as
possible. Once he gets 'right there,' he makes the greatest faces!" She made
a big show of handing me the jar of Vaseline, and said, "Entertain us,
Pete."

Since the jar was right in front of me, I took it without thinking. Even
putting some of it on my cock wasn't that hard, as I got to look down, away
from their staring eyes. I closed the jar, put it on the table, and then
made the mistake of looking up.

How do you look at four, fully-dressed women staring at you, and begin to
masturbate? My hand kept pulling itself back, reflecting my total
humiliation at what I was supposed to do now. Finally, Linda said, "I don't
care how embarrassed you are right now, Pete. I want some ACTION." She said
that last word with more emphasis than I thought was necessary, but she made
her point. My hand reached for my penis, and I began to stroke.

If it was difficult to strip in front of those women, it was ten times as
hard to masturbate for them. Actually jerking off was not difficult - I'd
been practicing since I was a teenager <g> - but the first time I shuddered
I found out that my audience was going to give a running commentary on my
performance. "Aaah - I saw that!" Rachel said, and the others all chimed in
with how "cute" it was. Then, when I couldn't hold back any longer, and my
mouth fell open and I groaned, Fran said, "Linda, you were right about the
faces he makes!"

Linda answered that I was just getting warmed up, and she instructed me to
start playing with my nipples as I jerked off.

I said that it drove me crazy when she touched my nipples; they are very
sensitive, and even my own touch sends sparks from there to my groin. But in
order to do that to myself, my position had to be even less dignified: with
my right hand on my penis, my left arm has to be  all the way out to the
side in order to reach my left nipple. When I began, Linda smiled, stood up,
and came to stand next to me. She whispered in my ear, "I want you to look
down at your body, and see what we are seeing. Then I want you to look each
woman in the eye, and when you have done that, I want you to get as close to
cumming as you can. You're turning all of us on, and to make sure no one
feels uncomfortable, I want you to make the most noise and the funniest
faces you possibly can. Do you understand?"

I nodded, she sat down, and at that moment I decided to give up. I decided
that there was no way I was going to come out of this with any dignity left
anyway, so I might as well make my lover happy and do as she said. So I did.

I looked at each woman - at Fran, at Ronit, and at Rachel - and I stroked my
cock and played with my nipple the way I do when I want to make myself cum.
I began to shake and spasm, and I had to remind myself to keep looking at
them every time my eyes started to roll back in my head. I can only imagine
what faces I made, and I filled the room with pants, groans and moans of
pleasure.

I was masturbating in public.

As Linda instructed, I got close - VERY close. I let go of my cock, and
looked at my audience as it "danced" - jerking up and down, desperately
searching for something to touch it so it could cum. As soon as it stopped,
I started stroking again, and brought myself to the edge a second time. This
time, I was so close that I had to move my legs - taking little steps
forward and back, which diverts some of the sensation from my groin and
prevents the orgasm.

Suddenly, the room was very quiet. Everyone was looking at me, but no one
was saying anything. I noticed that Ronit and Rachel were rubbing their legs
together, and Fran - the free spirit of the group - was actually rubbing her
crotch through her pants. Linda was smiling as she looked at me and at her
guests, and I knew she was getting wet - she said watching me perform always
made her wet, even when it was just the two of us. Now, knowing that we
would have sex as soon as the other left, she was visibly enjoying the
anticipation.

I gave myself over completely to my "performance." After getting close a
half-dozen times, I actually took the initiative and walked over to the
women sitting on the couch, and continued to do it right in front of them.
When I made my cock "dance" once again, Fran let out a soft moan, and Ronit
closed her eyes tightly, obviously busy with a private moment.

Just as I realized that I was really enjoying myself, Linda interrupted. It
was as if she could read my mind, and the thought that I was relaxing was
too much for her to bear. "Now it's time for the souvenirs," she announced.

I had no idea what she was talking about until she produced my digital
camera from behind the chair. When she told the women that each of them
could have a picture of me to take home, my discomfort returned full-time. I
stopped masturbating, and stood there in shock.

"Each of you can have your choice of pictures: one of Pete alone, standing
naked and looking at the camera, or one of him masturbating with one of
those great faces he makes, or one of you standing next to him while he does
it. What would you like?"

"You can't... you can't do that!" I protested. "You can't give them
PICTURES!"

"Of course I can, silly man. I can do anything I want. Besides, everyone has
promised to keep the pictures for themselves; they aren't going to share
them with anyone. But after such a lovely evening, why wouldn't they want to
have something to, ah, "remember you" by?

I started to speak, and she told me to be quiet and to pose like a good boy.

Rachel spoke first. "I'd like one of him jerking off." Then Ronit said that
she'd like that, too. Linda said, "Great," and instructed me to go back to
the middle of the room, and to "give us another show." Then she told the two
women to watch me and tell her when they saw what they wanted. She sat on
the couch directly between them, and ordered me to look straight at the
camera as I jerked off.

It took forever to get hard, because of my shame and my fear, and also
because I knew that when I "let go," I was going to be preserved on film.
Finally, my hand worked its stuff and I felt myself getting excited. As a
wave of pleasure shot through me, Ronit said, "Now!"

The flash went off as I groaned, and I thought about how ridiculous people
look when they are having sex. Not only was I sure I had looked that way,
but I knew I would get to see it in a few minutes when we printed out
Ronit's "souvenir" for her.

Rachel waited until I was right on the brink of cumming; I don't know how
she knew, but just as I drew in a breath and was about to pull my hand away,
she shouted, "That's it!" The flash fired again, and I had to take those
little steps to keep from cumming.

When that was done, we all looked to Fran. She got up, walked over to me,
fixed her hair a little and said, "I want a picture of you looking at me
when you get that close again." She stood next to me - the fabric of her
shirt against my naked, stroking arm - as I did what I had to do.

She never took her eyes off me. Every time I closed my eyes in response to
the pleasure, she whispered, "Look at me." She didn't smile, she didn't move
a muscle; she just stared at me until I was so close I cried out, and the
camera flashed. Then, without a word, she returned to her seat.

"Now, we'll all stay her while Pete prints out a beautiful full-page copy of
each of your pictures. Right, Pete?"

Sitting in front of Linda's computer, seeing each of the three images as it
came out of the printer, was an entirely new kind of embarrassment. Now,
naked but not masturbating, I was faced with my "funny faces" in full color.
I saw what they had seen, and now I had to give each of them their
"souvenir." When I distributed them, it was clear that the sexual tension
had receded for them, too, because Rachel said, "God, you look funny!" and
the others all shared their pictures and pointed out every amusing element
in each.

Linda and I walked them to the door - of course, I was still naked - and
thanked them for coming over. As soon as the door closed, Linda told me to
lie down on the floor. She was soaking wet, and without any foreplay at all
(or rather, after ALL THAT foreplay), she got on top of me and slipped my
cock inside her.

The whole time we fucked, she told me how much she loved seeing me like
that. She loved seeing what I did, and she loved how often I blushed. She
loved that I got into it, and that I turned her friends on. She came - long
and deep - as she talked, then got up and said, "I've had a long day; let's
go to sleep." I arose from the floor, my erection painfully waving in front
of me, and followed her up the stairs. As she drifted off to sleep she said,
"You can't cum for another 11 days."

Comments welcome - please email, as I don't get onto the Newsgroups very
often.

Pete
Waitawhile2000@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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