#it's only been two weeks for this particular client and i almost gagged when i walked in the door from the smell

[thegeminisage]

terrible things i have beheld with mine own two human eyeballs today

#personal #it is honestly genuinely tragic that men arent taught to pick up after themselves #every single man i've ever cleaned house for lives in absolutely WRETCHED filth #it's only been two weeks for this particular client and i almost gagged when i walked in the door from the smell #even with my mask and nerfed sense of smell #he doesn't even have any animals just all of his food is ROTTING #i can't believe anyone can live like this and not go insane #edit: by single i mean unmarried #married men are fine because they have a woman in the house insisting on a certain standard of living #but unmarried men just live in the worst conditions it is genuinely horrific

[legends-live-in-memories]

Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary: 

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado: 

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

#maribat #timari #timinette #mgi server event #mgi trope tussle #college au #kinda #enemies to lovers #onesided enemies to prelovers actually #but it counts i think #oh well #mlb x dc #ml x dc #tumblr youre testing my patience lately pls #tumblr do me a solid #tumblr dont fucking try me #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #i beg #tumblr what do i have to do #no beta this is tussle

[transracialqueer]

The Baby Brokers: Inside America’s Murky Private-Adoption Industry

by Tik Root

6/3/21

Shyanne Klupp was 20 years old and homeless when she met her boyfriend in 2009. Within weeks, the two had married, and within months, she was pregnant. “I was so excited,” says Klupp. Soon, however, she learned that her new husband was facing serious jail time, and she reluctantly agreed to start looking into how to place their expected child for adoption. The couple called one of the first results that Google spat out: Adoption Network Law Center (ANLC).

Klupp says her initial conversations with ANLC went well; the adoption counselor seemed kind and caring and made her and her husband feel comfortable choosing adoption. ANLC quickly sent them packets of paperwork to fill out, which included questions ranging from personal-health and substance-abuse history to how much money the couple would need for expenses during the pregnancy.

Klupp and her husband entered in the essentials: gas money, food, blankets and the like. She remembers thinking, “I’m not trying to sell my baby.” But ANLC, she says, pointed out that the prospective adoptive parents were rich. “That’s not enough,” Klupp recalls her counselor telling her. “You can ask for more.” So the couple added maternity clothes, a new set of tires, and money for her husband’s prison commissary account, Klupp says. Then, in January 2010, she signed the initial legal paperwork for adoption, with the option to revoke. (In the U.S., an expectant mother has the right to change her mind anytime before birth, and after for a period that varies state by state. While a 2019 bill proposing an explicit federal ban of the sale of children failed in Congress, many states have such statutes and the practice is generally considered unlawful throughout the country.)

“I will never forget the way my heart sank,” says Klupp. “You have to buy your own baby back almost.” Seeing no viable alternative, she ended up placing her son, and hasn’t seen him since he left the hospital 11 years ago.

Movies may portray the typical adoption as a childless couple saving an unwanted baby from a crowded orphanage. But the reality is that, at any given time, an estimated 1 million U.S. families are looking to adopt—many of them seeking infants. That figure dramatically outpaces the number of available babies in the country. Some hopeful parents turn to international adoption, though in recent years other countries have curtailed the number of children they send abroad. There’s also the option to adopt from the U.S. foster-care system, but it’s an often slow-moving endeavor with a limited number of available infants. For those with means, there’s private domestic adoption.

ANLC was started in 1996 by Allan and Carol Gindi, who first called it the Adoption Network. The company says it has since worked on over 6,000 adoptions and that it’s the largest law corporation in the nation providing adoption services (though limited publicly available data makes that difficult to verify). ANLC’s home page is adorned with testimonials from grateful clients. Critics, however, see the organization as a paradigm of the largely unregulated private-adoption system in the U.S., which has made baby brokering a lucrative business.

Problems with private domestic adoption appear to be widespread. Interviews with dozens of current and former adoption professionals, birth parents, adoptive parents and reform advocates, as well as a review of hundreds of pages of documents, reveal issues ranging from commission schemes and illegal gag clauses to Craigslistesque ads for babies and lower rates for parents willing to adopt babies of any race. No one centrally tracks private adoptions in the U.S., but best estimates, from the Donaldson Adoption Institute (2006) and the National Council for Adoption (2014), respectively, peg the number of annual nonrelative infant adoptions at roughly 13,000 to 18,000. Public agencies are involved in approximately 1,000 of those, suggesting that the vast majority of domestic infant adoptions involve the private sector—and the market forces that drive it.

“It’s a fundamental problem of supply and demand,” says Celeste Liversidge, an adoption attorney in California who would like to see reforms to the current system. The scarcity of available infants, combined with the emotions of desperate adoptive parents and the advent of the Internet, has helped enable for-profit middlemen—from agencies and lawyers to consultants and facilitators—to charge fees that frequently stretch into the tens of thousands of dollars per case.

A 2021 ANLC agreement, reviewed by TIME and Newsy, shows that prospective parents were charged more than $25,000 in fees—not including legal costs for finalizing the adoption, birth-mother expenses and other add-ons (like gender specification). The full tab, say former employees, can balloon to more than double that.

“The money’s the problem,” says Adam Pertman, author of Adoption Nation and president of the National Center on Adoption and Permanency. “Anytime you put dollar signs and human beings in the same sentence, you have a recipe for disaster.”

Even though federal tax credits can subsidize private adoptions (as much as $14,300 per child for the adopting parents), there is no federal regulation of the industry. Relevant laws—governing everything from allowable financial support to how birth parents give their consent to an adoption—are made at the state level and vary widely. Some state statutes, for example, cap birth-mother expenses, while others don’t even address the issue. Mississippi allows birth mothers six months to change their mind; in Tennessee, it’s just three days. After the revocation period is over, it’s “too bad, so sad,” says Renee Gelin, president of Saving Our Sisters, an organization aimed at helping expectant parents preserve their families. “The mother has little recourse.”

Liversidge founded the nonprofit AdoptMatch, which describes itself as a “mobile app and online resource” that aims to “increase an expectant parent’s accessibility to qualified adoptive parents and ethical adoption professionals.” She says the hodgepodge of state statutes invites abuse: “Anyone that knows or learns the system—it doesn’t take much—can exploit those loopholes very easily for financial gain.”

Thirteen former ANLC employees, whose time at the organization spanned from 2006 to 2015, were interviewed for this story. Many asked to remain anonymous, out of fear of retaliation from the Gindis or ANLC. (The couple has filed multiple suits, including for defamation, over the years.) “The risk is too great for my family,” wrote one former employee in a text to TIME and Newsy. But whether on or off the record, the former employees told largely similar stories of questionable practices at an organization profiting off both adoptive and expectant parents. “These are such vulnerable people,” says one former employee. “They deserve more than greed.”

The Gindis have long faced questions about their adoption work. In 2006, the Orange County district attorney filed a scathing complaint contending that while operating Adoption Network, the couple had committed 11 violations, including operating as a law firm without an attorney on staff and falsely advertising Carol as having nursing degrees. Admitting no wrongdoing, the Gindis agreed to pay a $100,000 fine.

Since around that time, the Gindis’ exact involvement with ANLC has been difficult to discern amid a web of other companies, brands and titles. They both declined interview requests, but Allan did respond to emailed questions, explaining that he plays what he termed “an advertising role” for ANLC, including for the company’s current president, Lauren Lorber (the Gindis’ daughter), who took over the law practice in 2015. Before that, an attorney named Kristin Yellin owned ANLC. Former employees, though, say that despite an outwardly delineated setup, Allan in particular has remained heavily involved in ANLC operations. As far back as 2008, even though Yellin was the titular owner, “everyone knew that Allan Gindi ran it,” according to former employee Cary Sweet. (Sweet and other employees were plaintiffs in a 2010 discrimination and unlawful business practices lawsuit against ANLC. The company denied the allegations and the parties settled for an amount that Sweet says she isn’t allowed to reveal but called “peanuts.”)

In an interview, Yellin bristled at the idea that Allan Gindi was in charge during her ownership period, saying, “I realized what the Gindis’ role was and how to put boundaries on that.” Lorber, who declined an interview for this story, wrote via email that Allan has been a “leader” in adoption marketing. He maintains, also by email, that over a 25-year period, each attorney for whom he has provided his “highly specialized marketing services” has been “more than satisfied.” In an earlier text message, Allan also characterized the reporting for this story as “an attack on the wonderful work that Adoption Network has done and continues to do.”

Sweet, who worked with both expectant and adoptive parents at ANLC from 2008 to 2011, says she wasn’t aware of Klupp’s experience but remembers a situation involving a staff member’s threatening to call child protective services on a mother if she didn’t place her child for adoption. In a 2011 deposition taken as part of Sweet’s lawsuit, Yellin stated that the employee in question had told her that they had conveyed to the mother that “if you end up not going through with this, you know social services will probably be back in your life.” Yellin said that she found the comment inappropriate in context but did not perceive it as threatening or coercive.

Lorber, who has owned ANLC since late 2015, wrote in an email that she’s unaware of any incidents in which birth mothers were told they would have to pay back expenses if they chose not to place their child. But Klupp isn’t the only expectant mother to say she felt pressured by ANLC. Gracie Hallax placed two children through ANLC, in 2017 and 2018. Although the company arranged for lodging during her pregnancy (including, she says, in a bedbug-infested motel), she recalls an ANLC representative’s telling her that she could have to pay back expenses if she backed out of the adoptions. Madeline Grimm, a birth mother who placed her child through ANLC in 2019, also says she was informed that she might have to return expense money if she didn’t go through with the adoption. “That was something that I would think of if I was having any kind of doubt,” she says. “Like, well, sh-t, I’d have to pay all this back.”

The experiences described by Klupp, Hallax and Grimm fit a pattern of practices at ANLC that former employees say were concerning. Many describe a pervasive pressure to bring people—whether birth parents or adoptive couples—in the door. This was driven, at least in part, they say, by a “profit sharing” model of compensation in which, after meeting certain targets, employees could earn extra by signing up more adoptive couples or completing more matches. Former employees say birth mothers who did multiple placements through ANLC were sometimes referred to as “frequent flyers.” (Lorber and Yellin both say they have never heard that term.)

“The whole thing became about money and not about good adoption practices,” says one former employee. As they saw it, ANLC made a priority of “bringing in the next check.”

Adoptive parents, former employees say, were sometimes provided inaccurate statistics on how often the company’s attempts to matchmake were successful. “They almost made it seem like birth mothers were lining up to give their babies away,” says one. “That’s not reality.” (Yellin says in the 2011 deposition that the data were outdated, not inaccurate.) Clients pay their fees in two nonrefundable installments, one at the beginning of the process and another after matching with a birth mother. As a result, former employees say, if the adoption fell through, there was little financial incentive for ANLC to rematch the parents, and those couples were routinely not presented to other birth mothers. “Counselors were being pressured to do this by the higher-ups,” claims one former employee, recalling instructions to “not match couples that are not bringing in money. Period.”

Some prospective adoptive parents whom the company deemed harder to match—those who were overweight, for example, say former employees—were given a limited agreement that timed out, rather than the standard open-ended contract. There was also a separate agreement for those willing to adopt Black or biracial babies, for which the company offered its services at a discount. (In her 2011 deposition, Yellin acknowledged that there were multiple versions of the agreement and providing staff with obesity charts. When asked if obesity was a reason clients got a limited agreement, she said, “Specifically because they were obese, no.” In regard to whether what a couple looked like was considered, she responded, “I can only speculate. I do not know.”)

Former ANLC employees also allege the company would encourage pregnant women to relocate to states where the adoption laws were more favorable and finalizations more likely. “I believe it’s called venue hunting,” one recalls. And while that former employee made sure to note that ANLC did produce some resoundingly positive, well-fitting adoptions, they say the outcome was largely a matter of luck, “like throwing spaghetti on a refrigerator to see if it’ll stick.”

Yellin acknowledges that when she took over the company in 2007, “there was a feeling that some of the adoption advisers had felt pressured just to make matches.” But she says she worked to address that and other issues. Yellin says she put an end to the use of the limited agreement, and denies that ANLC ever advised birth mothers to relocate to other states to make an adoption easier. She also says she wasn’t aware of any instances of birth mothers’ being coerced into placing their babies. Other practices, though, she defended. Charging lower fees to parents willing to adopt babies of any race makes business sense, Yellin says. “Their marketing costs were lower. That’s just the reality of it.” Lorber maintains that fee structure stopped in 2019. More broadly, she noted that of the thousands of parties that ANLC has worked with over the years, the complaint rate is less than half of 1% and “that is one track record to be proud of!”

But ANLC’s practices over the years could have legal implications. Experts say that reports of any organization’s putting pressure on birth parents to go through with an adoption would raise concerns about whether those parents placed their children under duress—which can be grounds for invalidating consent and potentially overturning adoptions. And ANLC may be violating consumer-protection laws with a clause in its agreement that makes clients “agree not to talk negatively about ANLC’s efforts, service, positions, policies and employees with anyone, including potential Birth Parents, other adoption-related entities or on social media and other Internet platforms.” The federal Consumer Review Fairness Act of 2016 makes contract clauses that restrict consumer reviews illegal, as does the 2014 California “Yelp” bill.

“It would certainly be unlawful,” says Paul Levy, an attorney with the consumer-advocacy organization Public Citizen, who reviewed the agreement. “If they put this in the contract, what do they have to hide?”

Stories of enticement and pressure tactics in the private-adoption industry abound. Mother Goose Adoptions, a middle-man organization in Arizona, has pitched a “laptop for life” program and accommodations in “warm, sunny Arizona.” A Is 4 Adoption, a facilitator in California, made a payment of roughly $12,000 to a woman after she gave birth, says an attorney involved in the adoption case. While the company says it “adheres to the adoption laws that are governed by the state of California,” the lawyer, who asked to remain anonymous because they still work on adoptions in the region, says they told A Is 4 Adoption’s owner, “You should not be paying lump sums. It looks like you’re buying a baby.”

Jessalynn Speight worked for ANLC in 2015 and says private adoption is rife with problems: “It’s much more rampant than anyone can understand.” Speight, whose nonprofit Tied at the Heart runs retreats for birth parents, worries that the industry sometimes turns into a cycle of dependency, as struggling women place multiple children as a means of financial support. (The same incentive may also encourage scamming adoptive birth parents, with purported birth parents who don’t actually intend to place a child for adoption or are never even pregnant.) Anne Moody, author of the 2018 book The Children Money Can Buy, about foster care and adoption, says the system can amount to “basically producing babies for money.”

Claudia Corrigan D’Arcy, a birth-parent advocate and birth mother who blogs extensively about adoption, says she routinely hears of women facing expense-repayment pressures. Some states, such as California and Nevada, explicitly consider birth-parent expenses an “act of charity” that birth parents don’t have to pay back. In other states, though, nothing prohibits adoption entities from trying to obligate birth parents to repay expenses when a match fails.

“How is that not blackmail?” D’Arcy asks, emphasizing that in most states, fraud or duress can be a reason for invalidating a birth parent’s consent. According to Debra Guston, adoption director for the Academy of Adoption & Assisted Reproduction Attorneys, conditioning support on a promise to repay or later demanding repayment if there is no placement is “at very least unethical.”

States are ostensibly in charge of keeping private-adoption entities in line. Agencies are generally licensed or registered with the relevant departments of health, human services or children and families. Attorneys practice under the auspices of a state bar. But even when misdeeds are uncovered, action may be anemic and penalties minimal. In 2007, Dorene and Kevin Whisler were set to adopt through the Florida-based agency Adoption Advocates. When the agency told the Whislers the baby was born with disabilities, the couple decided not to proceed with the adoption—but they later found out that the baby was healthy and had been placed with a different couple, for another fee. After news coverage of the case, Adoption Advocates found itself under investigation. In a 2008 letter to Adoption Advocates, the Florida department of children and families (DCF) wrote that it had found “expenses that are filed with the courts from your agency do not accurately reflect the expenses that are being paid to the natural mothers in many instances.” Although DCF temporarily put the organization on a provisional license, a spokesperson for the department says that after “enhanced monitoring for compliance,” it relicensed the company, and there have been no issues or complaints since. (When contacted, Adoption Advocates’ attorney replied that the company is “unable to respond to your inquiries regarding specific individuals or cases.”)

More recently, in 2018, the Utah department of human services (DHS) revoked the license of an agency called Heart and Soul Adoptions, citing violations ranging from not properly searching for putative fathers (a requirement in Utah) to insufficient tracking of birth-mother expenses. Rules prohibit anyone whose license is revoked from being associated with another licensed entity for five years. But a year later Heart and Soul owner Denise Garza was found to be working with Brighter Adoptions. DHS briefly placed Brighter on a conditional license for working with Garza but has since lifted all sanctions and never assessed any fines.

Enforcement is even harder when middlemen operate as consultants, facilitators or advertisers or under any number of other murky titles that critics believe are sometimes used to skirt regulations. There is little clarity on who is supposed to oversee these more amorphous intermediaries.

Jennifer Ryan (who sometimes goes by “Jennalee Ryan” or “Jennifer Potter”) was first a “facilitator” and is now a kind of middleman to adoption middle-men. Her “national online advertising service” refers expectant parents to lawyers (including her own son), facilitators and other intermediaries; as of November 2020, the company was charging these middlemen fees starting at $18,800 for each birth-mother match (with the idea that the cost is passed on to families). Ryan declined an interview but, in an email, she says she does approximately 400 matches annually. Among the websites Ryan operates are Chosen Parents and Forever After Adoptions, which both include a section that lists babies for adoption, sort of like a Craigslist ad. One example from last August: “AVAILABLE Indian (as in Southeast Asia India) Baby to be born in the state of California in 2021…Estimated cost of this adoption is $35000.”

Many advocates say they would like to see reforms to private adoption in the U.S. Even Yellin, a proponent of private-sector involvement in the adoption space, says there probably ought to be more regulation. But calls for systematic change have remained largely unheeded, and agreeing on exactly what should be done can be difficult.

Some believe the problem could be addressed with greater federal-level oversight—pointing to the foster-care system, which a division of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services helps administer, as an example (albeit an imperfect one). But Liversidge notes that family law has traditionally been a state issue and says that is where fixes should, and will likely need to, occur. She wants to see improvements such as an expansion of mandatory independent legal representation for birth parents, better tracking of adoption data and the reining in of excessive fees.

Illinois attempted to take a strong stand against adoption profiteering in a 2005 adoption-reform act, which barred out-of-state, for-profit intermediaries from engaging in adoption-related activities in the state. But Bruce Boyer, a law professor at Loyola University who championed the legislation, says, “We couldn’t get anyone to enforce it.” Only after much pushing and prodding, he adds, did advocates persuade the state to pursue a case against what Boyer called the “worst” offender: ANLC.

The Illinois attorney general filed a complaint in 2013 alleging that ANLC was breaking the law by offering and advertising adoption services in the state without proper licensing or approval. To fight the suit, ANLC retained a high-profile Chicago law firm, and within months, the parties had reached a settlement. ANLC agreed that it would not work directly with Illinois-based birth parents, but it did not admit any wrongdoing and called the resolution “fair and reasonable.” Boyer disagrees. “They caved,” he says of the state. “There were no meaningful consequences that came from a half-hearted attempt.” The attorney general’s office declined to comment.

What few changes have been made in adoption law are generally aimed at making the process easier for adoptive parents, who experts say tend to have more political and financial clout than birth parents. At the core of the inertia is lack of awareness. “There’s an assumption in this country that adoption is a win-win solution,” says Liversidge. “People don’t understand what’s going on.”

Many proponents of change would, at the very least, like to see private adoption move more toward a nonprofit model. “It’s a baby-brokering business. That’s really what it’s turned into,” says Kim Anderson, chief program officer at the Nebraska Children’s Home Society, a nonprofit that does private adoptions only in Nebraska (with a sliding fee based on income) and which rarely allows adoptive parents to pay expenses for expectant parents.

Whatever shape reform ends up taking—or mechanism it occurs through—advocates say it will require a fundamental shift and decommodification of how the country approaches private adoption. “A civilized society protects children and vulnerable populations. It doesn’t let the free market loose on them,” says Liversidge. Or, as Pertman puts it, “Children should not be treated the same as snow tires.”

Yellin kept working with ANLC as an attorney until late 2018. By then, she says adoption numbers had dropped significantly because of increased competition and a decreasing number of expectant mothers seeking to place their babies. But the company seems to still be very much in the adoption business. During the pandemic, Adoption Pro Inc., which operates ANLC, was approved for hundreds of thousands of dollars in stimulus loans, and its social media accounts suggest it has plenty of adoptive-parent clients. According to data from the search analytics service SpyFu, ANLC has also run hundreds of ads targeting expectant parents. For example, if you Googled the term “putting baby up for adoption” in January 2021, you might get shown an ANLC ad touting, “Financial & Housing Assistance Available.”

Meanwhile, Allan Gindi continues to play an advertising role for ANLC (and to use an “@adoptionnetwork.com” email address). Court documents connected to a bankruptcy case show that, in 2019, Gindi expected to make $40,000 per month in adoption-advertising income. (He says that number was not ultimately realized but did not provide any more details.) Lorber’s LinkedIn profile says that ANLC is a “$5 million dollar per year” business. “And that’s just one family in Southern California,” remarks Speight, who used to work for ANLC and who runs a birth-parent support nonprofit. “Think about all of the other adoption agencies where couples are paying even more money.”

Klupp’s Facebook feed still cycles through “memories” of posts she made when she was placing her son through ANLC. They’re mournful but positive, she says; in them, she tended to frame the decision as an unfortunate necessity that put her son in a loving home. “I thought everything was really great,” recalls Klupp, who has since immersed herself in the online adoption community. What she’s learned has slowly chipped away at the pleasant patina that once surrounded her adoption journey; such a shift is so common, it has a name, “coming out of the fog.”

“They take people who don’t have money and are scared, and they use your fear to set you up with an adoption that you can’t back out of,” Klupp says of the industry. “I’m sure even the parents that adopted my son … didn’t know half the stuff that went on behind the scenes. They probably paid this agency to find them a baby, and that’s what they cared about. And this agency takes this money from these people who are desperate.” Klupp isn’t anti-adoption; in fact, she’s been trying to adopt out of foster care. The problem, she says, is the profit. Today, she believes she has a better understanding of the extent to which ANLC influenced her and now views her decision as, at the very least, deliberately ill informed, if not outright coerced. She says she’s taken to deleting the Facebook posts about her son’s adoption as the reminders pop up—they’re too painful.

“It seems like the agencies have some universal handbook on how to convince doubtful moms,” she says. “I know in my heart that I would have kept my son if I had had the right answers.”

[Link in the notes]

#adoption #adoptees #human adoption #adopt #private adoption #domestic adoption #tq posts #long post

[fuwafuwamedb]

Kishi Nami Services Pt 8 (Enkidu, Gilgamesh, Ishtar)

Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

___

She entered the building before the time that they had agreed. He could see the dress, all lace and floral, flaring at the hips and tied carefully with a ribbon at the waist.

For Shinji?

The mop bucket of a boy was far too eager to grasp her hand and yank her the final bit of distance to the host’s podium near the door. There was too much in that look, far too many plans in the kid’s mind. He must have looked into her as well.

“Hello Moon Cell Heir,” he heard from Enkidu’s position in the restaurant.

“Matou… Why don’t we enjoy the evening together. I run my Kishi Nami services. That’s all.”

Good girl.

Skirt the subject, send him away.

She called for a table, the fool to the very end. Her hand motioned him deeper into the restaurant as he had feared she would do.

Damn.

There was time to scare one of them out and go to Hakuno. If Hakuno ran out, it would be more fortuitous. He could bring her home and fix this foolishness immediately. He could have her curled up in bed and pleading forgiveness for this whole mess. If Shinji ran first, well- he could skip to dessert with Hakuno and then take her home. She held more interest in desserts anyway. It wouldn’t be a loss.

“Gil,” Enkidu’s voice whispered.

“What is it?”

“He slipped something into Hakuno’s drink.”

Gilgamesh moved to shift his attention deeper into the restaurant, but there was no sign of the two anymore.

“She’s not drinking yet, but-“

“Tell the fool we hired to get the job done. Let’s be done with this. I have plans in place.”

His view shifted back to the door.

Ishtar had arrived.

No longer would he be able to simply coast in to get Hakuno and leave. If she came out, she would pass Ishtar and then find that he hadn’t arrived to meet her. As much as he disliked the prospect, if she found that he was avoiding the dates she had made for him, she would compare him to fools like Matou.

“Damn it.”

“What is it? I’m watching Hakuno’s table.”

Gilgamesh adjusted his suit, grimacing. “That useless fool is here. It looks like she coordinated her outfit with Hakuno as well.”

“What do you want to do about that?”

He glanced deeper into his car, towards the back seats.

There were a few garment bags.

“Did you pick up my dry cleaning?”

“Ah… I like the lady at the shop. She does this really cute wink when she thinks she’s being clever and I think she’s trying to figure out whether I’m a boy or a girl… as well as if I’m single.”

That was fine.

There was one shirt in particular that he’d left in his dry cleaning that he knew would suit the occasion. Rather than the blue shirt he had on, he swapped to the red one, the black jacket was swapped for white. He paused as he caught sight of a lacy pocket square.

“Enkidu, who’s pocket square?”

“Gil, you ass. I got that for Siduri to wipe her fake tears with during meetings with upset companies.”

“A pocket square?”

“Sometimes she gets those bored tears in her eyes and I thought it would be funny. She could tuck it into her jacket’s breast pocket.”

Gil lifted his head up, eyeing the restaurant as he quickly worked to fold the thing up and shove it into his jacket. “Enkidu, when’s the last time you saw a woman with a breast pocket? It’s impractical. The woman would have to be flat chested to manage it.”

“…We should bring breast pockets to women’s fashion.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Gil agreed, climbing out of the car and looking both ways quickly before he hurried up to the restaurant door.

At least he’d opted for them both to be wearing Bluetooth. The small earpiece was barely out of sync with his attire, only looking odd because this was a place to eat and socialize.

“Ah,” the waiter recognized him immediately. “Sir, your table is-“

Gilgamesh pulled a hundred from his pocket. “Take me to the table and then find the cheapest, poorest swill in your restaurant and dilute it with vinegar. Fill our glasses with that.”

“…Sir, this is an honest restaurant.”

Gil pulled out two more bills.

“And we cater to all of our client’s needs. This way please.”

“Just a moment.”

Gilgamesh held the man back, opening his wallet a bit further and pulling out another couple bills.

“Tell the chef and the team working this evening that, in any way they can think of, if they can ruin the mood and this woman’s hope for any future communications between her and myself while at the same time continuing to look like a perfect professional restaurant, I will pay handsomely.”

A couple hosts nearby perked up, moving to his side.

“We have a violinist here tonight.”

“Perfect.”

“I do believe the fondue option in the appetizers can get a bit hot.”

“What a blessing to know you know how to shut such a useless mouth as hers up.”

The group rushed back, throwing open the doors and murmuring to the others. Gilgamesh smiled as he followed his host towards the table of absolute waste.

“Cheap,” Enkidu cooed in his ear. “So cheap, Gil.”

“I’ve been roped into three dates now with this woman.”

“I didn’t say it was wrong,” Enkidu argued, “I’m just saying this tactic is so cheap. It’s also luring away the hosts that I need on my end. You’re being far too extra today.”

He was being no such thing.

Ishtar stared up at him, frowning at the lack of blue in his attire.

“Ishtar.”

“Gilgamesh, what a pleasant surprise! Here I thought that my blind date would be with someone that I didn’t know at all. This must be fate.”

“The wine,” Gilgamesh called for.

“I already called for wine,” she told him.

“Yes, and I’m sure your choice was useless. Taste is not acquired, as one would be led to believe. Either you are capable of appreciating something from the start or you simply are not meant to be in the presence of something refined.”

The chairs were too comfortable, but he wouldn’t complain now. The restaurant was full on this side, which meant that they would be moved to Hakuno’s side if things went south.

He would spare her the sight of the failure here.

“Hakuno’s drinking her spiked drink,” Enkidu hissed

Damn.

How long would they have at this rate? He would need to take Hakuno directly home before something happened.

Straight face. Finish this.

“Appetizers, on the house,” the host nearby told them.

The first one returned, setting the glasses down on the table and making a show of uncorking the bottle and pouring their glasses. The elaborate song and dance, far too obvious in its innocence, was making Ishtar grin. Her hands took the glass before it could be handed to her. Her sip was not even close to a sip, but rather a chug.

She paused a second later, spluttering.

“O-oh god. WHAT IS THIS!?”

Gilgamesh accepted his glass, sipping at the foul concoction. “This is wine, is it not obvious? This is the 31’ merlot, if I’m not mistaken.”

“This is-agh- not! The merlot!”

She gagged as she spoke, moving to grab her napkin only to find it gone.

The host nearby handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she growled, wiping her tongue like a savage only to gasp. “OH GOD! WHAT IS- IS THIS WASHED WITH GARLIC?!”

Impressive. He hadn’t thought about that.

“Miss,” the hosts scowled at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I SMELL GARLIC ON THIS! IS THIS ONE OF THE KITCHEN TOWELS?!”

She threw the towel at them, leaving him the chance to pick it up and sniff it.

The smell was strong.

“Ishtar, this smells like it was freshly laundered… with vanilla?”

“Once again, great sense, sir!” The hosts smiled. “Most people would barely catch a whiff of the vanilla.”

“Bring me some juice then!” Ishtar slammed her glass down, ruining the tablecloth. “AND A NEW NAPKIN!”

The two hosts were already grinning like fools as they hurried back.

Ishtar reached for one of the sticks and forked some of the broccoli. She dunked it into the fondue, pulling it out and huffing a bit.

“…Anyway… It’s um… It’s good that this is happening, as I was saying before. You and I… We have this nice round and round history.”

She bit into her food, pausing a second later.

“AHH- AHH-“

Her whole face was paling, her mouth hanging open. She reached around, trying to grasp for his napkin as she whined and began to almost cry.

“Ah, yes.” Gilgamesh unfolded his napkin, setting it neatly on his lap. “Manners are important, aren’t they? I find that I have no desire to stay in the same proximity as someone who looked like a horse when partaking in something as mundane as a bit of cheese and broccoli.”

She spat the food onto the table, shrieking in outrage.

“THEY ARE TAMPERING WITH OUR FOOD!”

Gilgamesh took one of the sticks and coated another one of the pieces of broccoli, taking a bite of the half that hadn’t been coated in cheese.

“Wha- HOW ARE YOUR NOT SCREAMING?”

“Why would I scream over something this simple?” Gilgamesh set the rest of the broccoli on his plate, frowning at her. “Go home, woman. Do not seek me out again, not even by signing up for the same service that I am using. I’m assuming you got the number from Siduri’s desk during your visit the other week.”

“I-I don’t know what you me-“

“May I take your orders?” the host came, smiling proudly. “Miss, we brought your juice.”

Ishtar stared at the glass, then to him.

“Th-this is… tampered with.”

“Host,” Gilgamesh held his hand out.

He took a healthy swig, downing the apple juice a moment before he turned and tapped the shoulder of the person behind him.

“Is this to taste?”

The kid glanced to his parents before grinning and taking a sip. The boy, no older than six or seven, beamed happily.

“Well?”

“It’s the best apple juice!”

“Would you like the rest?”

Ishtar screeched again, storming off towards the exit.

“I HATE YOU!” she screamed his way.

“My apologies, sir,” the host told him, still smiling.

“…Can I still have the apple juice?” the boy asked.

“I’ll pay for your family’s whole meal,” Gilgamesh replied, ruffling the kid’s hair and leaning back in his own seat. “Host, bring me a water.”

He needed to get Hakuno out of here quickly, after all.

“Hakuno’s still upright,” Enkidu told him over his earpiece, “but she won’t last long. Shinji motioned for the check when Hakuno was looking towards the commotion that Ishtar made.”

Gilgamesh stood up, leaving a donation to the boy’s table before he went to pay at the front. 

There was no time to waste.

#drabble #drabbles

[channy-mae]

Rinse and Repeat

You wipe the sweat from your face with the back of your hand. Letting out a sigh of relief that the work you’ve slaved over for weeks is finally complete. Being a wedding planner was a very exciting but stress filled job, and the couple you were currently planning for raised at that stress any chance they got. The bride being a bit of a diva when it came to decorations, deciding and changing her mind nearly everyday. Shaking it off due to the fact that the one thing she pegged you on was complete now and you could finally see your boyfriend who you neglected for work. You, of course, missed him greatly since being away from each other without any communication, including texts, was a bit much. Smiling to yourself thinking about him you gather your belongings on your desk and make your way out of the office. Sending a slight wave and pity-filled smile towards Hyejin, who has to work overtime for another even more problematic client. Once you reach your car you sit and taking out our phone and toy with it. Should I call him or make it a surprise. If I surprise him then we’ll both be a bit more excited. You giggle at the combination of your thoughts and getting to be able to see your boyfriend. Starting your car you make your way to your shared apartment, you turn the radio on wanting to fill the silence of the car and Beautiful Liar by a sub-unit in VIXX called LR comes on. Humming along to the beautifully sad song you arrive at your apartment. Rushing, you close the door of your car and hurry inside, quickly making your way to your apartment number you swiftly open the door. You were met by a dark hallway and two pairs of shoes. One of which belonged to a female since they were black open toed pumps, picking them up you examined them and saw they weren’t your size or even yours to begin with. Tossing them back to the ground you don’t bother taking off your shoes in search for an explanation from your boyfriend. Looking around your place the situation looking even more dire the further you walk in, clothes thrown all over both male and female. You bend over and pick up a sweatshirt you remember giving to your boyfriend for your 2nd year anniversary. Tears start to weld in your eyes as you realize what’s happening. You make it to your bedroom to see it cracked open slightly, pushing the door wider the tears that hadn’t fell streamed down your face. “Jihu…” Your voice barely above a whisper. He looks at you guilt written all over his face when he sees you, the girl he was sleeping with sits up giving you a questioning look, clearly not having known he was in a relationship. “Y/N jagi...listen I know what it looks like.” Jihu starts before he can finish his sentence you were out the front door and in your car. You start the car and drive, not having a particular destination in mind you just wanted to escape. You had to pull over to the side of the road, the tears were blurring your vision making it difficult to drive. The only sound in the car was your loud heartbroken sobs and hiccups.

 Why? That was the only thought on your mind. Your phone started ringing and you glance down at it to see your bestfriend’s name on the screen, you pick up the phone without hesitation, “ Y/N, hey I was wondering if I could borrow your skirt, you know the short..” you cut her off sobbing her name into the phone. “Y/N where are you I’m coming.” She demands your location. Looking around you give her the best you can of where you are, not too long later she shows up knocking on your window. You unlock the car and she gets in, upon seeing you see wraps her arms around you in a hug. Your sobs only get louder at that and the tears rush down faster, it took around 20 minutes for you to calm down enough to speak and be understood. “He cheated on me! I walked in the apartment to see her stuff thrown all over the place. He tried to give me some bullshit excuse about it wasn’t what I thought.” As you recall the events you started to get angry. “What! That’s bullshit how could he do that in your bed, who was the hussy he was with?” she exclaimed. All the sadness you had disappeared and turned instead into anger. How dare he cheat on you, after 2 and a half years together he decides that he wants someone else. You could understand if he broke up with you beforehand but this was low and it pissed you off. “Fine, let him be with some penny whore, we’ll just find you someone better to occupy you.” your friend smiles at you. You could see the wheels turning in her head, and all you could do was shake yours. “ No, whatever it is, I just want to binge eat and be mad about this.” You try to reason, she doesn’t even bother listening to you as she gets out the car and pulls you from the driver’s seat and pushes you to the passenger side. She drove you both back to her place and dragged you inside. Taking you to her room she heads straight to the closet. “You know what will help you, going to the club.” her voice was muffled from being inside the closet in search of what you assumed were clubbing clothes. “I don’t need to go to the club, I need to sleep this day off.” the toll of everything finally hitting you, causing exhaustion to seep in. But she ignored you instead choosing to toss a lacy black dress at your face. “Put that on.” was all she said before heading back in the closet. Deciding to just go with it you put on the dress, feeling the tight fabric hugging all your curves and assets made you feel a bit better. You glanced in the mirror and saw that the dress was a bit short only coming to just above mid-thigh but was still classy and sexy. The neck was a slight v, and overall you liked the way it looked on you. You heard a wolf whistle from behind you and saw that she was looking you up and down, “If I didn’t love dick I’d totally tap that.” she gives your butt a swift swat and proceeds to turn the shower on. Getting really took you both about an hour, it was 10 at night by the time you two were on your way to a club in town. The club you pulled up to was one of the hottest and well known places in town, the line damn near curved around the block.

Getting out the car you received a couple stares as your friend dragged you to the the bouncer at the door. He gave her a nod before letting you both inside the club, you look at your friend eyes wide with questions, in response she giggles. Inside the club music was blasting from the speakers, on the dance floor people were grinding against each other clearly drunk, others were at the bar ordering or drinking. You turn back to face your friend to see she disappeared with some guy, typical since she’s always doing that. Weaving your way around people to get to the bar you order a drink and sip on it observing the people around you a bit longer before you do anything else. The one drink you ordered turned into 4 more and you soon found yourself on the dance floor grinding on some guy, his hands were gripping your waist and he pulled you closer than what you already were. You shake your ass on his growing bulge and slightly moaned out, it had been so long since you last had sex. “You wanna take this to my place sexy?’ The guy whispered closely in your ear. You quickly nodded your head and you both made your way out of the club. Hailing a cab, once in you both clashed into each other, the kiss showing just how much you wanted each other. Pulling away to catch your breath the guy continued his onslaught on your neck lightly biting and blowing air on the area. You reach down and palm at his cock that even though he was wearing jeans felt deliciously thick. You both are to busy with each other to see that you arrive until the cab drive clears his throat, the guy pays for it and grabs your hand to enter his place. Once inside you quickly try to rip his clothes off starting with his shirt, your mouth waters when you see his chest he smirks at you and gestures for you to strip off your dress. You quickly do revealing your black lace bra and no panties. “Naughty girl going around in no panties.” His voice filled with lust. “By the way my name is Yoongi, remember it cause it’s what you’re gonna be screaming.” Once he said that he picks you up and your legs wrap around him, once both of your clothes were all off the real fun began. You get on your knees and give Yoongi’s cock kitten licks to tease him, he grunts before taking a fist-full of your hair “Don’t tease babygirl.” He pulls your face closer and you open your mouth to take him in. Hollowing your cheeks your tongue licks the underside of his cock. Your hands slowly make their way up his thighs to his balls, you caress them and lightly tug, that caused him to moan out and thrust into your mouth.

His dick hitting the back of your throat forcing you to gag, instead of pulling back he keeps it there, your panties were soaked from your juices.  Pulling out of your mouth he hauls you up and onto the bed, you gaze at him your lustful eyes meeting his own. His hand stroking his dick at a slow pace, his other hand touches your soaked pussy. He slowly inserts a finger into you to his second knuckle, drawing it in and out at a slow pace before adding another. “Fuck your tight, I can’t wait to be balls deep in you.” he says as he attempts to add a third finger but gives up. You moan out, the feeling in your stomach getting tighter at each thrust of his fingers. Suddenly he draws them out and you almost whine at the loss of it before his replaces his fingers with his cock. Thrusting into you he keeps a steady but rough pace, pleasing you both. You wrap your legs around his to encourage him to more with a bit more force. “Ah, ah Yoongi I’m so close please.” You breathlessly moan out. He grabs your leg and lifts it to his neck, the new position allowed him more room to move and for him to hit your g-spot. You gasp out and your eyes roll to the back of your head slightly, smirking from realization he aimed that spot hitting it relentlessly. The coil in your lower stomach getting tighter. Drawing you closer to your release. “Fuck, fuck.” Yoongi repeated that his hand making its way to your throat. He lightly squeezed cutting off your air circulation, the coil in your lower stomach exploded and your pussy tightened more around him. It didn’t take long for him to follow you into bliss, Yoongi rolls off of you tired, you cuddle into him falling asleep satisfied. You awake the next morning to someone shouting, making your already pounding head worst. Groggily you rub your eyes and sit up, “Yah! What’s with the noise so early in the morn..” you start and stop as you grasp the situation. The memories of last night swarming back, from the breakup and betrayal to the amazing sex with Yoongi. You look at see a woman looking at you with disgust written on her face, tears leaving her eyes. “Mina… let’s talk about this.” Yoongi hops up and you realized you fucked up.

#kpop #kpop smut #bts #bts smut #kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #smut #min yoongi #bts suga #channy

[hosierydarling]

Pure

Denise huffed, blowing a rebellious strand of hair from her face, and shook her head. She was in the market for a new kitten, but try as she might she could not find one to satisfy her needs. Oh she knew it was wrong to be picky, as all of them needed a nice warm comforting home. But, picky she was, for she wanted one to match her own personality. She had been to so many pet shops across the city. Frustration was settling in. But, here was one last stop on her list. It did not make her hopeful, standing by her car in a lot void of any other vehicles in a rundown strip mall. She looked up at the sign: Sam’s Pet Emporium. She shook her head and felt a bit self conscious in her power suit, getting the feeling that she was about to waste her time; letting some lecherous geezer eye her up. But, nevertheless, she started to walk across the pavement towards the shop. It was so quiet here, ghost town quiet. The only sound were her heels rapping hard across the parking lot, hell if she strained her hearing she could probably hear her stockinged thighs swishing together under her short grey skirt. She paused at the door, grateful that at least the animals in the window looked healthy bright-eyed and perky. Setting her brow in determination, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. The space within was in direct contrast to the dilapidated strip mall. It was immaculate. Bright and pleasing, despite that telltale odor you get in any pet shop. The smell of animal, feed and straw bedding for cages was not too unpleasant, merely familiar to Denise for all the shops she had been in within the past week. Oddly though, there was no one about. This worried her, bringing her back to the idea of some greasy lout staring at her from between aisles. She sauntered down one line, casting her eyes around for the area reserved for felines, at least content to browse until someone realized there was a client. She found the kittens and immediately forgot all else. There were many and they were adorable and seemed excited to see her. She was swiftly wrapped up in their presence, the adorable feisty calico pawing that the cage to get to her, the noble looking siamese standing motionless and statuesque staring right at her, the shy and fluffy Himalayan wrapped in a ball at the back of her cage, and the pacing feral looking Bengal. All beautiful. The decision would be hard. She stood there taking in each one, wondering which would suit her best. A light cough disturbed her attention to the cats and she turned to be visited by another beautiful vision. A gorgeous brunette was watching her as she regarded the kittens. She was dressed as professionally as she was, a white thin black striped blouse over a tan velvet skirt. Long legs wrapped in sheer silks and amazing peep toe pumps. She was so out of place that Denise immediately took her for another customer. The woman stepped close and Denise’s eyes couldn’t leave those legs. Her mouth suddenly dry she almost didn’t register that the woman had spoken. “They are delightful, aren’t they?” she asked. Denise replied, “I’m having a hard time choosing one, I’ve been having no luck all across town.” “Oh, well, let’s see if I can help…” The woman took one step backwards and regarded her intensely, as if assessing her. She tapped her chin with one long cream lacquered nail. “Hmm..” the woman pondered. She smiled and nodded knowingly and replied, “You want to take the siamese.” Denise arched a brow, and placed a hand on her hip. “Why the siamese, I mean she is beautiful, but she doesn’t do much…” “Ah, yes very deceptive isn’t she. She hides behind a veneer of grace, nobility and beauty. But don’t let her fool you, she is a wicked little vixen. I think she fits you perfectly.” The woman smiled and turned again to regard the kittens, the siamese in particular. “That’s quite a forward assumption, you know a lot about animals?” She laughed a delightful sound that hit Denise right at the core. “I should, otherwise I wouldn’t be someone suited to be owning a pet shop.” She extended a hand, “I am Samantha.” Denise’s jaw just dropped, this was the owner. She couldn’t believe it. Intrigued, she nevertheless acted offended by the woman’s assumptions. “Why does that make her perfect for me, you know a lot about people too??” “Oh you have no idea…” She smiled again and continued, “You are all wrapped up in the look of the professional, and that may me proper for your job, I am not refuting that. But, little things like the height of your heels, the inclusion of stockings in your outfit, the amount of cleavage you are showing, even your hairstyle…these are all personality indicators. You, my dear, are hiding something wild…” She nodded her head to the siamese cage, “Much like that beauty there…”

Denise’s eyes widened, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work to deny anything. She felt her cheeks redden, even more so when Samantha nodded again at her own unspoken confession. Eager to get out of this conversation she croaked (once finding her voice again), “H-How much?” Samantha picked up the siamese’s cage and walked towards the front desk, knowing Denise would follow simply to watch her move. She placed the cage on the counter and stepped around it. “She’s going for six hundred dollars, but as you have had a hard time in your search and have come to my little shop. I can let her go for three…and just be satisfied in the fact that you made the right decision.” Denise reached into her purse for her credit card and slid it into Samantha’s hand. As the woman ran the card, Denise looked at the counter taking in all of the various cheap upsell items. Perhaps she should purchase come cat toys and feed from the generous woman. She paused, her eyes falling on a lightly penciled aged note taped haphazardly to the bottom of the register. ASK ABOUT OUR SPECIAL DEALS ON PUREBRED COCK AND PUSSY!

Denise did a double take and read the note again. She couldn’t believe it really said what it did. “Umm, Samantha, I think some kid most have left this here whilst you were busy elsewhere in the store, god alone knows how long it has been here…” She indicated the note. “No, I put that there. Its not very noticeable on purpose. We don’t want to rile everyone’s interest, only those who have an interest themselves would actually bring it up..” she grinned another of her knowing grins and pointed to a black curtained alcove behind the register. “Would you care to shop some more?” Tentatively, Denise took a step towards the curtain, much to the delight of Samantha. Every response she gave up gave the shop owner even more certainty as to the mind of her client. Stepping through Denise gasped in shock, eyes widened. The room was lined with cages of naked women, stacked five high in some places. Every woman was gagged, even though they were not making any noises anyway. Several of them had enormous dicks bobbing between their thighs. Denise couldn’t help herself, she was excited….and noticeably so. Samantha pushed her forward gently as to enter the chamber with her. “Lovely, aren’t they? Please look around…” Denise found herself drifting to a trio of women whose cages were more ornate than the rest. Bending slightly, she read the name tags on these three: Jamie, Bobbi and Brandy. She looked into each cage. These women were so beautifully formed, amazingly curved, but each had a massive cock jutting from between their thighs. The cock on the woman named Bobbi was actually lashed up in rope and tied severely to one of the bottom bars of the cage. Brandy was wearing a ball harness that stuck each of the fat seed pods through holes in the accessory, bloating them tightly and causing them to be flushed purple. Jamie’s dick was adorned with two cock rings, one at the base and one just past the crown. Each of the women also had a sort of speculum device buried deep into their anal cavity, widening the hole and allowing easy access. Despite this sight and the deliciousness of the beauties restrained within, Samantha quickly noticed that most of Denise’s fascination was with the cages themselves. As the woman took in her three pets, she was most resolutely stroking and clutching the bars. They both moved to the front of the cages to look upon the gagged features of all three, whom lunged forwards in their cages as they saw Samantha, eagerly anxious to have contact with the woman. Denise looked behind her very conscious of how close the pet owner was to her. “Would you like to own one of these treasures, Denise?” She tingled hearing her name escape those lips, briefly wondering how she knew it. “I…I..” “No!” She leaned forwards and whispered to Denise’s ear. “These three are MINE!” Her hand smacked on Jamie’s cage hard. Denise and the three girls jumped at the reverberating rattle of the bars. Samantha stood back up and with an amused smirk continued, “They would not be a good match for you…they need me…” Denise screwed her eyes shut tight and couldn’t believe what she was feeling. She wanted to be in the position of the three girls, serving this woman. She wanted to be matched to Samantha. “I..I….need you too.” Samantha laughed, making Denise dissolve under the sound. It was not mocking, it was beautiful. It was as if her words had delighted the pet owner. “I know you do Denise, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you. I told you….i know people…” Samantha strode forward and bent Denise over, curling the woman’s hands round a bar on Brandy’s cage and a bar on Jamie’s cage, and directly facing Bobbi in the middle cage, the frisky blonde was eyeing Denise and jumping in the cage despite her cock being tied down to the base of the cage. The owner ripped open Denise’s blouse allowing large lush tits to spill and heave before Bobbi’s eyes, and then pushed up the woman’s skirt to expose garters, stocking tops and a bare ass. “Mmm, oh I greatly approve!” Samantha admired the beautiful bent woman. Denise gasped in shock as the woman pawed at her, exposing her to her three prized pets. “What do you think of Denise, girls?” Samantha stepped closer to the cages allowing the three to ogle Denise, to a chorus of muffled enthusiastic whimpers, each girl straining to get closer to the dangling breasts just outside the cage. “Mm that’s what I thought, “ Sam smirked and stepped away to pull a short crop off the wall. “Here is what is going to happen Denise….I am going to smack your ass…..ten times…. If you wish me to stop, I will stop, give you the siamese for free and let you be on your way. If you do not tell me to stop and I get through the ten lashes….you are going to give yourself to me….forever…Do you understand?” Denise swiftly nodded and noted the expression on Samantha’s face. An expression that said: since you are not outraged, pulling your skirt in place and stalking about of here now, I have already won you. Denise realized that that look was the obvious reaction anyway, since she was dying to submit to this woman, and have her own ornately gilded cage. The slaps when they came were none to gentle, echoing a desire to possess. Denise cried out to every slap but not in outrage, but in hunger for more, her sex was already dripping along her thighs to her stocking tops, her long legs spread whorishly for the beauty who was driving her wild with lust for submission. After finishing applying each loving strike, Samantha unzipped and slid Denise’s skirt off of her. Then unzipped her own, letting it slide down her silky nyloned legs, exposing a long cock which she began to stroke to awakened hardness. She stepped up behind Denise and slid that massive thickening girth deep into Denise’s velvet sheathe and began to fuck her new girl in earnest right in front of a trio moaning so hungrily for their new sister and their Mistress. Denise was so surprised at the show of emotion, no affection!, in the eyes of the girls that she was shocked when the turgid meat spread and invaded her folds, and she was pushed into the bars, rattling the cages even moreso and causing even more excitement in the trio that continued to try to lunge towards the heated activity. Denise could do nothing but moan, as the center of attention of all four of these gorgeous woman, Denise could only think of all four of those dicks using and abusing her poor sensitive pussy. She had already surrendered. She cried out Samantha’s name and shuddered and bucked as she was plowed by this amazing woman’s cock. Her heated breath and panting, caused her chest to heave pressed against the bars as she was, gripping them tight in her hands. Samantha continued to fuck her endlessly, even as her pussy gave way to the thrusting of that meat and gushed all over Samantha’s dick, thighs tightly squeezing the engorged length up inside of her. “Mmm, such a good little whore. I intend to add you to my beautiful treasures.” Samantha groaned and released a torrent of hot seed up into that soft pussy, stuffing her full of cream. She then pulled out of the woman, and beckoned, “Come slut, help me release my girls.” They set about letting Brandy, Bobbi and Jamie out and Samantha guided them all over to a seat and spread her legs wide as she sat. Bobbi hugged Denise close, and Brandy and Jamie each kissed her lips and arm as all four sisters crawled towards Samantha. Without need of command the three pets began to lap up the mess adorning their Mistress’s still rigid meat, and Denise pushed forwards between Jamie and Brandy to also assist in cleaning up her new Mistress. Samantha arched in her chair and issued such a self satisfied moan of bliss as the four deliciously hot sluts lapped at her jutting prick. Denise could only shiver at the delights about her, the sounds of pleasure from her Mistress and the encouraging coos from her three sisters as she joined them in ecstasy.

[managementstrategy64477]

ManagementStrategy

This will incorporate stock and asset stocks, cash reconciliation and accounts payable. Money reconciliation means the quantity of money owned by the company is right compared to income and expenses. Auditing accounts receivable signifies checking that payments are currently going to go to the company or individual. All these ought to be cross-referenced against all financial statements both inner (accounts section ) and outside (banks).Educate personnel on contemporary internal management procedures and methods. Internal controllers, such as other facets of company evolve. Your workers maintain them educated and of any QualityManagement . A lack of instruction and knowledge is an integral reason behind management failures. Evaluation workers' comprehension and maintain review sessions through personnel training.Monitor your inner management personnel. By people doing the management risk assessments are created. Running or Tracking testimonials permits to determine flaws team or the individual set up has missed. These may vary itself into these controlling its oversight. An auditing company typically performs inspections. Companies have connections with trusted there common complaints Are there some breaches of management? If quite a few clients report exactly the product failure, including a button that is faulty, it is possible to work backward through your company's processes to obtain the issue. This would normally mean estimating, in reverse order, shipping, assembly, fabrication, testing and design.Are that there regions of the company who are becoming worse or aren't improving as expected. Such problems might be due to other variables but may also indicate some type of controller failure. Reports will need to be tied to reflect the company; although each section is able track and to control exactly what it will. The atmosphere gage locate some leaks within a product can ascertain QualityManagement of a component or the outside or interior diameter, ascertain the imprint requirements, and check the thickness or depth of steel. Air gages come in various kinds like hand held air gages, assembly line atmosphere gages that mechanically check the component, seat type air gages where the contractor puts the component into the air flow, and a few atmosphere gages are automatic but will need to have the component placed to it until it assesses or inspects the part.Quality control inspectors utilize bore gages to assess the size of a component, any grooves within the component, amounts of any measures found within the part. A Gage that's moving parts to assess the interior of a component is used by inspectors. Electronic bore gags utilize electric current read and to check the dimensions of a component part. Air bore gags are much like atmosphere gags, but just examine the interior of a part.The excellent control inspector uses distinct size calipers to measure every component of the merchandise; it matters not whether the component is square, circular, oblong or some other form. The calipers are a device that quality control inspectors record the data on a review list to be sure the component is within tolerances and examine. 

Calipers are from the English dimension or in metric based on the tolerances first design.Quality inspectors utilize a colour detector apparatus to ascertain the suitable color mix of clothes, painted or cloth part. The color mix that is right is essential with each colour change, and also the sensor is used by the builder. This detector uses three colour versions: green, blue or red. These 3 colours can produce most colours, and the colour sensor assesses just how much of each colour is in the item to guarantee a consistent colour scheme.Quality is a significant element when it comes to almost any service or product. Quality management is vital to building a thriving company which provides products that meet or exceed clients' expectations. Additionally, it forms the cornerstone of an efficient company which functions in high levels of productivity and reduces waste. To be able to keep or improve the QualityManagement of the offerings, producers use two methods, quality management and quality guarantee. Both of these practices be certain the end product or the support matches the quality demands and criteria defined for the solution or the service.There are numerous methods followed by associations to reach and maintain required degree of quality. The criteria usually specify the procedures and process for organizational actions and help to keep the quality in every part of organizational functioning.When it comes to criteria for quality, you will find many. (International Standards Organization) is among those dominant bodies for differentiating quality criteria for various businesses. Many organizations attempt to stick to the quality demands. Along with this, there are lots of different criteria that are particular to several industries.Since criteria have become a sign for merchandise and service quality, the clients are now keen on purchasing their product or the support from a certified maker or a service supplier. Thus, complying with standards like ISO has become a requirement when it comes to bringing the customers.Every company that practices QC must have a Quality Manual. The excellent guide summarizes the goals in the business and the high quality attention. The excellent guide provides the top quality advice to functions and departments. Consequently, everyone in the business has to know about her or his duties mentioned in the caliber manual.Quality Assurance is a extensive practice utilized for strengthening the quality of merchandise or solutions. There are various differences between quality assurance and management. In QualityManagement assurance, there is a continuous effort made to improve the excellent practices. Therefore, constant improvements are anticipated in quality functions from the company.When it comes to our own attention, we know that quality management is a product-oriented procedure. Quality guarantee makes certain the process of producing the item does adhere to criteria when quality management makes sure the end product meets the quality requirements. Consequently, quality assurance could be identified as a proactive process, whilst quality management could be mentioned as a responsive process.As sooner HBR articles have highlighted, quality management is a vital role within a business which markets services. However, is quality management precisely the thing at an agency company as at a concern? And what exactly does management need to do to set it? In this article a leading executive of one company shares his company's knowledge with other small business leaders.Since this article is about individuals, I will start with a narrative about someone I know. The objective of this narrative is to offer a reference point for the discussion and analysis that follow, for in each case the applications to be described have to be assessed with regard to how well they fulfill the requirements of specific individuals who, such as the topic of my narrative, have contradictory motives and desires.Ten years past a worker whom I will call Tom Simpson went into his supervisor, one of our vice presidents, also declared that, though not disappointed with all the progress he was making, he'd shortly be departing Marriott to combine a competitor.Simpson was assistant director of a large restaurant at one of our key resort properties. He had made QualityManagement and had been in his twenties. 

His document was clean lukewarm tests that may cool the excitement of superiors, of these pesky as they leaf through records. Quality management of performance and employee attitude is merchandise quality management for a manufacturer's equal. Computer makers, as an instance, point to a roomful of hardware that's been quality controlled to spool and the core. The support company has nothing. It counts on impressions made because of services rendered on clients. Everything is dependent on"quality management" of employees. Since J. Willard Marriott, the founder of the company, has stated many times, at the service industry you can not make joyful guests with miserable employees.After great individuals are screened and trained, it's vital to maintain them. When he declared his resignation, Simpson has been interviewed many times by executives. He ensured he could anticipate a livelihood with responsibilities, informed he was presumed to possess outstanding talent and promise, and had been requested to reconsider. But he held to his conclusion and joined a brand new company that has been only going into the restaurant business.Six weeks after we composed Simpson requesting that he send us a constructive review of the company. He requested him to inform us about complaints which he had about usand to inform us exactly what he believed to be helpful about Marriott. Now that he is back, we believe he can be a person because of his expertise with a different company. We try to not feel nostalgic when they depart, and we constantly feel complimented if they return.One QualityManagement behind the death of our supervisors is that the unusual number of entrepreneurial dream among men and women in the meals and accommodation industry. It appears like, deep down, everybody in the business wishes to start his own restaurant. This speaks well of the degree of individual vision, but it is a troublesome thing for your company, and it is a issue not entirely shared by any other business I can think of.Another reason behind great folks leaving usand thereby damaging our quality management program--is dislike to the physiological needs of our company --the extended hours of physically demanding work, the weekend and holiday responsibility, etc. After all control professions can you consider in which the most heavy work load comes on family holidays such as Easter and Thanksgiving? Another reason for losing people is your attractiveness of a position with a competitor. This is a manifestation of the extreme competition for great employees within our sector; the issue is most severe for business leaders.Because of pressures such as those we pursue an elaborate"rescue" performance for our great direction individuals.

[jaroslavprachar]

CBD Oil, Dogs, Cancer: Why You Haven’t Heard More About It

I’ve been told some of the most common questions readers of this site and The Dog Cancer Survival Guide ask are about the intersection of three things: CBD oil, dogs, cancer.

Should I use CBD oil to help kill my dog’s cancer cells?

Would CBD oil help with appetite during chemotherapy?

What about for vomiting?

My dog is in pain…should I use CBD oil?

How about some of my own medical marijuana, can I use it with my dog?

Would CBD oil be good for life quality?

So let’s talk a little about hemp, marijuana, THC. CBD oil, dogs, cancer.

More importantly, let’s talk about why we’re NOT talking about them. Or more accurately, why you haven’t heard about these options from me or your own veterinarian.

Marijuana, CBD Oil, Dogs, Cancer

Marijuana products have been gaining a huge amount of attention in recent years.  And rightly so, since there has been an expansion in state-level legalization of marijuana and associated CBD products.

CBD is an abbreviation for cannabidiol, an active substance found in marijuana plants. It usually doesn’t have any THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), the major marijuana intoxicant. If it does, it is only trace amounts.

CBD oil is also extracted from hemp, a cousin of marijuana.

You probably know that marijuana is illegal at the federal level. But you may not know that hemp is also a problematic plant from the fed’s perspective. More on both of those later.

Now, on a state level, it’s a little different. As I write, thirty-three states have enacted expansive marijuana use laws. Ten of those states have even legalized recreational use, and ten more states may join them this year. With full legalization on the table, and expanding rapidly, the health benefits of marijuana are finally up for discussion.

And, of course, dog lovers want to know: can CBD oil (and other marijuana/hemp products) help dogs with cancer?

Dear reader, I’m not going to answer that very good question. Instead, I’m going to tell you why I won’t, and why your vet probably won’t either.

When it comes to marijuana and CBD, we’re in the Wild West.

Let’s look at why we are still in the Wild West when it comes to marijuana and CBD products in veterinary medicine.

Gagged and Bound by Federal Law

The first thing for you to realize is that there are some very sticky legal issues going on now for veterinarians.

If you’re the sort of person who gets mad about inefficient bureaucracy, take a few deep breaths now, because what I’m about to tell you often shocks readers.

What I Can Discuss with Clients

When I got my veterinary license over two decades ago, there were zero instructions for us about what to do, or even discuss, about things like CBD oil and medical marijuana.

Back then, those substances did not exist as medical options. They weren’t even imagined.

Today, its different (and not in a good way). Let me explain.

If I want to advise a client about whether to use plant-derived therapies for a pet’s health issue, I (almost always) can legally do so.

You and I could legally talk about milk thistle to protect the liver, and I would be free to advise you to get a milk thistle extract.

I am legally permitted to advise a dog lover on how to use dietary apoptogens from plants to benefit a loved dog.

Tea tree oil as an anti-staph remedy? Okay.

We could talk about medical mushrooms and their effects on cancer and the immune system, and I could suggest them.

Have a question about how Jerusalem artichoke supports Fluffy’s healthy gut bacteria? No problem. Ask away and I’ll give you the scoop…including how to use it when you give Fluffy her probiotic.

What I Cannot Discuss with Clients

There are other things, however, that I cannot discuss with you without risking my DEA license.

Fun Fact: I have a DEA License, not just a Veterinary License!

Yes, I have a license from the Drug Enforcement Agency. I must have one in order to prescribe and dispense medications in my veterinary hospital. Bet you didn’t know that your veterinarian may have been licensed by the DEA, as well as the state veterinary board!

So, in order to keep my license, I must follow all federal laws to the letter, because the DEA license is a federal license.

Marijuana is illegal at the federal level so I cannot discuss it with you. Not unless I want to lose the ability to prescribe drugs. Yes: by discussing marijuana products with you, I am risking losing the ability to treat animals in my practice with all OTHER drugs. That would basically put me out of business as a clinician.

Veterinarians are literally gag ordered when it comes to CBD and marijuana.

If that sounds insane to you, you are not alone. But it’s true. Veterinarians are literally gag ordered as to CBD or marijuana recommendations. I’m not a lawyer, but that sure seems like a First Amendment violation. Doesn’t it?

Not only are veterinarians disallowed from recommending medical marijuana or products derived from it, we can’t even recommend products from hemp!

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Yes, That Includes Hemp Products!

Yes, it’s true. Hemp is a cousin of marijuana, and even though we use it to make rope, and it contains virtually no intoxicating substances, it’s illegal to sell or sow it until just a couple of weeks ago! Even now that it’s been legalized, it’s really unclear whether CBD oil extracted from hemp will be legalized as well.

The gag is so severe I’m not sure I am permitted to discuss the use of a hemp rope as part of, say, farm animal care.

Schedule One Substances …

That is not the only crazy aspect of this legal quagmire. The DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration) lists marijuana and substances from the plant (THC and CBD) as Schedule 1 substances.

What are Schedule 1 substances? Those with “no currently accepted medical use and a high potential for abuse”. You know, like heroin or LSD, which are also Schedule 1.

Keep in mind that crystal meth and cocaine are Schedule 2 substances … a notch lower in the existing legal framework.

Crystal Meth, Cocaine = Schedule 2. Marijuana, Heroin = Schedule 1.

Go ahead, take a sip of water and a few deep breaths. I’ll wait.

Since I can’t legally prescribe your dog heroin, I can’t prescribe CBD oil either.

It’s illegal to prescribe your dog heroin … and, CBD oil.

But I can prescribe pills that are part of the opioid epidemic. By the way, poppies are the original source of those opioids. And what else is derived from poppies? Heroin.

Are you shaking your head yet?

… And Yet Cannabinoids Are Patented.

Here’s another headscratcher: the United States Government owns patents for drugs using marijuana’s active molecules, specifically patent 6,630,507 , entitled “Cannabinoids as antioxidants and neuroprotectants”.

The patent’s language plainly states some medical uses of marijuana-derived compounds:

“The cannabinoids are found to have particular application as neuroprotectants, for example in limiting neurological damage following ischemic insults, such as stroke and trauma, or in the treatment of neurodegenerative diseases, such as Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease and HIV dementia. Nonpsychoactive cannabinoids, such as cannabidoil, are particularly advantageous to use because they avoid toxicity that is encountered with psychoactive cannabinoids at high doses …”

But don’t go away mad, because there is more.

Marijuana Drugs Already Approved – and Yet Illegal?

Truth is, the FDA approved marijuana-compound based drugs for international and domestic use. For example, Epidiolex addresses certain seizures in humans. That’s clearly a medical use of a marijuana compound. In the USA!

What the heck?

Since DEA’s Schedule 1 classification specifies that substances from marijuana legally have “no accepted medical use,” and since the United States Federal Drug Administration approved Epidiolex in June 2018, for medical use … Schedule 1 classification seems a wee bit problematic.

The DEA and the FDA should probably put their heads together on this.

At least the FDA thinks so. Consider the following quote:

“This approval serves as a reminder that advancing sound development programs that properly evaluate active ingredients contained in marijuana can lead to important medical therapies. And, the FDA is committed to this kind of careful scientific research and drug development.” – FDA Commissioner Scott Gottlieb, MD

In other words, the head of the FDA thinks medical applications for marijuana exist. But the DEA still thinks it’s worse than crystal meth, and as bad as heroin (a cousin to opiods, which are legal).

Dazed and Confused

The legal situation overall strikes me as just awful, confusing, and logically upside down.

Marijuana and CBD oil are illegal at the federal level. Meanwhile, they are legal in some fashion in some states. Who wins that argument?

When it comes right down to it, the feds do. And that’s why I and most veterinarians I know just don’t discuss these topics. If you feel frustrated, I understand.

I share your frustration. And I hope you understand our position.

There are countless manufacturers and forums operating in the gray area between legal and illegal advice. But we veterinarians are really unlikely to join you in that gray area. It’s just too risky for us.

Until this gets sorted out at the federal level, we are risking losing our business altogether. That’s a lot of people out of work, and a lot of pets without care. Even in states where marijuana and/or CBD products are legal. Not all veterinarians have DEA licenses, but it’s tough to ask any vet to skirt the law. I hope you understand.

The Future

Looking forward, I’d like to give you more information on CBD oil and marijuana products. But, as you can imagine, I really don’t want to have my drug license jeopardized, which means I need to proceed very, very cautiously.

Believe me, as the situation changes, I will be writing about it.

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So, for now, for readers as well as any regulatory enforcement out there, for the official record:

**I am not advising people with pets to use marijuana or marijuana-related products for their pets**

Best,

Dr. D

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Further Reading and References:

Many articles re: marijuana and medical marijuana at the paper of record: https://www.nytimes.com/topic/subject/marijuana-and-medical-marijuana

Hemp is now legal. That’s huge for the CBD industry, Chavie Lieber, Vox.com https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2018/12/13/18139678/cbd-industry-hemp-legalization-farm-bill

Marijuana is illegal under federal law even in states that legalize it, German Lopez, Vox.com, Nov 14, 2018, https://www.vox.com/identities/2018/8/20/17938372/marijuana-legalization-federal-prohibition-drug-scheduling-system

Drug Scheduling, DEA, https://www.dea.gov/drug-scheduling

First Amendment explainer, Cornell Law School, https://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/first_amendment

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannabidiol

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetrahydrocannabinol

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hemp

State Medical Marijuana Laws, National Conference of State Legislatures, http://www.ncsl.org/research/health/state-medical-marijuana-laws.aspx

These States Are Most Likely to Pass Marijuana Legalization Bills in 2019, Marijuana Moment, January 28. 2019, Boston Globe https://www.bostonglobe.com/news/marijuana/2019/01/28/these-states-are-most-likely-pass-marijuana-legalization-bills/R6zJMBCjoCQ7HKSHV0mk3I/story.html

FDA approves first drug comprised of an active ingredient derived from marijuana to treat rare, severe forms of epilepsy, June 25, 2018, https://www.fda.gov/newsevents/newsroom/pressannouncements/ucm611046.htm

United States Patent 6,630,507, Hampson, et al., Cannibinoids as antioxidants and neuroprotectants, http://patft.uspto.gov/netacgi/nph-Parser?Sect1=PTO1&Sect2=HITOFF&d=PALL&p=1&u=%2Fnetahtml%2FPTO%2Fsrchnum.htm&r=1&f=G&l=50&s1=6630507.PN.&OS=PN/6630507&RS=PN/6630507

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[exosmutxoxo]

Dangerous Woman (Part 1) 🌙

A/N: Hello everyone! As promised, here is the full ‘Dangerous Woman’ smut for all of you! This is part 1 of the trilogy so look forward to more after this! Part 2 and 3 will not be related to this particular smut so every fic will be based on a different scenario! Hope y’all would enjoy this little baby of mine x

Pairing(s): Luhan x Reader

Warnings: Call-girl industry references, blowjobs, sex in general

Genre: Smutty smut ;)

Requested: No

Summary: In which drug lord! and successful CEO! Luhan goes to a particular call-girl to get his needs fulfilled.

Word Count: 6103

Soundtrack: Dangerous Woman // Ariana Grande

I wanna savour, save it for later

The taste, the flavour

As the CEO of Lu Corporations, the largest upscale drug company in Korea and China, Luhan is viewed as the typical, arrogant and loaded young businessman whom everyone assumes him to be. It’s not exactly untrue; the twenty-six-year-old drug lord basically sits on stacks and stacks of dollar bills in his Lamborghini all day long, admiring his flawless reflection in the rear-view mirror and aimlessly thinking of methods to earn even more money.

Disgustingly handsome and reeking of wealth and power, Luhan walks the world with unbreakable confidence, never seen in public without his perfectly tailored suit and his jet-black hair gelled back with a vengeance. Women clamour to be by his side, dying to look good on his arm. Yet, for some strange and unknown reason, the young drug lord chooses to remain single despite the endless stream of females queuing up to be with him.

Nevertheless, the world views him as one of the luckiest and most successful bachelors out there. Wealth, glory, power, devastatingly good looks, a smooth-running business, a diversity of women to date. What’s there for him to complain about?

Well, there is a teensy little problem for him.

With all the workload and the useless business meetings he has to attend, he barely has enough time for himself and although he might be one of the most successful young men in the country, he’s still…well, a man. And men have their needs that need to be fulfilled, don’t they?

So fulfil them he does. And he accomplishes that by simply picking up the phone and making a call.

“I am what you call a dangerous woman”, I boldly proclaim to Sehun, hopping onto his desk and perching on the edge, plucking a lollipop from the sweet bowl by his elbow and unwrapping it swiftly, popping it into my mouth as I grin down at him.

Sehun rolls his eyes good-naturedly at my declaration, leaning back in his swivel chair with his arms propped behind his head comfortably. “Last week you claimed you were the reincarnation of catwoman and strutted around in cat ears for days on end. What’s with the ‘dangerous woman’ now? Is it a new thing to keep the clients coming back for more?”

I whip the lollipop out of my mouth and point it at him triumphantly. “Bingo”.

He chuckles in response. “Why, though? The cat ears drove the men crazy from what I recalled, judging from the amount of phone calls I had to answer on your behalf”.

“You don’t get it”, I exclaim. “I’m not getting rid of the cat ears. From now onwards, I am a dangerous woman with cat ears. It’s the perfect way to enthral the men, since almost everybody has a kitten kink nowadays”.

“Whatever you say, (Y/N)”, Sehun quips back, pretending to act disinterested, prompting me to lean across his desk and shove him in the shoulder playfully, to which he pulls a funny face in response, causing me to break into giggles.

Sehun has been my best friend ever since I wandered into the call-girl industry a few years back; we’d met when he’d introduced himself as the ‘receptionist’, also known as the guy who takes my calls from my clients and delivers messages to me. On our off days, we would always head out for bubble tea together and talk about everything and anything under the sun. But our friendship has never progressed to a relationship, considering that I’m always too busy pleasing other men and the fact that Sehun is gay. So best friends we’ve been for the past few years and I wouldn’t swap him for any other man in the world.

Now, as I return my attention to my lollipop, the telephone on the desk rings out shrilly. With an air of huffy annoyance, Sehun springs from his swivel chair and picks up the phone, placing it against his left ear. “You’ve reached the line for (Y/N)’s services. May I take a message for her?” He greets in an unusually upbeat tone, the honeyed tone he normally reserves for when it’s time to converse with clients.

He listens intently, tapping a pencil against his lip as the person on the other end natters away. Then he covers the mouthpiece with his other hand, dropping the pencil on the tabletop and gesturing to me. “It’s Mr Lu”, my best friend whispers. “He’s asking for you”.

“He’s always asking for me”, I remark, running my tongue over the lollipop. My heartbeat starts to quicken in my chest, excitement coursing through my veins at the mention of my favourite client. Okay, I know a call-girl isn’t supposed to have a favourite client but who’s to know, eh?

“That’s true”, Sehun admits. “But he wants you to come to the phone”.

I reach over and pluck the receiver from his grasp, putting it to my ear as I splay myself across his desk, much to his exasperation. “(Y/N) speaking”, I say sweetly. “How may I help you today, Mr Lu?”

“Like how you always do, (Y/N)”, Luhan murmurs down the line, voice laced with lustful need. “Got any appointments tonight?”

“Give me a minute”. Covering the mouthpiece, I prod at Sehun’s shoulder. “Hey, secretary boy. Am I seeing any other clients tonight?”

He grumbles at the nickname but still proceeds to check for me, hitting some keys on his laptop and squinting at the screen. “Nope”, he states. “You’re free and available to be a dangerous woman with Luhan tonight”.

Giggling, I resume the call, deliberately making suggestive sucking noises with my lollipop and ensuring that they’re audible enough for Luhan on the other end. He catches it immediately and in my mind’s eye, I can already see his rock-hard erection straining against the material of his pants, begging to be released. “I’m all yours tonight”, I coo down the line, earning a gagging noise from Sehun who pretends to stick his fingers down his throat. In response, I give him the middle finger, sticking out my tongue.

“Excellent”, Luhan croons in my ear, the word itself screaming sex. “See you tonight at our usual hotel downtown. Wait for me at the entrance when you arrive. Oh, and also”, he drops his voice an octave lower, “remember to wear something pretty just for me”.

“And easily removable”, I add coyly, sucking off my lollipop with a flourish and tossing the stick into the nearby trashcan.

“That’s my girl. See you at seven thirty sharp”.

I’ve known Luhan ever since I was younger and more innocent and just freshly starting out in the call-girl industry. We’re only two years apart in age but by the time we met, our livelihood paths were already very different. He was my very first client, back when he’d already clambered his way up the business ladder and appointed himself as the CEO of his drug company. By the time he met me, he was already earning big bucks by the millions, most of which he’s been spending on me for my services. In short, I get paid by the thousands because I’m fucking fantastic in bed. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that I’m an expert in sucking dick.

Don’t get me wrong, though. As much as I love the money, a tiny bit of me has to admit that I love Luhan’s presence even more. Despite his cynical and calculative exterior, he’s a real sweetheart underneath it all. He’s made me laugh whenever he took notice of my down moods during our ‘meet-ups’, indulged in intellectual arguments with me about politics and even wiped away my tears whenever I complained bitterly about how I feel like a cheap whore at times.

But on the other hand, he’s nothing to me but another man to please in order to make a living for myself. And in his eyes, I’m guessing that I’m just another…source to fulfil his needs. In the end though, business is business so I’ll always be down for him (both literally and figuratively) and he’s always ready to slip a cold wad of cash under my pile of discarded clothes before dawn arrives.

So here we are now, seated opposite each other at a candlelit table in the hotel’s banquet which so happens to overlook the entire city. At seven forty-five in the evening, the sky has darkened to a mysterious ink-black and neon lights flicker through the streets, highlighting the blossoming nightlife.

But I don’t notice any of them. Instead, my gaze is fixated on Luhan’s face as he indulges himself in the menu, his lovely dark eyes scanning the lists of delectable dishes. The warm candlelight draws attention to his alluring features and a pang of longing reverberates through me. With his jet-black hair pushed back to reveal his forehead, his ravishing good looks and the confident way he carries himself in the tailored suit he has on, it’s enough to make me want to take him right on this table, in full view of the hotel staff and anybody who might walk past.

“Are you up for lobster tonight, (Y/N)?”

The question startles me out of my inappropriate thoughts and I blink guiltily at Luhan, who’s gazing at me with an eyebrow raised and a knowing expression playing on his features. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and he closes the menu, leaning forward. “Or are you up for me instead?” He whispers, shooting a wink at me across the table.

Under the cover of the table, I ease my foot out of my kitten heels (courtesy of Sehun, who insisted that they would complete my dangerous catwoman look) and stretch across to brush my foot against his leg lightly. The flirty action prompts a flicker of lust in his eyes, to which I rest my elbows on the tabletop and prop my chin on the palm of my hand, pursing my lips suggestively. “While lobster –and you- may sound really nice, I would like a banana split”, I state sweetly.

Luhan’s other eyebrow goes up as well, surprise crossing his face and replacing the earlier lust. “You want dessert now?”

“You know how they say that bananas cure depression?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s why people eat cock”.

He bursts into laughter at my dick joke and the sight of his face in the midst of his giggles forces me to stifle my own snickers; Luhan may be the coldest, most cynical and most successful CEO and drug lord of the country but that doesn’t make him less human. He’s still Luhan, a boy at heart and one with an ugly laugh at that.

Jaw unhinged, mouth wide open and eyes screwed up adorably, he’s definitely a sight when he laughs. And a sight I wouldn’t trade for any of my other male clients in the world. So I capture the moment of happiness in my heart, tucking it away safely so that I can pull it out and recall the fond memory whenever I’m feeling down.

And just like that, I’m leaning across the table and kissing him softly on the lips.

Eventually, we end up in the hotel room he’d booked and I find myself demanding for him to keep his eyes shut until I’m done with changing my clothes in the bathroom.

“But why?” Luhan whines, placing his palms over his eyes as he sprawls on the king-sized bed. “Are you going to surprise me?”

“Of course. Don’t open your eyes until I’m done and I tell you to do so!” With that, I disappear into the en suite bathroom with my belongings and lock the door behind me. Dumping my bag on the toilet seat, I unzip it and yank it open, peeping in to see what Sehun packed for me.

The basic essentials stare up at me and a smile tugs at my lips. I must admit that Sehun has more knowledge about makeup and what turns men on better than I do. And I’m supposed to be the call-girl and the epitome of sensuality.

Placing the makeup by the sink, I strip off the fancy strapless dress I have on and unclasp my bra, shoving them deep into my bag. Following that, my fingers close around the lacy lingerie my best friend so kindly packed and I send a silent thank you to him for his undeniably good taste.

Wriggling into it with surprising ease, I send another silent gratitude to him for picking the most accurate size for my built. I’m on the small and petite side, which always make it difficult to find clothes that are not from the kids’ section so Sehun’s clothes-hunting skills are a gift sent from the heavens.

My hand wanders back into the bag, scrabbling around aimlessly for anymore surprises my best friend chucked in and I find myself pulling out a black headband with matching black satin cat ears. A grin stretches across my lips as I slip it on, admiring myself in the mirror above the sink. My reflection stares back at me, a perfect picture of feminine sensuality and sexiness. I’m everything a man wants, an artistic combination of playful and erotic.

And it’s all thanks to Sehun for listening to my babbling about being a ‘dangerous woman with cat ears’ and his amazing taste in lingerie.

A glint in the deep recesses of the bag catches my eye and I reach in to pull the item out, gazing at it with admiration as it twinkles in the glaring light of the bathroom. The handcuffs wink up at me and attached to it is a yellow Post-It note, reading, ‘Cuff him up and savour his taste, his flavour. You’re a taker and you’re a giver. Tease the fuck out of him, dangerous woman x’ in Sehun’s familiar scrawl.

Feeling encouraged, I peel off the Post-It and stuff it back into the bag, pocketing the handcuffs and moving on to the makeup waiting for me patiently by the sink. Uncapping the stick of ruby red lipstick, I slick a coat of it over my lips and set it back down on the sink top, studying my reflection carefully. Usually red lipstick would cause us call-girls to look trashy but surprisingly, this particular shade puts emphasis on my facial features and brings out the shape of my lips, giving me a sultry look. Again, I cannot thank Sehun enough for his good taste.

Giving myself a little smile for confidence, I pivot on my kitten heels and totter out of the bathroom, reaching up self-consciously to adjust my cat ears. Luhan looks up upon hearing the click of the bathroom door, his head propped up against the mountain of the pillows on the bed with his suit jacket already chucked over the nearby chair. Upon catching sight of me, his eyes darken with lust, tongue darting out to lick his lips greedily.

“Like what you see?” I pipe up eagerly, doing a little twirl in my heels to show off every inch of the lacy lingerie and how amazing my ass looks in the dim lighting of the room. I must admit that this is the best I’ve looked in ages, and the cat ears make everything even better.

Luhan gets off the bed, casually strolling across the room towards me with his hands stuffed in his pockets. In the warm lighting of the room, he looks even more handsome than usual; with the sleeves of his button-down shirt pushed up to his elbows and the little tent straining against his pants, it’s enough to make me want to pounce on him and fuck his brains out. But I control my urges, gazing at him sultrily from beneath hooded eyelids as he takes slow steps towards me, reaching out to grab me by the waist and pulling me against him.

“It’s impossible to not like it”, he croons in response to my earlier question, one mischievous hand inching its way down to my ass and giving it a little squeeze. “How’d you know that the cat ears drive me crazy?”

“Cat ears drive every man crazy”, I explain, flattening my palms against his chest and craning my neck to gaze up at him. Even in heels, I’m still a whole head shorter than he is, much to my chagrin.

“I’m not like every other man out there”, he points out, unable to resist reaching out to touch my satin cat ears curiously. His hard-on presses against the interior of my thigh and the promiscuous sensation of it against my bare skin sends sinful jolts of heat down to my aching core, prompting me to weave my hand down to his crotch and palm him through his pants excitedly.

“That’s bullshit”, I simper as a moan reverberates from him, his hips snapping forward and seeking for pleasure in my hand. “Every man wants a woman to be his little kitten, to belong to him and to savour his –and only his- taste for the night. Tell me, Mr Lu. Do you want that?”

As I speak, I grind my hips against his sensually, ensuring that my clothed womanhood circles round his growing erection tauntingly as my hand strokes him through the material of his pants. The breath hitches in his throat, his head falling back in pure bliss. “I want you”. His words come out as a needy whine, much to my satisfaction.

Taking that as a cue, I gently shove him back onto the bed, the two of us tumbling clumsily on it in a tangle of limbs as I pepper his face with lipsticked kisses, pulling bubbles of laughter from him. He squirms beneath me, running his hands down my torso delicately as he rakes his gaze down me appreciatively.

“You’re fucking art”, he whispers, as I tilt my head at a better angle to give his earlobe a playful little nibble, the tip of my tongue darting out to trace the bare skin around his ear stud. Then I pause, digesting his remark and I feel my face flush with pride, the seed of doubt in me shrivelling up and disappearing. Everything –the lingerie, the lipstick, the cat ears, the kitten heels- has paid off, thanks to Luhan’s observant nature. In all the years I’ve been sleeping with all kinds of men, hardly any of them took notice of whatever I was wearing as they were too preoccupied with wanting to take them off.

But with Luhan, I know I can always trust him to appreciate my foreplay and my edgy outfits. Everything –every outfit, every sex toy, every position in bed- I’ve tried and experimented with or on him, he’d always took it in stride and humoured me, appreciating my efforts to pleasure him in the weirdest and most interesting ways possible. And I’ve always received what I gave to him.

So now, while Luhan is distracted as I press my lips to his jawline and sighs blissfully as a result, I swiftly reach for his hands and pin them against the headboard above his head. His eyelids flutter open at the abrupt action, blinking up at me drowsily as I whip the handcuffs out from my pocket, holding it up for him to see. The metal glints in the warm lighting, leering at him mockingly.

Before he can react, the click of the cuffs resonate through the room as I attach his hands to the bedframe, curling my lips into a smirk as a disappointed expression spreads across his features at being tied down.

“Don’t look so down”, I say softly, pecking his lips lightly. “Just because you’re unable to touch me doesn’t make it less pleasurable”. As if to prove my point, I snap my hips forward so that my clothed womanhood grinds against his erection, to which he arches his back slightly with a soft but audible moan.

“Where’s the fun if I can’t touch you?” He mumbles breathlessly, sticking out his lower lip petulantly like a child. A giggle escapes me at his sulky reaction and I toss a wink down at him.

“Just trust me”, I quip confidently. “You’re in safe hands”.

“Well then. Put those hands to good use, kitten”.

Without further ado, my fingers proceed to undo the buttons on his shirt in an agonizingly slow manner, much to Luhan’s frustration and chagrin. But he says nothing, just watching me with hooded eyelids as I eventually undo the last button, allowing the material of the shirt to flap open and reveal his well-toned chest.

It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve feasted my eyes on his visual orgasm of a chest; the sight of it still sends spasms of heat pooling in the pit of my stomach and causes my mouth to salivate. Who the fuck ever said physical aspects don’t matter? They fucking matter.

Lowering my head, I press my lips against the bare skin of his chest, kissing a fiery trail down his torso. He reacts beautifully, his ragged breathing a symphony to my ears. Unable to hide my smile, I release the breath I’ve been holding in as my mouth glides its way down to his crotch, anticipation building up in both of us.

With steady fingers, I undo his belt and slide it out of the loops, meeting his eye as he studies my every move carefully, not wanting to miss a thing. His pants come off next, getting yanked off roughly and chucked on the carpeted floor carelessly in a puddle. There Luhan lies, completely and utterly vulnerable in his boxers and his ripped-open shirt, erection straining against the material of his boxers while his hands strain against the restraints of the cuffs.

This is the same man who runs the most successful drug company in China and Korea, the same man who is one of the most sought-after bachelors in the world, the same man who is a multi-millionaire businessman. And that successful CEO, bachelor and businessman is squirming beneath me at this very moment, nearly naked and whimpering desperately for me to please him. If only the world could see him now.

I lower my mouth over the tent in his boxers, teasing him with the tip of my tongue as I kitten-lick him through the thin material. He curses in Mandarin, to which I understand perfectly. “Fucking hell, (Y/N)”, he hisses, “stop teasing”.

“You don’t tell a dangerous woman what to do, Mr Lu”, I coo, slowly inching my mouth over his clothed erection and causing his hips to buck upwards automatically, seeking for the comfort of my mouth.

Luhan emits a sound of annoyance and frustration, twisting his wrists in the hold of the handcuffs. “Please?” He tries, his voice dwindling into desperation.

I pause, my lips still hovering over his erection temptingly. “Please what?” I murmur. Meeting his eye once more, I curl my fingers around the tent in his boxers and give him an encouraging squeeze, to which he attempts to stifle a whimper.

“Please suck me off”, he rasps, rocking his hips against my mouth for some friction against the tent in his boxers. “I need to feel your pretty little mouth around me”.

“Since you asked so nicely”, I muse aloud, hooking my fingers round the edge of his boxers and pulling them down to his ankles, “why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

His stiff cock springs into view, almost smacking me fresh across the face and I waste no time in taking his leaking tip into my mouth, my lips wrapping around it prettily. The salty tang of his pre-release explodes on my tongue, heightening all of my senses and I move on to take his entire length in my mouth slowly.

Luhan’s back arches off the bed beautifully, breathing heavily as I run my tongue over his shaft, utilizing my mouth to its fullest ability and slathering the entire length of his cock generously. A hoarse moan leaves his lips, lifting his hips to provide me with a better angle and I send him a silent gratitude for that by hallowing out my cheeks, providing as much friction as possible between my mouth and his cock.

As the seconds tick by, we develop a steady rhythm; his hips move in time to the bob of my head, his tip hitting the back of my throat gently. When he feels that I’m accustomed to the size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, feverishly fucking my mouth senseless as my hand drifts over his balls, giving them the attention they crave.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), your mouth feels so good”, he growls, never pausing in his thrusts. The clanking of the handcuffs as he strains against them reverberates through the sex-filled air, and I allow my eyelids to flutter shut as my mouth works on his cock. Tears pool at the sides of my eyes but I brush them away, focusing on massaging his balls in perfect unison with the flicker of my tongue against his tip which all seem to drive him over the edge.

“Look at me, (Y/N)”, Luhan breathes, so I do. With my lips wrapped nicely around his thick cock, I gaze up at him through drowsy eyes, knowing at the back of my mind that I must be an erotic sight from his position. It’s like I’m almost drunk on his length, saliva pooling in my mouth and my cat ears lopsided. But he seems to love every second of it, judging from the glint in his lust-filled eyes and the way he runs the tip of his tongue over his lips, his hips snapping up to push his length as far back as I can manage.

A moan escapes me at the fulfilling sensation of his cock filling up every inch of my mouth, and Luhan instantly feels the vibration of it. Obviously relishing the feeling, he resumes the rhythm of thrusting provocatively into my mouth, to which I comply with by running my tongue over his shaft, the head and the tip. Combine that with my fingers working their magic on his balls and Luhan is plunged into an orgasmic daze, profanities leaving his lips with a vengeance.

The next thing I’m aware of is the explosion of salty release in my mouth and the ‘fuck’ Luhan utters out, my eyes never straying from his face as I watch satisfyingly at how his features contort with pleasure, head falling back against the pillows. I take it all in, swallowing every drop of his release happily and slowly withdrawing my mouth from his cock. Savouring the taste, the flavour.

He takes his time in coming down from his rollercoaster of an orgasm, panting hard and beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. While he gradually gets his breathing under control, I reach up and unlock the cuffs, releasing his wrists from their restraints. His arms flop by his sides limply, exhaling through pursed lips as he turns his head to the side to look at me.

In response, I bear an innocent grin, reaching up to adjust my cat ears again. “Was that okay?” I ask with faux bashfulness, batting my eyelashes up at him flirtatiously.

Luhan pushes himself up to a sitting position on his elbows, shooting me a sideways glance. “Are you kidding me? That was fucking amazing”, he gushes. “Now I’m jealous because every other man out there has probably gone through that mind-blowing experience of having your lips wrapped around their cocks”.

My confident exterior dents a little at that innocent remark and I swing my gaze away, hugging my knees to my chest. “Yeah, I guess”, I mumble tonelessly, trying my hardest not to think about the reality of my job. Sure, I’ve sucked plenty of dick in my life but it’s not –and will never be- the same as sucking Luhan’s. Not that I’ll ever tell him that to his face.

He notices the sudden shift in my attitude, raising one eyebrow worriedly. Without a word, he beckons me over and pats his bare lap reassuringly and I crawl over, straddling his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. He rests his hands on my hips fleetingly, quirking up a comforting smile. “Hey now”, he coos, “don’t think so much. It’s just the two of us tonight, am I right?”

Pulling my lower lip in between my teeth, I lift my chin petulantly and nod feverishly, hoping that he doesn’t see the glinting tears in my eyes. “Yeah”, I say softly. “Just me and you”.

“Then just focus on us”, he advises patiently, reaching out to stroke my cat ears. “Like you said earlier, every man wants a woman to be his little kitten, for her to belong to him and only him. So be my kitten for tonight. Devote all your attention to me”. To lighten the mood, he reaches over and tweaks my nose cheekily, throwing in that oh-so-familiar grin of his.

I giggle at that, tilting my head suggestively. “You know, my theme tonight is supposed to be a dangerous woman. But apparently that went down the drain because dangerous women don’t cry in front of their clients”.

“Dangerous women have feelings too”, Luhan points out kindly. “It doesn’t make you any less dangerous. In fact, I’m actually in danger of asking for another blowjob”. We share a laugh at the pun, and he reveals his ugly laugh once more, causing happiness to bubble up in me. When we dwindle back into silence, Luhan runs his hands down my sides appreciatively, admiring the artistically crafted lace of my lingerie.

“You’re so beautiful”, he mutters beneath his breath, startling the both of us as we stare at each other, a crackle of something fizzling in the air. But then it’s gone, disappearing into nothingness as I hastily cover up the awkwardness by wriggling further into his lap.

“I would like a ride, Mr Lu”, I pipe up flirtatiously.

A smirk blooms on his face, and just like that, the raw feeling of his hard-on presses against my inner thigh once more. Grabbing me by the hips, he places his mouth near the shell of my ear, blowing against it gently and sending a breakout of goosebumps all the way down my neck. “Your ride is all ready for you, kitten”, he whispers.

My womanhood moans at his words, aching and burning for him. The heat curls up in me, growing and growing until the familiar wetness starts to soak through the thin material of my cute panties (again, courtesy of Sehun).

Sensing how my body has practically turned to putty in his hands, Luhan grabs the opportunity to assist me in wriggling out of my lingerie until I’m bare and vulnerably naked in front of him for the first time tonight. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I position myself in a way that my eager womanhood is directly above his equally eager cock and slowly but surely, I ease myself down on his length, gripping onto his shoulders tightly for support.

Luhan tenses beneath me as well, his fingernails digging into my bare hips and leaving little grooves in the sensitive skin as his length easily slides into me. My soaking folds accept him, and soon I’m rocking my hips back and forth feverishly, trying to get the right angle for his tip to brush against my sweet spot.

Between pants and grunts, Luhan thrusts his hips up to assist me, brows furrowed in sexual concentration as he works on giving me the pleasure my womanhood is dying for. The wanton sounds of skin slapping against skin just deepens our animalistic want and need for each other and soon, we’ve developed another rhythm, fucking each other to a beat only we can hear in our hearts.

I find myself bouncing on his cock, cat ears still intact on top of my head as we fuck each other to kingdom come. A cacophony of lewd noises leave our lips in such perfect harmony that it puts backup singers to shame, and I can’t help but keep my gaze fixated on the promiscuous sight of his glistening cock sliding in and out of my slick womanhood.

“Do you like this?” I rasp, relishing the way the ball of heat twists in my stomach, getting ready to release itself at any given moment. “Do you like the way I’m riding you, Mr Lu?”

Luhan groans in response, too far gone to even give me a coherent reply. Instead, all that leaves his lips is a flurry of whimpers and the occasional curse word as our hips slap against each other’s. Smirking at how helpless he is, I lean forward and brush my lips against his. “Something ‘bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman”, I whisper seductively, watching with satisfaction as his features contort with pleasure at my words.

“You’re one fuck-able dangerous woman, that’s for sure”, he pants, tightening his grip on my hips as my folds start to clench around his length, a sure sign that I’m close. The ball of heat in me tightens into a knot, especially as his tip rams straight into my sweet spot, almost making me scream deliriously.

“I’m close”, I choke out, the pace of my hips slackening as I inch towards my orgasm. Luhan clings onto me, pushing his length in and out of me to substitute for my slackening pace and hitting that right spot every single time, throwing me into a blur of white as my womanhood tightens around him one last time.

Then the knot of heat in me unravels itself, propelling me to explode all over him, white strings of release spurting all over the sheets and his lap as I clutch his shoulders for support through my high. For the moment, I’m floating amongst the orgasmic clouds as Luhan fucks me through it. Then he follows suit, the both of us cursing out each other’s name as his warm release flows through me, filling me up in a way that has me wanting more.

It’s all over before I realize it, both of us crash-landing back in reality as the world spins back into focus. Panting and gasping, I roll over and bury myself in the safety of Luhan’s arms, tears trickling down my cheeks. He holds me close, burying his nose in my hair and knocking the cat ears right off my head. We lie in each other’s arms for a long time, not saying a word.

As usual, the moment Luhan dozes off and drifts into dreamland, I slither my way out of his arms and quietly gather up my clothes, slipping back into my dress I wore for dinner earlier this evening as I gather up my belongings and toss them back into the bag.

A glint at the corner of my eye catches my attention and I turn my head a fraction to see the bundle of hundred-dollar bills lying neatly on the nearby table. Reaching for it and slipping it safely into my pocket, I swing my bag over my shoulder and hesitate by the foot of the bed for a split second, observing as Luhan dozes on peacefully and obliviously without a care in the world. Without a second thought, I pad over to him and drop a soft kiss on his cheek. “See you next time, Mr Lu”, I whisper.

Then I turn and leave the hotel room without a backwards glance, the wad of cash in my pocket burning against my thigh as I make my way home.

Luhan never tells anybody about his dirty little secret. He doesn’t breathe a word about his late-night shenanigans with pretty call-girls, too egotistical to do so. But all the same, even after a night of fuck-fun with his source of release, he still returns to Lu Corporations without an inch of him out of place. Nobody ever has the slightest clue of what he gets up to in the ungodly hours of the night. And that’s the way he likes it.

So he returns to work and the cold reality of the business world, dealing with stupid clients and useless meetings even as the lingering thought of a particular call-girl plays in his mind, leaving him with the aftertaste of mind-blowing sex and a few precious moments of laughter with her. And as always, he waits until he feels like he can’t control himself anymore and simply picks up the phone to drop her a call once again.

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