The Boss' Baby Part 15 - Pressing Matters

“Wahhhh!! Ahhh!! Ahhhh!!” The baby cried. Amy rushed down the hall and into the baby’s room.

The nursery was painted pink and decorated like any baby girl’s room. The baby was on the floor, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down its face while it sobbed.

“What’s the matter baby?” Amy asked the baby. Me. She asked me. I’m the baby.

“M-my bum bum hurts!!” I whined. Over the past few months, as my regression progressed, Amy has emphasized that I always speak in babytalk.

She laid a consoling hand on my shoulder, “Awww!! Poor baby!!” She cooed, “is it because of what Daddy did to you last night?”

I nodded, sniffling. On the weeks that Amy was on her period, it became my duty to please Charles. Which meant instead of him making sweet, passionate love to my wife, he would bend me over and take me roughly up the ass. Back when he was exclusively fucking me it wasn’t as much of an issue, as I (and my rectum) were used to it. But with me mostly being a bystander in their sex life, when it was finally my turn to be used, my body was ill prepared.

“Are you trying to make a pushy?” Amy asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide the humor she found in all of this.

I nodded again. I had been trying to go poop for the last couple hours, but the pain and discomfort were making it grueling and difficult.

Amy smiled and pinched my tear-stained cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetie! Mommy will take care of you! I’ll be right back okay?”

She stood up from her kneeling position and turned so I could watch her perfect, perky, round butt bounce out of the room.

She came back a little while later holding a baby bottle and a small box.

“I mixed some prune juice and laxatives into your formula. That should help keep things moving,” she said, placing the bottle and box down.

I already knew what the box contained. It was a small, antique jewelry box that old people used to store their rings, necklaces, and other trinkets. But Amy used it to store something else.

She opened it to reveal two used condoms. The ones from the night before. Charles and Amy always used condoms, which I was actually quite relieved with, over the alternative. But even when Charles was with me, Amy felt it was appropriate to continue to use them so no load of Charles’ ‘amazing’ spunk was wasted.

It was basically a ritual at this point. I whimpered as I took the condoms from the box while Amy unscrewed the lid to the bottle. I poured the splooge into the formula and squeezed it until Amy was satisfied I’d emptied it completely. I did the same for the other condom. Amy smiled as she took the bottle of liquid and shook it up. Patting her lap so I could lay across it for the feeding.

The formula tasted weird when she pressed it to my lips and drank from the rubber nipple. Not because of the cum mixed in, mind you, that was a taste I'd unfortunately gotten used to. But the addition of the prunes gave it a yucky flavor to accompany its now brownish-purple tint. I absolutely despise prunes.

“Do you know what today is?” Amy asked, stroking my hair while I suckled on the bottle. My hair had gotten longer, so Amy thought it appropriate to put them in ‘cute wittle piggy tails’ as she called it.

I shook my head, making more of the liquid squeeze into my mouth from the nipple between my lips.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!” She swooned, rocking me back and forth.

Why was she telling me this? Were we going to be spending it together? Doing something romantic?

“So you and I are gonna go out,” she said, and my heart fluttered, “…to get something for me to wear for Charles tonight!”

And my heart plummeted.

Apparently my face displayed my disappointment. “Awww! Don’t worry baby! If you behave, maybe we’ll get you something too!” She tickled me playfully as if that would help cheer me up.

“Go down and get your spankies from Daddy, then we can go out to the mall!” She said after I finished my bottle, pushing me off of her.

I felt full and bloated as I crawled down the stairs. Because it was Sunday, Charles was on the couch watching sports. I remember when that used to be my Sunday routine, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

I silently crawled in and knelt next to the coffee table. He seemed disgruntled, his team must have been losing. I timidly waited for a commercial to commence the begging for our daily ritual.

“Daddy…” I whined when I heard the playings of one of Geico’s 4 million annoying ads, “can I have my spankies pweez?”

Charles huffed and clicked the remote to the TV, my TV. He tapped his lap. “Hurry up, let’s go!” He barked impatiently.

Great…he’s mad. I thought. It’s always worse when he’s mad. I whimpered as I pathetically clambered up and over his legs. I hiked up my skirt, not that I needed to, it was so short it didn’t cover all of my diaper. My cheeks were still sore from my spanking yesterday, so I was a little relieved that my diaper wouldn’t be coming off for this one.

His first hit was on my right thigh, then my left. I put my thumb in my mouth. I learned to do this to help muffle my cries, but also to help soothe me. I realize it’s pathetic and doesn’t exactly help my babyish image, but who in this house hasn’t already seen me at my lowest?

“God damn it!” Charles roared, I cringed as I heard the opposing team score again. “Where is the defense?!”

Oh no.

The blows came harder and faster. Even with my thumb in my mouth I couldn’t help but whine and cry. I did my best not to kick my legs as I’d been trained, but the pain was unrelenting.

My only reprieve was that when Charles used his hand, my spankings tended not to last as long, as there would be a sting on his palm too. I bit my thumb until the onslaught finally ceased, and he pushed me off of him onto the floor in a heap. He was still huffing and puffing from his frustration and exertion.

I lay on the floor for a bit, reeling from the pain. I could have crawled away, but I knew it might be a better day for me if he was in a good mood. So I decided to cheer him up.

“What are you doing?” he asked as I knelt between his legs. I reached my painted nails for his zipper, and he smiled for the first time, and understanding flashed across his face. “Oh I see..”

He sat back so I could do my job. Allowing me to take his large, flaccid cock out of his pants, lick his balls and travel up his shaft. I felt him relax as I took him in my mouth, feeling the tension drain from him while I attempted to drain his balls. Over the past few weeks I’d learned my place and what I was good for, and this was it. It actually made me feel good to know that I was making him feel good, that I wasn’t just a pathetic sissy baby, that I had value, even if that value mostly came from my holes. I was even happy for him to use my little pigtails to yank me up and down on his cock while he watched his sports.

I was sucking and slurping and gluck gluck glucking when I heard Amy come down the stairs and laugh. “Save some for tonight, babe! I’m off my period, so you’re all mine tonight!” she called.

I whimpered a bit at that, a little jealous. Though, in which way, I’m not sure.

“Where are you going?” Charles asked Amy while I continued to bob up and down on his cock.

“Tommy and I are going to the mall!” she said conversationally, as if what I was doing at the moment was perfectly normal.

“Oh really?” Charles grinned, “For what?”

“You’ll see!” Amy smiled. “But the two of you need to hurry up!”

“Almost done…” Charles said, and I agreed. I could feel him swelling in my mouth. I was hungry for his seed, for my reward. For being a good sissy and getting compensated for all my hard work.

His breathing quickened, his balls twitched. Here it comes!

I prepared my throat for the imminent explosion, raising up a bit so his head was at the edge of my tongue instead of down my esophagus, I learned it was easier to swallow this way.

But Charles kept going, kept pulling my head up until his dick wasn’t in my mouth anymore. I whimpered, what was happening?

He stroked his cock. He never did that. Never had to.

Then it hit me.

And that’s when I was hit in the face with his first shot of cum, directly above my left eyebrow. Not on my face! I thought. My mouth! I want it in my mouth!

I opened it up wide for him. But it was like he was purposefully missing. Another shot hit my right cheek, then my nose, then my eyelids. Rope after rope of warm, sticky goo covered my face, until Charles had succeeded in glazing me like a donut.

“There! Now the bitch looks ready for the mall!” Charles chuckled, and Amy joined him.

I wanted to scoop and push it into my mouth like all of the good whores do in porn, but I deduced that that would be disastrous for me. I knew their intentions.

“Well now that you two have had your fun I guess we’ll be on our way!” Amy said. She gave Charles a long, passionate kiss goodbye. Even through the blurry window of cum coating my eyelashes, I could see the love there. And no matter how much I tried to keep myself relevant I knew I was being phased out.

Amy scooped up the diaper bag. “Come along, sissy!” she called.

I whimpered as I crawled after her.

*******

By the time we rolled into the mall parking lot, the cum had mostly dried on my face. Leaving a white, sticky film like when you dry Elmer’s glue on your hands. My eyelashes were still sticky, and would snag into each other every time I blinked. I so badly wanted to wipe it away, but Amy kept a cruel eye on me through her rearview the entire ride.

When she put the car in park, I had to wait for her to come around and unbuckle me out of the oversized car seat. I could have done it myself, obviously, but she insisted in order to further my regression.

“Now you be a good girl and maybe Mommy will get you a toy!” She told me before placing my penis paci in my mouth.

The sunlight hurt my eyes as we made our way through the parking lot. My sore bum hurt with each awkward step. Already there were people noticing, gasping, laughing. My Mary Jane shoes clanking on the concrete doing nothing to drown them out.

Amy took me by the arm and led me through the doors as if nothing were amiss. Though she couldn’t hide a smirk as a group of girls laughed and started snapping pics.

We strolled along, some people giving us a wide berth. Most gave us snide looks while others thought seeing a grown man dressed like a baby girl was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

We were rounding the corner to the other wing where most of the feminine stores like Sephora, Forever 21, and Claire’s were when I came to a stop.

Amy looked back at me, confused at first, then an understanding smile flashed across her face. Usually in a public setting I would keep moving and zoom through as fast as possible.  There was only one reason I would come to a complete standstill: I had to go potty.

“What is it, sweetie?” Amy asked, feigning ignorance.

My legs quaked in order to match the gurgling in my guts. The formula from earlier was taking effect. I bit my paci to keep from whimpering, but I whimpered anyway.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” Amy encouraged.

“I...I have to…” my lips were quivering, the strain coming from my intestines was unbearable. I started to sweat, to quiver. I wanted to double over from the cramps. The entire crowd of mallers must have heard the grumbling coming from inside me. I was about to tell her I had to shit myself, but I knew I had to use her stupid baby talk: “I have to go poopyyy”

I said that part too loud. Everyone seemed to turn as I started flooding my diaper. Like a valve was released and all of my insides gurgled out. It was gross and disgusting, and a small part of me worried that I might leak down my leg and into my knee-high stockings. Amy immediately turned up her nose at the smell.

“Oh goodness!” she shouted, making a show for the onlookers. “Smells like someone’s got a stinky diapy!”

Phones were out, pictures snapping, videos recording, I’d probably be the next TikTok sensation...or degradation...by tomorrow.

Amy leaned in close so no one could hear her but me, “I’d bet you’d like to go to the bathroom so we can change you like we did at your work, huh?” she whispered, to which I nodded, defeated, “No way.” she said, taking me off guard, “I’ve seen what you’ve done in there, how much you love a good bathroom floor, and you won’t be getting that satisfaction.” She was referring to the videos Charles showed her of me when I was on the floor humping my diaper for Stephanie. “You’re gonna wear that putrid stench around for the rest of the day!” she smiled sweetly, as if she just told me we were off to buy candy. But we weren’t.

She grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd of people, the sticky muck sloshing back and forth in my diaper with each step. We turned a corner and walked into none other than Victoria’s Secret. The overwhelming amount of the color pink instantly reminded me of my own nursery at home. There was still a small crowd of stragglers following us, but most were either too put off by the smell of my diaper, or the depravity of it all, and moved on.

“Hello!” said a sweet young lady probably in her mid-twenties. She beelined over to us as soon as we entered, as if we were exactly the type of customers she handled, or she just wanted a story to tell her friends later. “How can I help you today?”

Amy nudged me forward, giving me a suggestive look to indicate I should do the talking.

I whimpered a bit as I stepped forward awkwardly. Dropping the penis paci from my mouth and letting it dangle. The girl’s eyes went wide at the sight of it. As if my strange outfit couldn’t get any more ridiculous.

I cleared my throat and spoke in a mixture of my ‘manly’ and sissy baby voice. I was hoping it would help me save a little face, but the dynamic floating between the two only made it sound more pathetic: “My...umm..m-my wife --err...Mommy, n-needs something t-to w-wear for my umm...Daddy.”

The girl must have used everything in her power to keep from bursting out laughing in my face. She bit her lip, bringing her grin down to a smaller, cheerful smile and said: “And is your…’Mommy’...really your wife?” she asked, pressing the issue.

I nodded sheepishly, not taking my eyes off the floor.

“And is…’Daddy’...another man?” she prodded.

I nodded again, trying not to cry in shame in front of her.

“A big stwong man?!” She was using the baby voice too, joining in on the ‘fun’.

I nodded, scrunching up my eyes.

“And do ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mommy’....’wrestle’ sometimes?”

All the time. I thought, but didn’t want to correct her.

She leaned in closer. “Does ‘Daddy’ have a big pee pee?”

Nods.

“Is it bigger than yours?”

Nods.

“Is it MUCH bigger than yours?”

I’m pretty sure a tear ran down my face as I nodded my stupid head.

“Cause yours is teeny tiny isn’t it?”

I sniffled, nodding again.

“I get ‘guys’ like you in here all the time” she said, “ones that buy panties for ‘their wife’ but can’t conceal the little boner in their pants as they scurry off. Some don’t even pay, they just try to steal them. But every now and then we get guys like you who are way past that. Ones whose wife has become so fed up they find a new man. Is that what you are? What do they call it…a cuckold?”

I whimpered at the fact that everyone could notice.

“Tell me what you are, and tell me what you have. I want to hear you say it.”

Ironically, it hadn’t fully sank in until she made me say the words. “I’m a…cucky. A wittle baby cuckold that has a teeny tiny pee pee. It’s itty bitty wike a...cwitty..”

“Is that why you’re in diapers?” she asked. I wondered how long it would take for her to mention them.

I shrugged. Sure... I thought. There were a multitude of reasons, but I guess you could put that under the umbrella of contributing factors.

“Okay,” she said, apparently having had enough of her fun, “Let’s go find something for your…’Mommy’ to look pretty in so Daddy can wrestle her!”

Amy and I followed the girls around as she showed off the mannequins and what was on special and what would be good for her size and build. After narrowing it down to three options, I was forced to choose.

“Which one do you think your wife--i’m sorry--Mommy would look best in?” the girl asked, holding up the three lingerie items.

I looked up from the floor at all three of the outfits, but I immediately knew which one would be best. Which one I would want to fuck her in. Which one made my cock wriggle inside its cage at the thought.

“The red one…” I groaned. It was a lacy bra and garter set. The straps had lacy heart cut-outs to them and there were so many straps and see-through sections it would leave just enough to the imagination, and imagination was all I’d probably be able to use while she was wearing it.

“Shall I ring you up?” the girl asked.

“Put it on his card.” Amy said, speaking up for the first time.

****************

When we got back home Amy finally changed my dirty diaper. Only because I was going to be cooking, and she didn’t want my “stench” to contaminate the food.

I prepared a delicious meal of filet mignon with a sweet red wine reduction, honey glazed carrots, and brussel sprouts with olive oil and seasonings. It was absolutely exquisite.

Or it would have been, if I had gotten to eat it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Charles said as his wine glass clanked against Amy’s. I watched them smile at each other and touch each other affectionately from the vantage of my high chair. I used my plastic baby spoon to swirl around the unappetizing mushy peas in my baby bowl.

“This is excellent,” Amy said around a mouthful of the steak I’d prepared, “Well done Tommy!” She praised me patronizingly.

“Yes very good,” Charles agreed, “I guess we’ll have to hire new help soon.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Amy seemed to, as she nodded understandingly.

I listened to them converse about the coming weeks for work and how they needed to get a new latch for the fence outside. My fence. I thought. I never liked doing handiwork around the house, but I liked Charles doing it even less.

They finished the entirety of their plates while my mushy mess in my bowl was left mostly untouched.

“Well I’m gonna go get ready,” Amy said, winking at Charles. “Why don’t you go relax while Tommy does the dishes. You’ve had a hard day.”

I scoffed, maybe a little too loudly as they both gave me stern looks. But thankfully they ignored it and moved on. Amy gave Charles a kiss before coming to the high chair to unlock me.

*******

“You look absolutely radiant,” Charles said to Amy as she came into the bedroom.

I didn’t know if I could agree. I couldn’t exactly see her while I was stuck in the corner of the room staring at the wall. It was my “special corner” as they called it. The area where I spent most of my time while they were fucking. If I was allowed into the room at all, that is. It was either here, or the nursery. The carpet in this area had been worn from me kneeling on it so much over the past few weeks. Having to sit here like a toddler while I listened to them have their fun. I tried to block out the sounds, but I was never successful.

Right now I could hear Amy strut across the room. Even from her gait I could tell she felt confident and beautiful. She always was, but she didn’t often feel that way. Years of me underperforming and failing to get hard in the bedroom probably gave her that complex. But Charles seemed to instill the self-confidence she was always missing.

I heard their lips smacking and their soft groans as they kissed. I listened to the springs of the bed creak a bit as they shifted. But it wasn’t rhythmic like they were fucking, not yet…

More sloppy kisses. Or wait...that wasn’t kisses…

“You are the Queen at this…” Charles said over the sounds of my wife sucking and slurping.

I could practically hear her pop the cock from her mouth. “Anything for my King” she said, before the sucking and slurping resumed.

I guess that makes me the Jester…

“God you have such a beautiful dick!!” Amy groaned hungirly, “How did you get such an amazing dick?”

I shrank into myself, knowing she had never, EVER been that excited about my pathetic little excuse for a penis. Even when she was faking. But a small part of me was happy for her. Happy that she finally found the cock she’d secretly wanted for so long. A cock that could get hard on command, that could fill her and all her desires, and give her the confidence and fulfillment she desperately needed.

“Watta ya think? Should we let him join?” Charles asked.

They must have been referring to me, I didn’t even hear Amy give an answer. But I did hear two snaps of Charles’ fingers, which was my cue.

I turned around and crawled over a little too excitedly. “Yes sir??” I asked, bowing deeply on my hands and knees like a puppy asking for the opportunity to play.

“Your wife wants some assistance.” He said.

She was busy bobbing up and down on his cock. Worshipping him. Groaning as she did. She didn’t look like she needed any help at all.  But I obliged at the opportunity to contribute, deciding to take his balls in my mouth and give them a thorough licking.

Charles sat back as we worked on him. Amy gluck glucking  on his shaft and allowing me to lick her slobber off of his sack. She finally came up for air and I hungrily took his cock in my mouth, trying to show what I could do. It was pathetic, but I wanted the satisfaction of worth.

I felt Amy grab the back of my head and pull me off, then arrange me so that we were looking into each other's eyes, Charles’ cock between us. We both put our lips on either side of the shaft and worked our heads back and forth. Our lips were almost touching, it would have been our first kiss in God knows how long, who cares if there was a big black cock standing between us? There was a metaphor there somewhere…

Our eyes met across from each other. I could see the lust and the desire to please in her eyes. Mine must have shown the same as we slid back and forth in unison along his veiny, throbbing member. Both of us wanted nothing but for our ‘king’ to be pleased.

Charles was really enjoying it, watching us slide our heads on either side of his dick. He stood up, grabbing my head, pulling it around so it was behind him. I whimpered a bit, not wanting to leave his gorgeous cock. He planted my face between his bare ass cheeks, and I knew what he expected me to do. I reluctantly started licking his hairy asshole. Burying my face in it while I listened to Amy suck and slurp on her own from the other side. It really is nice to be included. I thought.

But it was all short-lived. Before I knew it Charles was grunting, leaning over and lifting Amy off the floor with ease and placing her on the bed. He actually knocked me back with his ass as he leaned forward.

“Back to your corner,” He ordered, and I scrambled to obey. “But I will allow you to watch.” He said, as if he were a benevolent God.

I didn’t complain though. The visuals were usually better than my imagination.

Amy looked every bit as amazing as I expected. She was squirming on the bed in the lacy red lingerie. I could practically feel how turned on she was. How eager she was for him. For another man.

Charles smiled as he climbed between her legs. They kissed again as he rested his slimy member against her pelvis. She ground into him, groaning, practically begging with her hips for him to fill her.

Charles was growling too. Like a lion ready to take its prey. He used two hands to shred the lacy panties of the lingerie like it was toilet paper. The expensive lingerie that I paid for. He grabbed his throbbing cock and aimed it right into my wife’s glistening pussy.

You would think by now she’d be used to it. Accustomed to his girth and length. But I swear it’s like she has amnesia every time. The look on her face as he fills her with his magnificent member always seems to be mesmerized. I always fear he’ll break her in half, but she takes every inch of it with supreme gratitude.

He makes sure she’s ready before he begins driving his hips back and forth. Slow, long, powerful strokes. Their breaths and legs intertwining. I couldn’t help but notice how perfect they looked, like they were made to fit together.

They kissed deeply as he began to drive his dick even deeper into her. She moaned with each thrust as he built up speed. Pounding her so hard I was scared he would hurt her. But she definitely didn’t sound hurt. She sounded like she was having the best sex of her entire life. Something I never could (or would) give her.

She turned over for him. Offering him her ass. Wriggling it back and forth in the air as if to say “this is yours. Use it how you please.”

But Charles simply stuck his dick back in her pussy and pounded her with animalistic vigor. He would never stick it in her ass. That would be beneath her. Anal and oral were meant for servitude. And he didn’t see her that way, she was his equal. His Queen.

“Oh my godddddd!!!” Amy moaned. She was getting close, I could tell. Her face flushed, her breathing quickened, and her legs were quaking. She bucked back against his dick, driving her hips against him, begging for every inch as her back arched and she tilted her head back in ecstasy. She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from screaming as her body shuddered. She made the quiet “O” face for a while, like it was all building up and about to burst, but she couldn’t contain it. God what a beautiful face she had when she was cumming, it struck me that the only time I got to see it was when Charles took over the love-making duties. Her body rocked into a rigorous orgasm that the entire block must have heard.  Charles didn’t even break rhythm, just kept pounding as Amy recovered. It didn’t take long for her to be ready and willing again.

This was usually the part where they stopped. Not altogether, mind you, but just for enough time for Charles to get the condom on.

But they didn’t.

“I want you to cum inside me,” Amy breathed. She had this incessant need in her voice. Like she was pleading with him. Begging him to breed her.

Charles smiled down at her. There was a look there, like anything that would come forward they could conquer together. Then he looked over at me, and gave me a smirk that established dominion. That he was the alpha, that he would provide my wife with what I never could: orgasms and offspring.

He turned back to her with determination and started driving his hips like never before. Amy welcomed every bit of it. Offering herself up to him willingly as he ploughed her in order to plant his seed.

All I could do was watch it unfold and plead helplessly. “Honey please…don’t do this!” But they just scoffed as if my opinion was worthless on the matter. Charles gave two mighty thrusts and grunts. I could see his balls pulsing, I could see him emptying into her. Pumping her full of his alpha black cum. Amy reared back into another orgasm simultaneously. As if Charles’ deposit was giving her everything she needed and wanted.

They both collapsed on the bed, cuddling lovingly in each other's arms while they caught their collective breaths. Finally Amy seemed to remember me for the first time.

“Come here.” She said, crooking a finger. I hastily crawled forward to obey.

Amy smirked down at me, opening her legs, exposing the gooey creampie leaking from her pussy.

“If you don’t want me to get pregnant, you better get everything out, and quick!”

I didn’t hesitate. I immediately buried my face in her pelvis. Licking, sucking, and slurping out all that I could. Charles must have came a gallon because it just kept coming. They both giggled at my helpless attempts and whimpers.

Then the doorbell rang.

Charles and Amy both looked at each other knowingly.

“Already, huh?” Amy smiled, and Charles reciprocated.

Amy pushed me out from her legs as they both stood up and put on their robes.

“Come along, Tom,” Charles said, “let’s see who’s at the door.”

Amy and Charles allowed me to lead as they followed down the stairs with their arms wrapped around each other. Like two parents waiting for their toddler to go and see what’s under the tree for Christmas morning.

I gulped as I reached the door. Trying to get rid of the lump in my throat.

I opened it to see an old white man in a business suit flanked by two black men of profound stature.

“Hello Charles,” said the white man, looking past me as if a grown man in diapers and a tutu with cum dribbling down their chin were an everyday occurance.

“Hello George,” said Charles. “Here already?”

“Yes i’m sorry to disturb you on Valentine’s Day, but we figured we’d come get him now before the work-week starts.” George was the big man from Corporate, and that’s when it struck me.

“No wait…” I said.

“You’re going to come with us, Tom,” George said firmly. “There are a lot of people up top that are dying—and paying—to meet you.”

George didn’t even wait for my answer. Didn’t care about my protests. Didn’t even let me say goodbye to my wife. The two black men stepped into the house, my house, each grabbed me by the arm, and drug me out kicking and screaming.

“Wait!” I screamed as they tossed me into the back of a luxurious white van, “when will I be coming back?”

“Not for a very long time.” George said simply. Then he slammed the door shut.

The End 

(Epilogue to follow)