WIP Wednesday Pedge's Bookshop

The One That's Personal

Triggers:

This is a WAY overshare, but if Pedge and I keep encountering all these naked bodies on Tumblr, this seems mild in comparison. Therapist Pedge has RPF vibes, but he's really just an avatar that helps me process scary or unfamiliar feelings...AND we have Pedro Pascal for everything else...A little personal chat about the asexuality spectrum, profanity, SH, pleasuring yourself, post-hysterectomy health problems, and all other things Papi Pascal....

Oh wow. Okay, leave it to Pedge and I to have a surprising sexual experience and immediately sit down to write something about it. My personal journey has been a bit meandering, but as I've discovered over my 45 years of existence, EVERYONE is on a unique journey, so I'm no more inhuman or ill-fitting then the rest of humanity.

I didn't pleasure myself until I was in my 30's, and there wasn't anything immediately pleasurable about it. It was a solid 2 weeks of trial and error, confusion and self-loathing until I discovered a buried component of myself and breathed a relative sigh of relief.

It's odd being a virgin, without a uterus or cervix...at the age of 45. I feel like a f*ckin' unicorn. While I had enjoyed a solid decade+ of pleasurable self-moments, it was pretty perfunctory. I've nurtured many a crush, but I'm not sure if there is a bridge between my physical desires of self and my emotional/spiritual desires from others. So I've started experimenting with a tentative ace label...or more accurately, a "sexy celibate"...But until I had my hysterectomy I thought I could just jam myself into the standard heterosexual, Western convention of relationships, marriage and children, receiving the emotional support and structure I wanted, while deftly sidestepping any sexual "eccentricities".

But after I had my hysterectomy everything was harder. At first I blamed my non-existent cervix, and employed more...vibrational means of enjoyment, and that was a revelation. Seriously, anyone that wants to self-experiment--Pedge and I couldn't encourage you more.

But after about a year, my pursuits started to feel more self-destructive than self-celebratory. Honestly, it felt like my SH narrative of yore, as I tried to vibrate my way into feeling human. Feeling self-acceptance? Feeling "normal". Soon, I was dealing more with pre-existing health problems and a hyptertonic pelvic floor, and all my toys went to the nearest landfill (can't donate those to Goodwill). My body was crying out for self-revelation, but I still don't always know how to give it to her.

2025 is my year-o-health and it's had a bumpy start. Four different doctors and I'm mostly making progress with my own research, extremely regimented diet and new routine. But after several weeks, I was feeling hungry in more ways than one. Maybe I had drowned out my still, small voice in such a vibrationally overwhelming and confusing world.

So my experiment resumed....with the F4 Trailer. Mind you, I didn't realize that at the time...All I can tell you is, I woke up in a foggy haze to Pedge's midrift digitally nuzzling against my tum-tum and decided I wanted more, and I f*cking got it. For the first time in my 45 years of existence I came under my own fingers, and we all have the F4 Trailer to thank for it.

That's not EXACTLY true, though that interview was a sight for sore eyes. Honestly, that overwhelming outfit of pattern and joy with the smallest bit of tummy peaking through....really just pushed me over the edge. Here is a man who seems to have joyously accepted himself and I bet I can learn how to do the same.

So here we are. Nothing has really changed. Just one, single, possibly ace, emotionally and spiritually confused level 45 human who joins the rest of the world in loving Pedro Pascal...and maybe getting one step closer to really loving themselves :)

It was very good for me.

And Pedge approves.

Baby Pedge

Oh man, Baby Pedge is the cutest. I've been thinking a lot about the start of any artistic journey and the many roads our dreams can lead us to. Delighted to see his recent appearance at Cannes with the beautiful Lux, and relishing the fruition of so many aspirations, finally realized. A reminder to all of us burgeoning artists that the moment of success is not always the moment most apparent to the crowd. But it's nice when we get to enjoy both...

Preview; RPF

You turned in his embrace, desperately trying to locate the chocolate depths of his eyes in the darkened room. “You didn’t ruin a thing, Pedge” you began. “As artists, we get to experience all of this together, wherever we find ourselves. Our victories. Our defeats. It’s one big tapestry, and it’s nice to find ourselves knitted together.” Even in the dark, you could feel the intensity of his gaze pouring into you. “Was tonight okay? I mean…do you need more?” you stuttered, eager to show your support in whatever way you could. The silence stretched out before you as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Perhaps you had said too much…Had the intimacy of the day somehow threatened your easy friendship? You heard a single tear patter to the pillowcase as Pedge caught you in an unexpected and passionate kiss. You held each other, attempting to hold time further still. “Today was everything I needed, and more” Pedge whispered. “Thank you for being my friend. I’m proud of you” he smiled, and your heart exploded in your chest with joy. “I’m proud of you, P” you whispered back, slowly starting to drift into a happy haze, feeling the hairs of his beard bristling at your neck and his arms wrapped firmly around your waist in comfort. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow, just rest” his voice echoed in the recesses of your mind before you fell asleep.

For anyone that enjoys RPF I hope you will check out my New York, New York Series and pair it with Pedge's Jukebox for the full immersive experience! I know RPF isn't for everyone, but Pedge is my avatar for para-social feelings, and I've been neglecting them for too long. Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book!

@lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

Pedro Scouts Glamping

A big thank you to @pedroscouts for this fun summer time activity! I ran into Pedge and he gently mentioned that my solo tent was a bit messy. He suggested some after care and a light massage because I was such a hot mess, so I've organized myself a bit more.

Ranks/Pledge I Pledge to Pedge Song Fic Use SomebodyPedge's Favorites Fan Art Papi Pascal Personal ArtJoel Miller @norththelemon Ellie and Joel @pebblume Din and Grogu @lupinsuniverse Game of Thrones Era @craftingwithamyc Esquire Magazine @saminadorazahi Beldro Ramscal Marcus Moreno We Can Be Heroes @firsttarotreader Cockwarming @flightlessangelwings Coffee Shop Coffee Shop Date @mermaidgirl30 Routine @endlessthxxghts Dieter Salt, Shot, Lime @freelancearsonist Enemies to Lovers Enjoy the Silence @strang3lov3 Whiskey Daniels How Much Does Devotion Weigh? @anabdaniels Ezra How to Write for Ezra @morallyinept Helianthus Fan Art @millersblud Sex Pollen Scarlet Haze @katiexpunk Only One Bed Killing Me Softly Series @alltheirdamn Frankie Morales Do You Feel It Too? @burntheedges Fluff + Smut Is Joel Okay? @djarinmuse Hurt/Comfort I Know Who You Are Series @punkshortChronicSweet DreamsNothing Hits Quite Like That First Kiss @backtothefanfictionYou're My Stranger In the Dark @lady-of-glass-and-bone Slow Burn Pike's Place Joel Miller Somewhere to Run @punkshortJust Ralphy @ameerawrites

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's very important that I continue earning badges. Pedge assures me that the reward of personal hard work is quite fulfilling and I'm not just talking about scout cookies. Happy summer activities!

Pinkie Pie Pedge

There is no justifiable reason why I'm posting this. It COULD be a showcase of my soon to be complete series "Pike's Place" and all things Pink. It MIGHT be an installment of Pedge Tweets, and an excuse to gaze longingly at our beloved. OR it might just be a distraction as I head into a barrage of tests and doctor visits for the New Year (#pinkpoop). MOSTLY it's just cause I think Papi Pascal is hot sh@t.

*thanks zephirahh for the design page!

*sweets from the sweets @inept-the-magnificent + @romanarose

God Said No...

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I've so enjoyed the recent foray into poetry and was reminded of Pedro's voice note via Omar Apollo's album, "God Said No...". Here's an excerpt for your enjoyment...

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

WIP; In Cold Blood

I think this was from "The Uninvited" press interviews, but our guy had such a scruffy, Columbo-like quality, it seemed very Rockford coded to me. The Cannes looks are so gorgeously coifed, but I also love seeing our guy at his casual best...

He seemed to feel the magnetic quality as well, and almost thinking better of it, his sudden intake of air broke the spell abruptly. “I’m going to head into the washroom first, do you need anything?” his voice had an unexpectedly tender quality as you shook your head mutely. Rockford nodded curtly before releasing your hand and meandering towards the washroom. So, he was an army man as well. So many of the boys had been drafted for World War II, but it almost seemed that the world was just realizing the extenuating repercussions more than a decade later. He must have been a kid, maybe nineteen or twenty at the time? You found yourself pensively watching his broad figure head to the bathroom before absentmindedly observing that your past was equally steeped in enigma and mystery. Rockford might be a P.I, but you weren’t sure how much of your unconventional, mid-western beginnings you wanted to divulge. You bit your lower lip hearing the shower spring to life, and couldn’t help but wonder; Perhaps there was more than one mystery to unearth here in Holcomb County, Kansas.

I am having a BLAST with Pedge's Bookshop as we delve further into our film-noir-esque fanfic of "In Cold Blood". Currently working on this next installment, "The Interviews"....

*Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book!

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

Use Somebody Song Fic

It's finally here! As per the amazing Song List by MK Frazier, y'all voted on Pedro's favorite selections and the results are in!

Triggers: Soft Dom dynamic, smut, toys, feather, edible wax, silk restraints, safe words, consent, M oral receiving, unprotected P/V in committed relationship, hair pulling, tummy kink, F is described as able bodied/long hair, exploration of intimacy...

I've been roaming around, always lookin' down at all I see Painted faces fill the places I can't reach You know that I could use somebody Someone like you and all you know and how you speak Countless lovers under cover of the street Off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep Wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat I hope it's gonna make you notice Someone like me I'm ready now Someone like you…

You looked over at Pedge who was laughing uproariously, eyes alight, watching the television screen like a little kid. The corners of your mouth turned up in delight, but truthfully, you weren’t watching the tv at all. It’s true, Pedge was enough to distract anyone from the allure of the cinema, but you had been particularly silent all evening, twiddling your thumbs with a grandiose plan. You bit your lip in anticipation as the commercials began to scroll and Pedge muted the tv.

“That wasn’t even scripted. It was totally improvised, I mean if you can believe everything you read on the internet…” he reached over to massage your upper thigh as you jumped about a foot.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he halted his ill-timed massage. “You know, you’ve been really quiet all night, did you want to watch something else?” he ventured, shutting off the tv.

Your response became even more tight lipped as your eyes widened to saucer shape, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Babe, did I miss something? Everything okay at work?” Pedge started to spiral slightly, unsure of the tone of your upcoming conversation.

“I’m a little…embarrassed…” you began “…or…excited…Maybe both? I’m not quite sure what I’m feeling…”.

Pedge held his breath hesitantly; imagination running wild.

“I’m a little unsure of my next therapeutic request…for our…sexy time adventures…”. This wasn’t coming out the way you had rehearsed in your mind. So much for the art of seduction.

Pedge breathed a small sigh of relief, moving his hand back up your thigh reassuringly, “There’s nothing you can suggest I’m not open to” he smiled. “I mean, I can’t promise to LIKE everything, but I’m a pretty open minded guy. Lemme have it.” He placed his hands in his lap, obediently, waiting for your next move.

“The Dom/Sub dynamic…”

“YES!” he pumped his fist theatrically, eliciting small giggles from you immediately at his enthusiasm. His face resumed an overtly somber expression. “Go on.” You started to breathe normally again, delighted with his expected response, but relaxing your shoulders as he began to massage your feet.

“The Dom/Sub dynamic has caught my attention once again…”

“Babe, let me stop you right there. In anticipation of your request I’ve ordered a few…accoutrements for our sexy time adventures, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…” he began.

Your mouth fell open in surprise, eyes squinting with incredulity. “I’m sorry, have you been developing your powers of telepathy?” you laughed, crawling onto his lap in a smooth motion and placing your hands on either side of his patchy beard.

“That’s correct. I can tell you’ve been doing the same, since you divined my pursuits” he joked, layering his hands over yours and kissing you lightly on the mouth. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about all evening?”

“Yeaaaaaah….” you pouted “but it’s a bit more complicated, as usual…” you continued. “Everything I was reading about never made any sense. I mean, not for me and my desires. There was all this stuff about humiliation, and degradation…and whips and shackles…”

“WHIPS AND SHACKLES?” his eyes lit up even more than before, grinning broadly from ear to ear and digging his fingers into your waist aggressively.

“Hold up there, mister!” you laughed, squirming underneath his touch “As fun as that sounds I might have to work up to it” you admitted. “I’m a soft Dom”.

Pedge halted for a second, aligning himself with what you just said and swallowing loudly. “A soft dom” he phrased it not as a question, but as a statement, opening himself up to the possibility.

“The softest” you whispered, sucking on his neck with feather light kisses. You felt his body shudder underneath you slightly as you blew a light breath over the wet marks your lips had left. “I’m actually a little concerned for your safety” you teased, somewhat jokingly, but with caution.

“I can be soft” he intoned, chest rumbling with depth.

“You’re not gonna be soft…” you reached down to start massaging his length gently “you’re gonna be hard” you began, feeling him melt underneath you and twitch with anticipation.

“When do we start?”

Pedge may have purchased a few items of interest, but you had been planning this possibility for a month. You set up a small table of toys at the side of the bed, as Pedge lay excitedly, waiting for instruction, and thumbing through the bondage cards in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?” you called from the bathroom, prepping yourself with nervousness.

“Honey, after that monologue you gave me in the living room, I don’t even know what to be ready for…” he admitted “I guess I’m….ready for anything!” his voice cracked slightly trying to find a mix of confidence and vulnerability.

“Okayeeee, ready or not, here I come!” you taunted, emerging from the bathroom in the pinkest of negligees you had ever purchased. Your breasts were on full voluptuous display, and the pink lace parted at your crotch for easy access. Pedge’s mouth dropped open, voraciously drinking you in, as the cards sloppily fell to the ground.

“Oops!” you giggled, dropping to your knees and sweeping up the cards for later games, and placing them back on the table.

“What do I do first?” he whispered, unsure of where to put his hands.

“Well, this is all about consent. You’re gonna give me an enthusiastic yes for everything before we do it” you drawled, watching his head nod in agreement. “It’s not a game, this is very real” you assured him, slowly picking up the large pink feather from the bedside table.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” he grinned brightly, rubbing his feet together with excitement.

“Just relax, sir. If I tell you everything that’s going to happen tonight, you’re not going to be surprised. Close your eyes for me”. Pedge snapped his eyes shut quickly, palms up on the bed, waiting for…something. You smiled to yourself, twirling the large feather in your hand. Oh this was gonna be fun. And nobody was gonna get hurt in the process. You were gonna take this man’s soul apart, and put him back together again.

You saw Pedge trying to steady himself, breathing deeply. One minute went by. Two minutes. You looked over at the table of toys in amazement. Silk restraints, a pink paddle…your eyes widened at the…spreader bar? You bit your lip with anticipation, moving to the side of the bed stealthily, feeling a powerful throbbing sensation between your legs, slightly intoxicated with the soft power flowing through your veins. When you finally dangled the feather above his belly button he jumped with sensitivity, hissing in surprise.

“Sorry babe, this is kind of uncharted territory” he apologized, opening one eye to find you gazing down at him intently.

“Was that a little too soft?” you questioned licking your lips hungrily, drawing the feather up and down his torso and between his legs.

“Don’t know” he laughed with some embarrassment. “I’m not used to being this…uh…pliant. But I’m all about the YES!” Pedge shifted innocently, balling his fists tightly alongside him on the bed. “Relax” you whispered into his ear, watching him melt into the mattress as you dragged the feather over his face seductively. Ghosting your lips over his face, his jaw, and his neck. Watching his chest rise and fall quickly, unsure of which sensation to anticipate next.

“It’sall pretty new” he sighed, relaxing his fingers and wiggling slightly in an attempt to relieve the tension. You smiled with acknowledgement, reaching over for a new toy. 

“I can see that” you observed, relishing his online selection with inquisitiveness and lighting a candle to prep.

He cleared his throat with momentary discomfort, “Yeah, we can indulge our inner arsonist…as long as we don’t accidentally light the apartment on fire” he laughed, jaw immediately slackening as you dangled the candle precariously over his soft stomach. He tried to stifle a loud gulp as you tentatively dipped your pinky in, to check the temperature. “It’s a little hot” you warned, bringing your finger into your mouth and sucking the wax.

Pedge bobbed his head enthusiastically, all words momentarily flung out of his mind.

“Strawberry! How’d you know?” you twinkled, dragging your tongue across your teeth like a Cheshire Cat, beaming at his proud response. Dipping into the melted wax you plunged your coated finger into his belly button eliciting a soft hum as he twitched underneath contentedly. 

“More” he whispered, “please”, attempting to calm the shake in his voice.

You felt the corners of your mouth tug upward as you began to drip a messy, snaking line of edible wax across the plane of his stomach. Now salivating as his skin glistened and puckered, you heard him hiss beneath you, writhing with the tickling sensation. Carefully setting the candle back, you crawled up and straddled his hips drawing a long, strong swipe of your tongue from navel to sternum, never breaking eye contact to see his response. His eyes darkened, white knuckling the sheets with intensity.

“That tickles” he rasped.

“I thought it might” you managed to get out before sucking at his nipples and nibbling down his torso. It was a pretty messy venture, licking and biting to catch all the waxy remnants. His hands gently gripped your head, massaging his fingers through your scalp.

“Is this okay? Can I touch you?” his voice had a gravelly edge to it, as you sucked into his navel.

“Absolutely” you mumbled into his belly button, relishing the strawberry snack. Finally reaching his happy trail you inhaled deeply, moving the tip of your nose in a broad circle, soaking in the musky aroma of his arousal and moaning with approval. Pausing to breathe and resting your chin just above his stomach you noticed his forehead wrinkling in concentration. You reached up to draw your fingers across his eyebrows. “Look at me for a second…”, you coo’d watching his eyes fly open confusedly.

“Am I doing it wrong?” he blurted out with concern.

Reaching up to circle your fingers around his nipples and pinching playfully. “No such thing, my honey” you dripped, feeling pools of desire between your legs, magnetically drawn to the steady heat of his body. You dragged your hands broadly down his sticky, wax coated chest.

“I don’t know any ‘supposed to’s’ really. I just like the way you feel. I wanna make sure you like the way you feel…” you explained, drawing your fingers down his sides and back up, watching the goosebumps splay across his honeyed skin. “Did you know that you have all the power right now?”

“I do?” he sparkled, completely mesmerized by the soft, open creature atop him.

“Yeahhhh…” you sighed, reaching over for the silk restraints and drawing them between your fingers seductively. His eyes glazed over as you drew his wrists together in front of his body, placing them over his stomach.  “But sometimes you don’t want that…” you started to wrap the silken fabric loosely around his wrists, kissing his fingers and biting at them softly.

“I don’t” he uttered somewhere between a question and an answer, completely lost in this new activity and your hypnotic stare. You leaned forward, vibrating into the soft suckle of his mouth as he exhaled beneath you.

“Oh yes” you breathed. “You can already feel yourself losing control just a little…”

“I can” his eyelids fluttered shut as he absentmindedly bucked his hips slightly with anticipation. 

“Tell me how your body feels” you questioned, gently sucking on his earlobe.

He swallowed dryly, keeping his eyes closed with determination. “I’m feeling…floaty…a little nervousssss…” he inhaled quickly with surprise.

You had reached behind you to hold his length in the palm of your hand, feathering your fingertips down the shaft and arriving at the tip which was dripping precum. He mewled happily as you slid your body down his torso, grabbing at his chest and nuzzling your face back into his manhood. Hovering over his stiffening member you decided to kitten lick the head, swirling the fleshy underside of your tongue around the tip and enjoying the salty taste.

“That’s okay, because you’re going to feel softer and softer and softer…” you VERY carefully grazed your teeth over his plumping length “as you get harder and harder and harder”. A whisper of a moan flew from his lips as he desperately tried to stay still.

Keeping your eyes trained on him you gently suckled at the tip, bobbing your head lightly and fluttering your tongue in butterfly like movements.

“Oh gawwwwd” he broke the silence, nearly startling you with the force of his voice “Fuuuuuck…” he whimpered, a nearly pained expression crossing his face. “It’s….uhgn…so….OH…soooooo….” you reached up to massage the underside of his quads and buttocks. Sucking and massaging and swirling and pinching.

Pedge started babbling incoherently, his sentences occasionally laced with words, “Baby it’s….OH GOD…I can’t quite….OH GOD…if I just….OH GOD…”. You could see a film of sweat start to coat his forehead, shining in the candle’s flickering light, as he bit his lower lip, nearly drawing blood.

Your eyes grew wide with intensity, trying to read his body and the many sensations. You felt that quintessential tightening in his lower body and a light tremor, but truthfully, something seemed a little off. You slowed your approach, watching his face relax with relief, and pull your lips down his member with a satisfying pop.

“Honey? Talk to me, do I need to go slower…” you asked with concern.

He seemed at a loss for words, eyes glazed over with an unreadable emotion.

“So much” he was breathing heavily, collapsed back on the bed, voice nearly cracking with effort. You quickly reached up and undid the restraints. 

“Do we need to stop?” you tried to hide the urgency in your voice, but your worst fears were starting to materialize in your imagination. You tenderly massaged his wrists and kissed the inner palm of his hand cautiously. “Why didn’t you use your safe word? Did you forget?” your heart started fidgeting wildly in your chest. Pedge caught his breath and gathered his surroundings again, taking you in with the tender gaze of his brown eyes.

“Honey” he started, tearing up ever so slightly. “Is this what it’s like for you?” he ventured, rubbing his eyes with emotion and trying to pull himself back together.

“What do you mean?” you asked in a hushed tone, wildly concerned you had overstepped.

“So beautiful” he reached up and cupped your face with one hand. “So beautiful” he repeated, as you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly. “I can’t…” he dropped his hands with exasperation. “I started floating away” he laughed tiredly, falling back on the bed with incredulity. “It was like…I couldn’t say no” he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment.

Your cheeks reddened with pride, pulling his hands lightly away from his face. “We can stop if it’s too much” you drew your finger across his bottom lip. “Are you having a hard time letting go?”

He nodded. “I just wasn’t ready for how soft everything was…I’ve never felt…like that…Like…I was you. Or, something weird. Like…my body…wasn’t here…or….it was everywhere….Jesus, what candle did I buy???” he started laughing with abandon.

You smiled, giggling with relief, “Should we stop now?” you thumbed his chin playfully, waiting for further instructions.

“Gawd no!” he whined, lifting you underneath your elbows and biting at your neck. “That was fucking amazing! I just need another chance…I’m the YES man!” he seemed to get a second wind, determined to demonstrate his willingness.

Your entire countenance collapsed with relief, hugging him tightly and passionately kissing him till you were both out of breath.

“Okay, take two” you smiled. “Now we know what we’re doing, that was just the sexy time rehearsal” you smirked, starting to move your hips in a circular motion over his stomach. Pedge took a deep breath, grazing his hands over your breasts and massaging lightly.

“Understood” he swallowed.

“And you remember your safe word?”

You started sucking lightly at his neck.

“YES!”

“And you’re going to use it if you feel yourself going somewhere you don’t like?”

You kissed down his sternum and swirled your tongue across his mid-drift.

“Oh yes….” he whimpered, begin to harden again underneath you.

“Because you want to let go for me…You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You looked up to see him wordlessly mouth “yes” as you massaged his length up and down

You eased down to notch the tip of him at your dripping entrance as he brought his hands under the orbs of your ass, in a basket hold. Slowly, so very slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, taking in every delightful inch, sheathing yourself around his member. Dropping your head forward, your hair cascaded around you both in messy ringlets, pressing your hands into his chest for support. A low groan rumbled through his sternum as you both took a moment to enjoy the connection of your joined bodies, breathing in tandem and moving to intertwine your fingers through his locks of hair.

“You’re minnnnne….” you growled enticingly, eyes lustfully at half mast, drawing your fingers harshly across his scalp and pulling the hair taut. “Do you want that? Do you want to be mine?”.

“Minnnne, ohhhh, yes…soooo…much…yourssss….” he repeated as you circled your hips in a languid pattern.

“And you’re going to let me use you” you moaned, gaining intensity and moving your hands lightly to the sides of his neck, as he drew his knees up under your body for leverage.

“Uuu—-uuuu—-uuse me” he started to intone, beginning to unravel underneath your body.

“And you can just let…” you gasped slightly, feeling him twitch inside you “you can just let go, because I’ve got you. I’ve got you…I’ve got you…” you started whispering on repeat, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment and floating into your own euphoria.

You felt P’s hips stutter and begin to shake with abandon, gripping the base of his neck as the pleasure intensified beyond belief. A white hot, searing light began to radiate through your core, rushing upwards and sideways and engulfing your body in flames of desire. Completely overwhelming, completely overpowering. You heard your voice release in ecstasy, outside of your own body, aglow with sensation.

In a haze of weightlessness and timelessness you felt P pulse underneath you as you fluttered around him. Strong arms gripped you around your torso as he came hard with ribbon after ribbon of heat, pouring into you and through you and dripping out of you. Melting into each other’s bodies you fell sideways in an embrace, intertwined in delight. Breathing heavily, you floated between disembodiment and pure clarity, feeling his length housed securely in your sex, still throbbing around him.

Being still. Coming back into your own body, feeling your breath expand outward, piecing your soul back together, your eyelids fluttered open to regain a sense of reality. 

And there he was. Eyes closed in rapture, smiling contentedly, lips parted peacefully. 

Yours. 

You kissed him lightly on the mouth, and as though breathing life into him, his eyes opened, reflecting dark pools of tranquility. You lay, nose to nose, breathing one another in and out for what seemed like an eternity, afraid to break the moment.

A single tear slid down your cheek as he reached up to wipe it away.

“Yes” he said. “A thousand times, yes”.

My Darling Muse vii,

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out...

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Series Masterlist

My Darling Muse,

I hardly know where I begin, nd where you end They say it pisses Love off, when you ignore Them So I observe You for all eternity I will embody Love for you, Love I, the red of passion, and You the hue of Blue Together we are royalty, we are wine, we are intoxication We are the Purple Haze. we are the Purple Summer We are a sea of irises, the sweet juice of the grape The prism of ultraviolet that is never seen, rather felt You breath me in, I exhale you lazily The fire that never quenches, The addiction that never harms We are the Purple Rain that drenches the drought Baptizing, redeeming, healing, a church of longing In you I form a new self, in you, my color truer still We bleed into each other, giving life; stilling death Written in the Margins: How do Purple Feelings, feel? Purple People Eater--Double Entrendre?

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter's PA. We have had our hands full with the recent debut of Dieter's latest film "Pike's Place". In it, he plays a character named Marcus Pike who is snowed in during a blizzard with his own Muse. Dieter took the time during filming to start reading "The Color Purple", but abandoned it in favor of the recent movie stating, "he wanted to look at more pretty pictures". Either way, Dieter seems to have been deeply impacted by its gravitas and assembled this self-portrait to consider the many ways purple has benefitted his life.

He also assembled the playlist Dieter's Deets to "get him in a purple mood", though I'm unclear what is particularly purple about it. Outside of drinking copious amounts of red wine and indulging in Purple Haze, this seems to be the primary way Dieter continues to passionately make love to....colors.

Filming has been stressful for D during this time, and I've advised him that it might be time to revisit rehab, if for nothing else, than the celery juice. There is a current campaign in the public eye to "Get Dieter Sober" to make sure he is Oscar ready for "Cliff Beasts 7". I personally think this is an excellent opportunity for respite. Though Dieter might never be completely sober, I feel he should at least be more...conscious.

He is currently napping in his silk purple pajamas and listening to "Purple Rain" on repeat...snoring.

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers

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Art Projects Dieter's Art Studio; My Darling Muse

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What Happened to Belen? Part Two

Grab a Latte! Don't forget to check out Ana's Archive! The largest open library in human history, with millions of books and papers preserved forever!

Triggers: profanity, pornography, smoking, attempts at Spanish, contemporary canon for "Narcos" character, fainting, discussions of the book "What Happened to Belen" which involve topics of abortion, miscarriage, homicide, women's rights, medical malpractice, judicial injustice, menstruation, harassment etc...

Series Masterlist

Words: 5k

“Take it outside” you muttered, standing quickly….too quickly, and nearly tripping over the base of the counter at your feet. Everything was so blindingly bright. Stars were beginning to enter your periphery once again, if you could just get some more Advil….Your thoughts started to slog slowly forward, as though on a malfunctioning assembly line, with your feet dragging haphazardly behind them.

“Maybe you should sit back down, hermosa…” Pena began, circling the counter to meet you. “Just get that out of my face!” you pushed your hand against Pena’s perspiration dotted chest, as a high pitched ringing sound drifted into your mind scape. What was happening? You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight. “Hermosa, you’re white as a sheet” but Pena’s voice was nearly inaudible as you focused tightly on the mustache decorating his plump lips. They were moving slowly, SO slowly before the power went out, leaving everything pitch black and sedate....

“Hot as hell out there, hermosa” he huffed, coughing slightly and rushing to help you with the stack of books. “So perhaps you can now tell me, what DID happen to Belen?”…he jested, the smell of nicotine tickling your nose pungently. Your stomach lurched slightly at the fragrance sensitivity. This Advil didn’t seem to be doing much, and your hormones were still raging out of control. You swallowed hard to down the rising bile in your throat, wondering if you wanted to slap Pena across the face or the ass first. “Perhaps I have overstayed my welcome, hermosa?” a concerned look crossed his face as he gauged your unknowable expression. 

“No, not at all!” you rallied, wiping the sweat from your brow and attempting to regroup. Pena had been nothing but conciliatory; it was your body you seemed to be at war with. 

“Let’s put you to work, agent…” you teased, motioning to the display case and putting your apron back on. “One of my favorite parts of the book is the description of the many women and organizations that rallied for Belen’s aid” you encouraged, returning with your book to the display counter and starting to judiciously display your books of choice.

“Excellent” Pena quipped, taking a step back to admire your burgeoning handiwork.

“At first, the word ‘abortion’ wasn’t even used in legal contexts. It couldn’t be written. What isn’t written does not exist. When in doubt, they used the word ‘homicide’. This didn’t happen all that long ago. In 2016 when Belen’s case first came to light, omitting the existence of abortions was part of the lexicon. But with the inclusion of women’s rights groups like the National Campaign for Abortion, representatives from Pan y Rosas, CLADEM and empathetic journalists, Belen’s story started to gain a voice”.

Pena picked up the book and read from the back cover, “Freedom for Belen! Sex ed so we can decide! Contraceptives avoid abortions! Legalize abortion! Save lives!”. 

You gingerly kneeled down, stacking the books aesthetically, hopeful it might grab some attention. “You know, in Argentina, as in many places the world over, you have to make noise outside the country so that people at home will hear about it. A woman’s failure to choose motherhood, whatever the reason, instantly makes her a criminal. Women must reassert the right to say no to something unwanted, whether it’s a partner, a pregnancy, sex or a traditional way of life. They must reassert the right to say no to the social mandates of submission and obedience. And saying no to these things means saying yes to our bodies, our emotional lives, our sexuality, to our participation in society, work, politics and everywhere else” you wiped your hands on your apron admiring your work.

“Well done, hermosa” Pena observed, reading the rest of the book cover, “Belen, you’re not alone. Chin up, Belen we’re with you. We’re fighting for you and for women who’ve been unjustly incarcerated all over the world.” Pena paused to reflect momentarily. “I’m…embarrassed I didn’t know more…” he massaged the back of his neck awkwardly. “This isn’t just about women’s rights. It’s about justice, and I know a thing or two about that…” he placated.

You stood quickly and immediately realized your mistake as bright orbs of crackling energy drifted into your periphery and the smell of iron tickled your nose. Pena was at your side in an instant, hand lightly fixed at your waist, as you swayed unsteadily.  “Hermosa?” his voice seemed to be coming from quite a distance away, as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose. “S-sorry, s-stood up too fast!” you deflected, leaning against him securely for a millisecond before returning to the counter, shaking your head from side to side. It WAS hot in here, and you were more embarrassed then ever at your momentary lapse. Menstruation was SUCH a drag, but you didn’t want to let on about your recent diagnosis. As if womanhood didn’t feel debilitating enough, you had already experienced years of struggle with endometriosis and were newly considering a hysterectomy. You didn’t find yourself in Belen’s position, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the helplessness she might have felt, judged by the medical community, government, society at large…and maybe even…herself. This was a piece of information you were determined to keep clandestine. Javier Pena’s eyes swam before you as his image coalesced into focus. “Did you hear me?” he gently asked again.

“Uh…sure….yes!” you piped up, immediately unsure of your response. He nodded curtly bringing you a stool and placing it behind the counter for your respite. “Perhaps my endless questions have needlessly exhausted you”. Your cheeks reddened with the heat AND embarrassment as you chastised yourself for existing. “I’m fine…just overheated is all” you huffed as Pena cleared his throat and sat back down across from you. 

“So, what happened to Belen? How did she find redemption in such a storm of injustice?” he asked.

You sighed heavily, retrieving your book and flipping through the pages. “Well, at first she had to survive in the prison system. Family visits, challenging circumstances, holidays…This was an environment she had never been in before…”. You read, 

“I kept walking around the prison and talking to women who were there for reasons unknown to me. I realized some are doing time for murder and others for stealing, and that many are inside because they covered for a partner or family member. Soledad told Belen about a young woman called Maria Magdalena. The doctors who treated her at the hospital accused her of having an abortion. And that’s not right. medical staff have a duty of care”.

Pena dragged his thumb across his bottom lip pensively, starting to bite at the cuticles. “Seems like it all happened so fast. One minute she was living her life, the next…” his voice trailed off reflexively.

“There was no DNA evidence. The report mentioned more than one fetus, and none of them were preserved. There were no records showing Belen’s admission even. There is no evidence, there is simply none. The doctors who accused her were still living their lives. The men who convicted her continued like nothing happened.”

“And I’m still in here” Belen says. All I’m asking is for them to reevaluate the case. They don’t know what it’s like waking up in the same place every day, being away from your family ever day. They’re in their homes. They don’t know what it’s like to have to file a request just to see a friend. The judges are in their chambers, smoking, drinking coffee. And they have to live with the fact that they sentenced me to this place. What happened to me happened because I couldn’t get 20,000 pesos in less than forty eight hours. If I’d had the money, I could’ve defended myself. But I thought, why should I have to pay money when I did nothing wrong? Worse still, they tried to pass off a miscarriage as a murder, seemingly for political gain. ”

Pena had run out of words, reaching into his back pocket for another cigarette and rolling it between his fingers.

“In our society, when people wan to hide something, they find someone to blame. They point their fingers at those who can’t defend themselves, and they accuse them. They don’t listen to them. These people become guilty because of their faces, their clothes, because they’re poor or because they’re women.”

“Luckily, Soledad began to identify the discrepancies at Belen’s first trial, 

“The doctor has a legal obligation to maintain confidentiality unless expressly told otherwise by the patient. The patent’s silence can in no way be seen to provide a valid ad rational motive to breach the physician’s duty to professional confidentiality. All the evidence adduced in Belen’s case should have been inadmissible. The physician’s and midwives’ testimonies were in themselves a crime. She was convicted without valid evidence. In addition, no one can be compelled to testify against himself. It is a cruel, latent and ignoble violation of this precept to use the distress of a women who had an abortion to report her crime, whether wrenched via exploited confession or duress through a state of physical and spiritual helplessness. Moreover, public interest cannot justify so inhuman a dilemma; prison or death.”

“Finally, some common sense!” Pena exclaimed, dangling the cigarette in his mouth and immediately removing it under your scolding stare. “Lo siento, hermosa, continue por favor…” he returned to delicately fingering the unused smoke.

“At the time, Belen did not know she was pregnant, nor did she look pregnant. She never stopped menstruating and felt no movement in her belly, her body was normal and her breasts hadn’t grown. She and her mother went to the emergency room for the abdominal pain. A person who wants to commit homicide—a person who knows they’re going to have a baby and is determined to cause their death simply doesn’t go to a hospital”

“Obviously!” Pena retorted, grabbing for his lighter and subsequently tossing it on the counter impotently. 

You shook your head reprimandingly, “It was nearly two years of waiting and resolving before Belen had her second day in court, facing her original sentence, this time with Soledad at her side. Belen recounts, 

“First of all, I’d like to say I didn’t know I was pregnant, so you can’t tell me that I committed the atrocity that I’m being accused of. How can you say I cut the umbilical cord? Where is the DNA evidence that proves the discovered fetus of 36 weeks was mine? They gave me an intravenous sedative and when I awoke, I was covered in blood and police officers were examining my private parts. No one looked after me, before treating me like I was a murderer…”

These trials end up being more moral than legal, ironically enough as God is said to serve in the capital. The morning in court when the judges read her the grounds for her conviction, Belen cries again. Unlike the day her verdict was read the courthouse i packed because now people in Tucuman know what is happening. “Calm down, no one can see you anymore” a prison guard encourages. Now raise your head and look outside. All these people are here for you”. Belen sits up, at first fearfully. Finally, Belen relaxes. she cries, but this it’s different”. 

“Some of us can raise our voices and have the privilege of health care access. Others can afford to become mothers. Others experience the same troubles Belen did but are less formatted because their cases aren’t talked about, and so they are still in prison. Then there are others who aren’t here to tell their stories today, because they died trying, during miscarriage. This issue moves me. A great deal. I still don’t understand how it is that in the 21st century we women still have to relinquish our independence and our freedom to a society that imposes its way of life on us. Why do we have to be the talk of the town? Why do we have to air our most private decisions?”.

Pena gulped in silence, possibly reflecting on his own private decisions, playing with the lighter in front of him. You grabbed a tissue from your apron and wiped your brow profusely. The AC had been broken all week, but it was supposed to be getting cooler, not hotter. The words of the book began to blur and dance in front of you, as you put a wearied hand over your eyes.  “What time does your shift end?” Pena asked, already aware of how propositional his question sounded, but your countenance was pale and blanched as compared to the start of the day. Something was obviously wrong, but he didn’t want to leave you alone in whatever plight you found yourself. 

Unhearing, you sallied forth. “Where was I?” you blinked, squinting at the book with determination. “Eventually she has her day in court, and things start to change slowly but surely.

“Belen starts to receive support from everyone around her at the correctional facility, online and even abroad, The organizations put together an online campaign to denounce the press’ persecution of Belen and call for people to leave her alone. The campaign consisted of people taking selfies with a sign that says are you looking for Belen? I’m Belen. Men and women of all ages, some angry, others amused, some bearded, others very young, hold the same sign and post it online with a caption—‘They’re trying to infringe on her privacy, to see her face. But what they don’t realize is that Belen isn’t just one person. She thousands! Belen is all of us!’”

Pena leaned back against the stool beaming momentarily, before absentmindedly lighting the cigarette in front of him and taking a deep drag. “Victory” he puffed before viewing your incredulous face. His expression immediately fell with chagrin, considering how to snub out the cigarette, whilst desperately inhaling. “Lo siento, hermosa” he mumbled into the cigarette, possibly trying to inhale it in one draft. He looked towards the front door, considering an ill-timed exit before taking in your pained look. The fragrant aroma of the cigarette usually would have been fine, but your head was pounding and your abdomen was irritatingly alight with menstrual cramps and distress.

“Take it outside” you muttered, standing quickly….too quickly, and nearly tripping over the base of the counter at your feet. Everything was so blindingly bright. Stars were beginning to enter your periphery once again, if you could just get some more Advil….Your thoughts started to slog slowly forward, as though on a malfunctioning assembly line, with your feet dragging haphazardly behind them.

“Maybe you should sit back down, hermosa…” Pena began, circling the counter to meet you.

“Just get that out of my face!” you pushed your hand against Pena’s perspiration dotted chest, as a high pitched ringing sound drifted into your mind scape. Oh shit, what was happening? You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight.

“Hermosa, you’re white as a sheet” but Pena’s voice was nearly inaudible as you focused tightly on the mustache decorating his plump lips. They were moving slowly, SO slowly before the power went out, leaving everything pitch black and sedate.

This was the WORST mattress you had ever been on, including the taut pillows. It felt hard as a rock. To say nothing of the nicotine infused fragrance of whatever hotel room you found yourself in. Your eyes blinked open hazily, taking in your surroundings. Why did this hotel room look exactly like a Barnes and Nobles?

“There she is” Pena’s voice was amplified to that of a megaphone as the tingling sensation in your arms and legs started to dissipate. You squinted up into the bright lights of the ceiling as Pena’s concerned expression drifted into your line of sight. You licked your lips to say something, but your mouth was as dry as cotton. Were you on the floor?

“Power outage?” you heard your voice rasp quietly, attempting to take stock of the situation.

“I guess you could say that” Pena chuckled softly, running a hand across your forehead. Oh my God, did you have your head on his thigh? You tried to sit up, but felt as heavy as an anvil, as he placed a hand behind your neck. “You sort of had a personal power outage, before fainting into my arms, hermosa” he smiled. “Had me worried, I nearly called the police”. You sank back down against his lap for a second, waiting for the disorientation to pass. “I’m a total ass, no more cigarettes this time, I promise” he apologized, placing a heavy hand on your forehead appraisingly before shrugging with helplessness. “This seemed preferable to books for pillows” he chuckled, the tinge of worry in his voice evident.

“Well this is embarrassing” you finally smirked, focused on breathing deeply and bringing your knees up slightly underneath you.

“Mierda…” he encouraged, leaning against the wall and finally relaxing. “It is your time of the month, no?”. You froze with apprehension at the intimacy of his observation, but quickly relaxed against his thigh once again.

“Guilty as charged” your cheeks blushed with a crimson hue. This had to be the strangest work day in the history of employment. You found yourself surprisingly grateful that you weren’t alone.

“You’re not the first woman I’ve made faint” Pena tried to tease as you scoffed good-naturedly. You took a look around at the smattering of books littering the floor. “You managed to bring down half the display case with you however” he noted, straining to reach for the copy of “What Happened to Belen” before settling back against the wall. You both sat in silence for a minute or two, thankful that no customers were entering the bookshop, as Pena thumbed through the book introspectively. You were surprised at the tenderness in his voice as he started to read Belen’s words to her supporters, 

“Greetings to all the women, to the warriors, and to everyone who’s stood by me until now. I want to thank you for making my fight your own. Thank you for standing up for me, for making sure my voice and truth were heard. I was silent for two years. I couldn’t bring myself to talk. I was scared. They told me I would get life. They convicted me on hearsay alone, for being poor, for going to a public hospital, for not having the money to to a private clinic and hire a good lawyer. I haven’t been home or seen my family March 21st, 2014. They robbed me of so much. All I wanted was help and instead I was detained, surrounded by police officers and accusatory fingers. Two years and three months away form home. They took away my life! Did any of them wonder how I felt that night? They accused me and asked if I’d induced an abortion. My mother was mistreated, too. No one cared about me. She’s ignorant, she doesn’t know anything, they probably told themselves. Even though I said I hadn’t done anything, that I hadn’t killed anyone. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I cry because of the injustice I’m experiencing. But I’m also calm, because I know I will get justice. I am stronger now, calmer. I never hurt anyone, never stole, never killed, I don’ know drugs. I’ve worked my whole life. I always did everything I was supposed to. I will forever be grateful to every who’s helped my voice be heard. I’m sending you all my love. It makes me so happy not be alone. Thank you and thank you again to all you women. Let us all fight and be heard so that no woman is imprisoned for abortion again. ow your struggle is my struggle, too”.

Pena’s soft baritone voice hummed quietly as you heard the dull traffic sounds outside. Dusk was starting to descend as you looked up into his face. You could have sworn you saw the smallest of tears glistening at the corner of his eye before he brushed it away, clearing his throat.

“Can you stand, hermosa?” he asked, sitting upright, your head still atop his lap.

“Let’s find out” you parried, his solid hand easing you forward and massaging the back of your neck deftly. A small moan escaped your lips as you tucked your legs beneath you.

“Long day” Pena observed, allowing his hand to drift to your back in slow, methodical circles. “Is this okay, hermosa?” 

“More than okay” you realized, scratching at scalp and smiling tiredly. This work day had proven unexpectedly enjoyable, amidst an obstacle course of challenge. You leaned back towards him with a slightly dopey expression. “Thanks for your help, Pena”.

“We aim to please” the corner of Pena’s mouth drifted upwards, as he carefully stood to his feet, offering his hand once again in support. You felt a bit like Bambi at first, getting your legs beneath you and holding on to Pena’s steely grasp. Closing your eyes for clarity, you breathed in his warm fragrance of nicotine, cologne and sweat as Pena watched you intently.

“Nearly done with our story” you whispered, locking eyes with him and finally noticing his hand at your waist, moving in soothing circles.

“I almost don’t want it to end” he replied, licking his lips attentively. You looked towards the clock once again. What had started as a day of doldrums had nearly evaporated before you. One more hour before your shift was over. “Sit back down while I clear things up” he offered, setting you back on the stool definitively and collecting the books at your feet.

“I guess I can be grateful today that we didn’t defund the police” you tried to joke, but caught Pena’s apologetic visage.

“This story is a travesty” he grumbled, collecting the books and handing you the literature of the hour. “I’m as imperfect as the next man, but I joined the DEA to make a difference. Belen’s story is…an embarrassment. I wish I knew how to help”. He set the last of the books on the counter and leaned against it with dejection.

“It’s not all bad” you sighed, uncharacteristically reaching up to cup his face in the palm of your hand, and running a thumb against his five o’clock shadow. Pena’s eyes took on a new sheen of redemption as he took your hand in his. “Tell me” he agreed as you referenced the book once again.

“Finally after nearly three years, Belen is released from prison. She can now begin the long process of championing her government to make the necessary changes, 

“The warden insists before her release, ‘You need to understand that you’re not a criminal. You have no reason to hide.” In the evening the cellblock breaks into song and applause. The sounds travel over the wall and infect the women who have been waiting outside since morning. The activists from the  organizations form two lines to shield Belen from the cameras. They wear masks of white and green, but their expressions are the same; rigid, stern faces and masks featuring the words, “We are Belen”. Belen steps onto the street watching balloons float high in the sky. “This must be a dream” she wonders, but after two years, four months and twenty three days in prison, Belen gets back some of her freedom”.

Pena smiled, placing his hands on his hips defiantly, “Todo va bien”. He was looking resolutely at the ground and nodding definitively. 

“Justice for all” you agreed, feeling tears spring to your eyes at the end of a long day. Stupid hormones. “Thanks to events like ‘Green Action Day’ and the printing of this book, Belen’s government begins the arduous process of lawmaking, and she remains timidly at the forefront.

“It is difficult to conceive of a sphere more ‘private’ than an individual’s own body. The right of individuals to prevent others from invading or interfering with that body is an essential component of a private life, where personal autonomy is paramount…as listed in the Constitution.” The prospects might seem tenuous, but Belen’s case was gaining more and more steam. The majority of women were in favor of legalizing abortion, while a majority of men were against it. Belen says, 

“It’s been three years since I was released, and I feel enormously happy and grateful to everyone who helped me through the most difficult time of my life. Today, I am firm in my decision. I’m not the weak woman I was bak then, broken by a patriarchy that, 6 years ago, sentence me to 8 years in prison for a crime I didn’t commit. Now I am a strong woman pumping her arms in the air and calling for an end to the unjust imprisonment of women for abortions. It’s been three years since I was released and I am here, yelling at the top of my lungs; we can do it girls, the patriarch will fall!”

“Freedom fighter indeed” Pena observed, slamming a soft fist against the counter definitively. “It can’t be easy though…reclaiming her life after….everything….”

The fatigue was starting to catch up with you as you searched the book for your notes. “You’re right, the road to redemption is rarely an easy one” you acquiesced.

“She’s been having panic attacks. Then second she walks out of the house, she start shaking and feeling faint. Her heart races. She has regular fits of crying and rage. “It was like my body was still in prison, like it couldn’t get used to me being free. They told me to try therapy, but I could’t make it to the offices, because I got dizzy every time i tried to leave the house. My family helped me with that. And when I got frustrated they would be there to tell me everything was going to be alright. ‘You got out of prison, there’s no way you can’t get out of the house. Sometimes I wake up at night screaming “No, don’t take me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” When the Supreme Court finally issued the decision to exonerate she looks in the mirror and utters the words she would like to say to the whole world. Didn’t I tell you I was innocent?

Belen hasn’t been to a hospital in three years. She still has nightmares of physicians and police officers storming into the operating room. She still feels scared because of how she was treated that night, long ago. Yet she isn’t a fearful person. “One day I’ll probably have to tell people who I am, but I’m taking it slow for now”.

You took a deep breath, smiling at Pena in repose. “Belen has done so much to change the landscape of this discussion, not just in Argentina, but internationally as well. To know that there are other women, facing great struggle, but using their voices to take a stand…” you felt the emotion of the moment swirling within you, but decided to press on… “I know I already live such a privileged life, but you wouldn’t believe…”. Your voice cracked as it bent under the weight of recent challenge and a lump crept into your throat tightly. Pena grabbed your elbow firmly in solidarity.

“Steady, hermosa” he cautioned, stroking higher up to your shoulder with encouragement.

“It’s okay, I mean you’ve already seen me at my worst…Or my most unconscious!” a sound escaped from your lips somewhere between a cry and laugh as your body trembled in place. “The author even talks about the liberation of the women’s rights movement as it relates to women in the workplace. We’re no longer required to hide our sobs in the company bathroom” a big, fat tear rolled down your cheek as Pena lightly brushed it away. 

“Fine by me” he whispered. “We all must bear the weight of our burdens, but this isn’t something you have to carry alone”. Your eyes widened with realization at his beautifully articulated point. He was right. In as much as it is our responsibility to articulate the challenge, it is our continued privilege to accept the support. You sniffled quietly as Pena gazed up at the clock knowingly.

“Looks like I’m your only customer for today” he observed softly, turning towards you and pulling you in for a tentative hug. You were about to protest before reconciling to the desire, wrapping your arms lightly around his waist, and trembling in his grasp.

“I wouldn’t have thought you so eloquent when we first met” you mumbled into his shirt, relaxing against his solid frame. Pena rested his head quietly atop yours, swaying a bit from side to side.

“I keep telling everyone that I read Playboy primarily for the articles…” he teased, pulling back to gaze at you pensively. “Time to close up shop” he brushed a few stray tears from your face once again before kissing you lightly on the forehead. The surprise that registered on your face seemed to delight him as he headed to the front door. Turning the sign to the the “CLOSED” position he caught a straggler that was approaching from the sidewalk. “I’m sorry we’re closed for the night!” he shouted through the window as they dejectedly shrugged their shoulders and walked away. He turned back to you gesturing apologetically as you giggled from the counter.

Pena helped you tidy up a bit before you headed back to the locker room to discard your apron and grab your things. Holding the book lovingly in your hands you met him in the foyer before exiting. “I don’t know how to ask this without sounding somewhat brazen…” Pena actually looked embarrassed, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck awkwardly. “But…could I see you home?” he finally confessed, his eyes a deep brown of sincerity. “Just…to make sure you’re okay…or…” he tripped haltingly over his words. It was a strange dichotomy to see such a confident man, momentarily unravelling.

“I’d like that” you smiled tiredly, taking his hand in yours and locking up the bookshop. His hand swung easily in your grasp as you headed to his car.

“So, what finally happened to Belen? Did she get the freedom she so richly deserved?” Pena asked, opening the car door for you and seating you inside. 

“See for yourself”. You opened the book to the final chapter, referencing your favorite part;

“I woke up to a message that the Chamber of Deputies had approved the bill, legalizing abortion. I think it’ll become law because women’s suffering is finally out in the open. I learned to fight, little by little and from the bottom. Even though things weren’t easy for me when I moved to Buenos Aires, I began rebuilding my life from scratch, she told the journalist who interviewed her. I never imaged I’d be unjustly imprisoned for there years, for doing nothing, But wounds heal.”

“Two days from now will be the first anniversary of the date I effectively regained my freedom. How will I ever forget the day I set foot on the street again, with my angels! How will I ever forget how much they helped me! How will I ever forget all the women who spent hours waiting to welcome me outside! How will I forget my fellow inmates and the prison guards and the night we said goodbye! How will I ever forget my family, who was anxiously waiting for me! How will I ever forget that day! Everyone awaited my return after two and half years of unjust imprisonment. How will I ever forget that was the day…I WAS REBORN! How will I ever forget the day one of my angels put a pencil to paper and wrote down the words I couldn’t speak! A year after my release I can only give thanks to God and my angels. Who is it that said we don’t have angels? I can testify today that they exist. How will I ever forget that amidst all the anxiety and distress my angels were there with me, holding my hand and listening. I am eternally grateful. Thank you! Thanks to every woman and every organization, to the women’s movements and to all the people who did their part to help me, who put on their “Freedom For Belen” T-shirts and went into the street to fight for my freedom.”

“Excelente” Pena observed, starting the car and turning towards you. “Alright, hermosa, show me the way home” he smiled, tucking a stray hair behind your ear tenderly.

As the author states at the beginning of the book, “There are many people hiding stories we aren’t always prepared to hear.” But after spending the afternoon with Agent Pena and remembering the value of your own unique narrative, you at least were sure this was a story you wouldn’t soon forget.