Spanking

Chapter 15 They settled into the sofa after their shower, both wrapped in soft clothes, hair damp, breakfast long forgotten on the counter. Something in the air shifted—a softness, a quiet seriousness that hadn’t been there before. Melissa sat cross-legged, facing Jasper. He noticed the way she kept smoothing the hem of her shirt between her fingers. A nervous tick. One he was learning. “Hey,” he said gently. “What’s going on?” Her eyes flickered up to his, then away again. A breath, unsure but determined. “Can we talk about… last night. This morning…?” Jasper blinked. “Of course. Anything.” Melissa nodded, gathering herself. “I… woke up wet.” He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. “I know,” he said softly. She took a shaky breath. “But I woke up dry, too. Because of the diaper. And that’s never been something I’d expect to be… comfortable admitting out loud.” She swallowed. “It’s a huge part of my life, Jasper. Every night. And usually, I wake up embarrassed. Or trying to hide it. Or pretending it didn’t happen.” Jasper’s expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt. She continued, voice low. “But last night… I woke up dry. And safe. And—” she hesitated, cheeks warming, “—held.” He listened, still and attentive. “Your arm was around me,” she whispered. “Like you were guarding me in your sleep. And your hand was under my shirt, on my tit—” she placed a hand over her breast as if demonstrating “—not grabbing, not anything weird. Just… there. Warm. Protective.” He nodded slowly. “I remember waking up like that. I thought you might move me away.” “I didn’t want you to.” Her voice cracked, just barely. “And your body… you were pressed against me. Completely. Like you were trying to keep me close even when you weren’t awake enough to know it. I could feel you… hard. Against me. Against… my diaper.” Jasper looked thoughtful. Almost confused. “That’s just… how I sleep with someone I care about, I guess. Pressing against you… The diaper wasn’t exactly uncomfortable to press on. Like an extra layer of soft.” Melissa let out a small breath, her eyes brightening with a mix of relief and vulnerability. “That’s the thing, Jasper. You acted like it was normal. Like I was normal.” Her voice thinned. “Even in a diaper. And the way you came with me to the bathroom, saw me take it off, then, you taking the wet diaper, and rolling it shut… wow, it sort of took my breath away.” Jasper frowned softly, leaning forward, not dismissive — thoughtful. “Melissa… it’s not normal,” he said quietly. “Not in the sense of ‘everybody deals with this.’ And I’m not going to pretend it is, because that would feel fake and you’d see right through me.” Melissa stiffened a little, bracing for something she’d heard before. “But,” he continued gently, taking her hand, “it is something real. Something you live with. Something we can figure out together. And it’s not something that makes you less. Or embarrassing. Or hard to love.” Her eyes softened, surprised. “I know it’s complicated,” Jasper said. “Messy sometimes. Frustrating. I know it’s a big deal for you, and it should be. And I’m not going to ignore it or pretend it doesn’t matter.” He squeezed her fingers lightly. “But here’s the part that matters to me: it doesn’t scare me off. We can work with it. We can even make it… I don’t know… ours. Something we handle together. Maybe even find humor in. Comfort. Some piece of it that isn’t just shame or hiding.” Melissa blinked, a stunned laugh catching in her throat. “Like… fun?” “Absolutely,” Jasper said with a crooked smile. “Why not? Fun, kinky… Couples deal with awkward stuff all the time. Ours just happens to involve bedtime armor. And comfortable, at that. Even, cute!” She laughed — really laughed — and Jasper’s smile deepened. “I care about you,” he said. “All of you. The confident parts, the anxious parts, the quirky parts, and the parts you’re terrified to show. This… is just one piece of who you are. And it’s a piece I’m willing to learn and live with.” Melissa’s throat tightened, but in a warm way. “You’re really… okay with this?” she whispered. “Even long term?” Jasper brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Melissa, I’m not just okay with it. I’m here. With you. If it means handling soggy mornings, laundry, a stash of cute bedtime supplies, awkward moments, extra cuddles — great. We’ll figure it out. Together. Maybe use extra soap in the shower.” A tear finally slipped down her cheek. “And hey,” he added lightly, “you looked pretty adorable this morning when you shuffled out of bed half-asleep in a wet diaper.” She covered her face with her hands. “Stop.” “Nope,” he said, pulling her gently into his arms. “I’m serious. We don’t have to pretend it’s normal. We can just make it ours.” She rested her head against his chest, relief blooming in her like sunlight. “Okay,” she whispered. “Ours.” Jasper pressed a soft kiss to her hair. “Ours.” -- “What do you want to do?” Jasper asked, leaning against the counter with that half-awake, half-satisfied look that made Melissa blush every time. She stretched, trying to shake the cozy fog of the morning off. “I was thinking we should leave the apartment. Clear our heads a bit. It’s either that, or…” She gave him a look. “Sex all day.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you say that like it’s a bad plan.” “It’s not,” she laughed, “but if we don’t get fresh air, I will fall asleep on you by noon.” Jasper nodded. “Fair. So? Sunday plans?” “Hmm…” She tapped her lip. “Park day? Maybe walk around somewhere? My car’s still in the shop, so unless we take yours…” “My car it is,” Jasper said. “Shopping, walking, maybe lunch?” “All the above,” Melissa agreed, grabbing her bag. Once they were in the car, the debate began. They tossed around new ideas, but neither had the mental energy to play adventurous tourists. Eventually, they settled on something simple, familiar, comforting—the Krog Street Market area. “God, I feel like a lazy tourist just… driving,” Melissa said as she buckled in. “Last time Bella and I took our bikes. She’ll probably laugh at me for taking the car. My own little sister.” Jasper shrugged, letting the old BMW warm up with its confident, throaty idle. “A classic car isn’t too bad either. If you’re going to be lazy, at least do it in style.” Melissa snorted. “Bella would call this an old car.” “Not if people ask to buy it while I’m trying to park,” Jasper countered. “Then it’s a restored classic. Ask any car nerd about a working 80s BMW that’s driven daily and pampered… they’ll break out in goosebumps.” Melissa gave the dashboard an appreciative glance. “It is a beautiful car. And I like it,” she admitted, sliding her hand over Jasper’s where it rested on the gear shifter. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He eased the car into the street, came to a stop at the sign, then glanced her way. “The car looks a lot better with you in it.” Melissa’s cheeks warmed. “Thanks,” she murmured, looking out the window but still smiling. Jasper shifted gears smoothly, the engine purring, the morning wide open before them. And for the first time all day, Melissa felt her chest unclench—like today might just be exactly what they needed. - The BMW hummed down the quiet Sunday streets, sunlight sliding through the windows in slow, warm flashes. Melissa shifted in her seat, settling in with an easy sigh. She’d thrown on a short skirt and a loose blouse — casual, simple, but somehow still unfairly distracting. Jasper kept his eyes on the road. Mostly. “You’re quiet,” Melissa said, side-eyeing him with a small smile. “Just driving,” Jasper replied, a little too quickly. She smirked. “Just driving, huh?” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Yep.” Melissa crossed her legs. Slowly. Deliberately. The skirt naturally shifted with the movement, inching higher than she probably realized — or exactly as much as she intended. Jasper’s eyes flicked over for a split second before snapping back to the windshield. “Eyes on the road,” she teased. “Oh, I’m trying,” he muttered. Melissa leaned her head back against the seat, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. “You don’t like what I’m wearing?” “I like it too much,” Jasper said before he could stop himself. Melissa turned toward him fully now, one knee up on the seat, the blouse slipping a bit off her shoulder in a way that absolutely wasn’t helping. “Too much, huh?” “That’s… not what I meant,” he said, cheeks warming. “Sure it is.” She nudged his shoulder lightly. “You’re flustered.” “I’m driving,” he insisted. “And flustered,” she corrected. “I can tell.” The light caught her skin as she shifted again, the hem of her skirt drifting just a touch farther up her thigh with the motion. The edge of white cotton. Absolutely inappropriate — just enough to make Jasper’s breath hitch for a second. She noticed. Of course she did. “Should I pull it down?” she asked, pretending innocence. “No,” Jasper said way too fast. Melissa laughed, soft and delighted. “Thought so.” He shook his head, eyes locked forward. “You’re trouble.” “You love it,” she said matter-of-factly. He glanced at her then — just a second — and saw the small smile, the playful confidence, the way she was clearly enjoying watching him try (and fail) to keep his cool. “Yeah,” he admitted, turning back to the road. “I really do.” She softened at that, her teasing smile turning warmer. The rest of the drive settled into a quiet rhythm — playful glances, small touches, Jasper reaching for her hand whenever he could spare one. Melissa leaning against the window, humming along to the music. Jasper stealing tiny looks when she wasn’t watching, just to take her in. It was sensual. It was chemistry. Something building slow and sure between them. And by the time the Krog Street Market sign came into view, Melissa reached across the console and squeezed his thigh with a grin. “See?” she said. “We made it.” “Barely,” Jasper muttered. She laughed. And he couldn’t help but laugh with her. - The parking lot near Krog Street Market buzzed with Sunday energy — cyclists weaving through, families unloading strollers, couples wandering hand in hand. Jasper eased the BMW into a spot at the far end, the engine settling into its familiar purr before shutting off. The moment they stepped out, a man in his late thirties, wearing a Braves cap and holding a cold brew, slowed to a stop in front of them. “Hey man,” he said, whistling low. “Now that… is a beauty. You ever think about getting rid of her?” Jasper grinned, leaning casually against the driver’s door. “Not a chance.” The man chuckled. “Can’t blame you. They don’t make them like that anymore.” Melissa stood at the passenger side, watching the two with an amused quirk to her mouth. The man’s eyes flicked briefly to her, polite and friendly, then back to Jasper. “Seriously though,” he added, “if you ever get tired of her, you let me know. I’d take real good care of her.” Jasper laughed. “Sorry, man. I’m attached.” “Figured,” the man said, raising his coffee in a little salute. “Can’t blame you. She’s a rare find.” He headed off toward the market with a wave. Jasper shut the car door, slung an arm around Melissa’s shoulders, and started walking. She stayed quiet for a few beats, letting the crowd and the music from the food stalls wrap around them. Only when they were clear of the parking lot did she tilt her head toward him. “So,” Melissa said casually, “was he talking about me or the car?” Jasper snorted. “Please. I barely let him finish talking about the car.” Melissa raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh. So you’re not planning to get rid of me?” He stopped walking just long enough to look straight at her, eyes warm. “Melissa. I’m not getting rid of either of you.” She laughed — a happy, honest burst of sound — and nudged him with her shoulder. “Good answer.” They kept walking, blending into the Sunday crowd, their hands brushing until Melissa finally laced her fingers through Jasper’s. “Besides,” he added, glancing at her with a crooked grin, “you’re an even rarer find.” She shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You’re impossible.” He kissed the side of her temple as they stepped into the market. “And you love it.” - It felt genuine. Sweet. Maybe even quietly romantic. Walking beside Melissa, Jasper felt ten feet tall. She moved with easy confidence in her short skirt and loose blouse, sunlight catching her hair, her steps light as she kept pace with him. Jasper, in his jeans and polo, felt almost overdressed next to her — but they looked good together. Balanced. Natural. By the time they found a table at the market and sat down with pints of craft beer, Jasper could feel himself relaxing into the day. The noise of the crowd faded into a comfortable backdrop. Melissa wiped a bit of foam from her lip and glanced around. “This is nice,” she said. “Beer and zero pressure.” Jasper chuckled. “You’ve had enough pressure to last a lifetime.” Melissa’s eyes widened at the double meaning before she blushed and laughed. “Okay, that was clever. And… true.” She lifted her glass again, but paused. “You were great, Jasper,” she said softly. “I don’t remember ever being with someone I felt so at ease with.” Jasper raised his eyebrows. “Bad experiences?” Melissa shook her head. “No. Not bad. Just… not enough. My last partner didn’t take my night issues well.” She rolled the glass between her palms. “I wasn’t wearing protection then, but he knew about it. Said it was endearing. Said he didn’t mind.” Jasper listened, jaw tightening just a little. “But eventually, he lost patience,” Melissa continued. “He never said it outright, but I saw it. The frustration. The discomfort. The… contempt.” She exhaled slowly. “Then I found out he was seeing someone else.” “That sounds awful,” Jasper said. “But the cheating? That’s on him. Not on anything you were dealing with.” Melissa shrugged like she had practiced it in the mirror. “It is what it is. Understandable in a way.” “No,” Jasper said firmly. “What’s understandable is that cheaters project their guilt. They turn impatience and contempt onto the person they’re betraying. It’s universal.” Melissa blinked, absorbing that. “I… never thought of it from that direction.” “He didn’t lose patience because of your issue,” Jasper said. “He lost patience because he was already halfway out the door.” Melissa bit her lip. “Maybe.” “Not maybe,” he said, softer this time. “Melissa, someone who cares stays present. And they help you figure things out. They don’t punish you for something you can’t control.” She stared at him for a moment, eyes glistening. “That means more than you know.” Jasper smiled gently, lifting his glass. “To many shared nights. Whatever they end up being.” Melissa laughed through the emotion, wiping a small tear with her thumb. “Thank you, Jasper.” She raised her glass slowly and clinked it against his. Then she smiled — really smiled — bright and open and hopeful. And Jasper thought maybe he’d never seen anything lovelier. - After the toast, it was almost inevitable that the rest of the day would pull them closer. And it did — quietly, naturally, like two people settling into a rhythm neither had expected but both welcomed. “I need to pee real bad,” Melissa admitted as they stood. Jasper snorted. “I’m guessing the bathroom’s the better option for that.” His eyes sparkled. “And I’ve gotta go too. Small bladder.” She rolled her eyes, amused, and they split off — shyly, like teenagers on a first date — weaving toward their respective restrooms. When they met again outside, Jasper was drying his hands on his jeans. Melissa arched an eyebrow. “There are dryers in the bathroom, you know.” “In yours,” Jasper said. “The men’s room was basically a highway rest stop.” Melissa laughed. “Fair.” They slipped into step automatically, hands brushing before linking together without ceremony. Jasper glanced down at Melissa’s smaller hand in his — cool from the sink, soft, fitting neatly in his palm — and felt that small surge of affection he was getting used to. They wandered where their curiosity pulled them, ducking into a shop that sold everything from repurposed furniture to quirky T-shirts to oversized coffee-table books. It smelled like cedar, old paper, and possibility. Jasper headed straight for the shelf of interior design books. “Architecture?” Melissa asked. Jasper winced. “My older sisters infected me at an early age. They redecorated my bedroom three times before I turned sixteen.” “So you come by it honestly.” “Traumatically,” he corrected. Melissa snorted, turning to a row of travel journals. “I’m more into literary travel. And gardens. I’d love one someday, but I’m realistic. My apartment suits me. Less maintenance, fewer plants begging for help.” Jasper flipped through a book on Scandinavian interiors. “Ever written anything from your trips?” “Some,” Melissa said, cheeks warming slightly. “Italy and Spain. Off the tourist routes. Quiet towns with too many old stones and not enough people. Makes me want to write.” “I’ve only done the obvious Europe stuff,” Jasper said. “Paris. Florence. Rome.” Melissa shrugged. “The obvious stuff is still lovely.” They traded stories — the good food, the confusing train systems, the sketchy but charming Airbnb Jasper once regretted, Melissa’s near-miss with a ferry departure in Sardinia. Eventually, the need for another bathroom break guided them into a small café on the corner. They handled their business first — priorities — then reconvened at the counter. “Okay, this coffee smells amazing,” Melissa said, half suspicious. Jasper took his first sip and blinked. “Wow. This is absurd. Why is this better than half the cafés in Atlanta?” Melissa nodded as she tasted hers. “This is black magic.” “No,” Jasper said seriously. “This is dangerous. I may develop loyalty issues.” Melissa grinned. “Should we move in here?” “I’m honestly considering it.” They leaned on the tall counter facing the street, sipping slowly, letting the warmth settle into their bones. And something in the quiet between them felt solid. Comfortable. Easy.  Like two lives beginning to overlap in all the right places. - The café wasn’t crowded, but it had just enough noise to hide how quiet Jasper and Melissa had gone. They stood side by side at the tall counter facing the street, sipping their coffees, watching people drift past the window. Melissa wasn’t watching the people. Not really. Her shoulder brushed Jasper’s arm every time she shifted her weight. Sometimes lightly. Sometimes just long enough to make him glance down at her. And each time, she pretended to focus on her coffee — but the spark behind her eyes gave her away. He took another sip, and Melissa’s gaze lingered on his mouth a beat too long. Jasper noticed. He set his cup down. She did the same. Their fingers brushed. Once. Again. Then stayed touching. “Melissa…” Jasper murmured. “Mhm?” She didn’t look up at him. She didn’t need to. The whole air around her was a confession. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” She shifted closer — half an inch, maybe less — but he felt it like a pull. A gravity. “That depends,” she said softly. “How honest do you want me to be?” Jasper swallowed. “Try me.” Her eyes flicked up finally, meeting his. Warm. Bright. Intense. And then they dropped to his mouth again, unashamed. “That’s what’s going on,” she whispered. He didn’t respond at first — only exhaled, a slow controlled breath, like he was trying not to close the distance between them right there in the café. Melissa looked down at their touching hands. “We’re going home after this, right?” “Yeah,” Jasper said, voice low and rough around the edges. “We’re going home. But I will need some supplies from the pharmacy.”  His knowing look was a turn-on. “Good,” she whispered. She tried to step away for a second — to break the tension, reset, pretend she was fine — but Jasper gently caught her hand before she could move far. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?” She nodded, though her breath wasn’t steady. “Just… trying not to jump you in a coffee shop.” Jasper laughed quietly, running his thumb along her knuckles. “Yeah. Same problem.” Melissa’s eyes fluttered shut for half a second at the touch, her composure wobbling. Then she opened them again, clearer now. Determined. “Let’s finish the coffee,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Walk around a bit. Be normal people.” Jasper nodded. “Okay.” “But Jasper?” she added, barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” “You should drive faster on the way home.” He looked at her like she had just punched the air out of him. “Melissa…” He fought back a smile. “You’re going to kill me.” She squeezed his fingers. “You love it.” And they stood there—two people trying very hard to behave in public, both fully aware that the moment they crossed the threshold of home, restraint would not be the dominant force anymore.

I don't think my meatus would fit 8 mm, but I suppose if I angled it just right I could get it to fit. Good to know, thanks. My line is attached to the distal end with multiple knots. I made sure urine flow was still possible after the fact. The important thing I wanted was to not have a loose line to come out from the stent. It can take a few tries, but I can pull it out consistently which is what I want (and need). The folds I use are inverted into the inside, like @cathdiap's design. I just use forceps to fold them in and then I stretch them to make sure the interior fold is uniform with the rest of the silicone body. Sometimes it takes a bit of work, but I won't put the stent in until I'm sure that it's uniform and fitting. Feel free to ask more questions.

🙂 Thanks! 😈 Thanks for the comments! 🙂

In the Kingdom of Kutopia sat many villages, towns, with two cities, one in the North and Centre, with a bustling seaside town in the south with a great promise of growth that could eventually see it turn into a third city for the Kingdom. Kutopia was rich in resources and trouble, the Kingdom suffered from rouge Magnumancers searching for treasure and power, forming political groups, or guilds to take power from the higher ups and Royals in the Kingdom which led to the creation of various departments throughout the region, with many seeking the approval of the Royal family in their region or others, there were small nobility with connections to the Royals, and those who seeked fame and fortune, who try their best to gain such a thing through hard work, and even tournaments, to gain the Royal Star. A Certified Royal Star could only be given to those from the main royal family, with smaller Nobels only able to offer introductions and recommendations at best. In the town of Tarraville lived Astrid, a Cogmancer, a woman without magic, and seen as lesser because of it, which had led to countless misfortune, and strife, through the Magnumancers attutides and thoughts towards her, and other Cogmancers.   A Cogmancer was rare, and only ten to twenty percent of the worlds population had the risk of being one.  Everyone was treated equal up to a point, that point being fourteen, when it was expected for the truth and esscene of magic to flow through one's body to become a Magnumancer, who would then go on to achieve great things.  It had been hell for her, but she had survived somehow, she wasn't sure how but she had, and at thirty five years old she had a stable enough job to live, if one could call it living.  Astrid was a solo investigator within the Control Department, she didn't have a team nor did she want to join any of them within the department, not that anyone would want a Cogmancer. It was even considered a joke to an extent by some of the Magnumancers.   All Cogmancers that went to work in any department created by Magnumancers, and Royals, often died in the first few years through lack of magic, and the great extent of injuries they would suffer, it was common, and had been for a long time because Magnumancers didn't see the point of working with Cogmancer's, and left the less the desired assingments to them while they took the more high profile better paid assignments, that were often easier, mostly, except when they had to deal with a Magnumanic Monster. Astrid prefered it that way, truthfully, she rather work solo after everything that had happened throughout her youth, and the loss of her village to petty wars, she had been with the department of Control in Tarraville for fifteen years now, and worked from a small room in the basement of the building, avoiding co-workers as much as possible, but there was one place she couldn't escape them and the society around her, and that was at the 'Ball' that was hosted, where everyone from any royal issue department had to attend even her, a Cogmancer. So Astrid found herself awkwardly leaning against a wall wearing her best but still worn torn clothing that made her look like a peasent amongst the highly decorative classes, and her co-workers in Control, who had the money to afford high street brands and clothing, made with fine and rich material, yet even they looked poor against some of the other departments that had attended from within the town, and then there were those who seemed way above even the minor nobility that were attending right now. Astrid felt the need to hide but knew she had to wait before she could run and leave the big event.  Black boots, scruffed, smart black jeans, and a button up white shirt, with a simple black waist coat, and simple black jacket, that helped her blend in the background, her hair was in need of shampoo, but she had done her best to wash it for the night with what she had given the little pay she got. Food sat on the tables as many Magnumancers ate, happily, and drank, but she didn't, she knew she could but she was also aware enough that most didn't like the idea of Cogmancer's at this event and joining them to eat unless they had submitted themselves as a Pet, then that would be different, very different. .... Kaiser was from another Kingdom far into the North, and ruled by his Grandmother, one of the Vampire Queen's of old.  He was very young for his kind, at 36, and had extentsive knowledge of the world, and espescially the Kingdom of Kutopia, which had given his kind trouble for quite some while but things had seemingly settled down over the past five years as relations approved which is why he was here at Tarraville attending a ball. He was a Magnumancer, thankfully, but even if he wasn't, his own kind wouldn't see him as less as them, he would of been seen differently, and in great need of protection but he wouldn't be seen and treated like the Cogmancers in Kutopia, he would at least recieve kindness, and love, and be offered positions suited to his limited ability.  He was also highly aware that he was one of the few at the ball with a Pet. He was aware that Pet's were seen as status symbols, and those with one were granted special privllages, and all Magnumancers craved to have one because it meant a chance of gaining access to Royals, parties, invites, better jobs, and yet, there were very few Cogmancer's willing to give up and be such a thing, espescially to those in the Kutopia Kingdom.  He had his pet diapered, padded securely as it was common, and he like other Magnumancer saw it as cute, sweet and where Cogmancers should be, tied to to a Magnumancer and safe, at least that's how Monster Magnumancer's saw it.  He wasn't entirely sure how those from Kutopia enitrely saw Pets. He didn't degrade but he did show off, he had dressed Julia lovingly in a white and pale blue frock, with frills and lace, that most could only dream of, that was soft to touch and showed her clearly padded state yet he didn't see her as less, and held her hand in his hand, tightly, protective, he treated her like a Princess, truthfully, and probably spoiled her more then he should but he saw it as his role to provide, and spoil, he was aware that other Magnumancers that had Pets thought similar which did raise an amusing but concerning issue from Magnumancers not from royal backgrounds who had a hard or even impossible time getting a Cogmancer to become a Pet, because truthfully Cogmancer's in this one small instant did have some power in choosing if or not they wanted to be, and to whom, which obviously meant that those from the higher classes and royals needed them as Pets which led to a high level of comfort for Cogmancers, and even a better lifestyle then a lot of Magnumancers, given that Magnumancers weren't nor would ever be accepted as Pet's by other Magnumancers unless they decide to go to a demon, and give away all their magical power and ability, which was extremely rare, but there had been a few cases, yet ironically they would then be seen as lesser then Cogmancers. Kaiser had a royal suit, decorative on, gold, red and blue, and his long silver like hair was tied back in a ponytail.  He looked at the party with great disintrest, and then smiled but only when looking at Julie, "Are you hungry, my dear?" he asked, "I've heard that Tarraville is one of the few towns around that can rival the captial in how good their food is?" he continued while glancing around the room only to feel his stomach drop, "Well it seems you aren't the only Cog around here, Julie," he said, quietly, taking note of Astrid, and holding Julie's hand tighter, and then looking at her a bit more sternly, "I know that it's been hammered into you because of what you are, but if you are hungry, please eat, you are mine and Magnumancers can't complain when a Pet eats with them." he added, "I am a royal, remember." he smirked, knowing that any complaints would be seen as disrespectful, he was also aware that in theory he could invite Cogmancers that weren't Pets to join them, and to eat too, and that a Royal request couldn't be turned down easily nor could a request by a Royal Star could be turned, and that Magnumancers would end up looking bad for making a fuss against anyone of royal blood, or of high rank, "Cousin, are you feeling okay?" he asked looking at Matthew.  

So so good. Thank you for being you too. Merry Christmas DDE! Crinkle crinkle!