Oh shit shit shite shit! And shit again.I always have to be clever don’t I/ I have these bloody wonderful blopdy ideasd that are so blopdy clever…@
Until I actually7 try them out that is…<
Oh bollocks bnollocks and double hollocks.
What’s really pissing me off ast the moment is that I don’t even know wether what I’m writing is coming out or not . for all I know I could be tryp oops typing that’st better.I think. What was I saying oh yes I cann feel the keys and I thinlk my fingers are in the right place b7t for all I know I could bne typing complete gibbertish!
I made a fguck up there I could feel it. Good job I was trained to touch
type at school wisn’ t it/ Apostrophes are a bit tricky though, Why, qwhy
? because I,m bloody bvlindfolded that;s why! Oh I must get this thuing
off! Nmow if bend my head forward and rub it against the monitor
I might juyst ve able to pyush it upand on to mty forehead just a
Well that’s better, at least I can see again. Mind you, I think I took part of my nose off in the process and I think it’s bleeding as well. Oh it is! Oh shit .Oh I hope it doesn’t run. I’ve got one of his white shirts on and I’ll look like a road accident. Ah. Oh. I can feel it running down to the tip. I don’t think it’s a lot but I’ve taken the skin off near the… what do they call it? The bridge. That’s it, the bridge. Well in this case I think it’s going to be A Bridge Too Far for you Sheila old girl ‘cos you have seriously fucked up this time.
Okay here’s the deal. I don’t know who I’m talking to. For the sake of argument I’m going to call you Colin…Colin Computer, okay? Well it’s all the same if it’s not because I need someone to talk, or rather write to, at the moment, and you’re it!
Now Colin, I’m not going to go into a lot of biographical detail ‘cos you know all about me and my little friend Bill, who is not currently here, which is why I have tied myself up and which is why I am in this shit!
But you know all that Colin, because you sit here in my bedroom and you see everything that goes on and you know that I like tying myself up and you also know that I don’t have to do it any more because my neighbour… who is a very nice man by the way… well he might read this sometime…
He might well come in when I have been reduced to no more than a skellington and find this note typed on you, Colin, my trusty electronic friend, and think more kindly of me if, in the last thing I ever did before shuffling of this mortal coil, I was actually nice to him for once. HAH… fat chance mate!
I seem to be using the word mate a lot recently. Perhaps it’s because I want to. Mate that is. My hormones have been a bit untrustworthy of late and that’s another reason I’m worried.
Oh and my knickers are wet as well.
I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have to sit in wet knickers Colin. You may be a computer of the world, you may well be a Transgendered Computer for all I know, but let me tell you that it’s not over comfy. Especially when you’re TIED TO A BLOODY CHAIR!
Sorry Colin, I didn’t mean to shout then. Well, shout in the metaphorical sense because I can’t actually shout at the moment because I’ve got this fucking great leather gag in my mouth which is also holding down my tongue which is in turn preventing me from doing any shouting or any mumbling or in fact any talking at all! And what’s worse Colin, is that I BLOODY PUT IT THERE!
All right. I just took a couple of minutes off then to calm down a bit, do my meditation exercises and think of nice calming things like rainforests and parrots and soft pink pussies, oops sorry, I meant to say kittens or something. That’s a Freudian slip if ever there was one.
Wish I had one on at the moment actually, a slip that is; all I HAVE got on is his bloody shirt because it’s big and comfortable and it smells of him. It’s a clean one but it’s still got him on it - hormones again. Oh and a little pair of black knickers. I’ve tied the shirt off at the front in a big knot like women do in films and even if I do say so myself, I think I look raaather sexy in it.
You know Colin I think that if just took my hands away from the keyboard and then pushed back a bit, I might just be able to get said hands, which as you can see are handcuffed at this moment in time, down and away from the desk and then under it a little so that I could reach my groin area and the aforesaid wet knickers and give them a little rub. Just a little rub you understand Colin.
Actually I think that’s a rather good idea of mine because the aforesaid hands are starting to go just a little numb and it might feel as if someone else is doing it, which is always interesting.
Don’t go away Colin – I’ll be back. Well not that I’m actually going anywhere because as you can see I have tied myself very tightly to this chair, so tightly in fact that I am unable to get out of it. Just a minute….
Well that was a waste of time!
I didn’t mention the chain did I? … Dear God it’s difficult typing in handcuffs… Where was I? Oh yes the chain, the chain, the clever bloody chain. The one that runs from the dog collar round my neck, yes Colin I’ve got a dog collar and no, as you know, we do NOT have a dog. We DO have two cats, one by me and one by him. (If you see what I mean.)
Where other people have children by various marriages or non-marriages or whatever, we have cats. And I have adopted his cat in a short informal ceremony and he, in turn, has adopted mine. So cats we have aplenty but of dogs we have none.
But we, or more to the point, I. DO have a dog collar. A dog collar I might add, which I used to wear quite often, but which I don’t use any more because he doesn’t like me to put anything round my neck in case I strangle myself.
Although I do suspect Colin that there are times when he would quite like to perform that particular task for me!
I went off again there didn’t I? Right, the chain. Yes, the chain is connected to the dog collar at one end and the handcuffs at the other and it was snagged on something earlier on which is why I nearly denosed myself on the monitor getting the blindfold off. Guess what?
Yes Colin, you guessed right!
You may have a cigar.
If you smoke that is and I don’t know that you do and it’s probably very Non-PC of me to even bring up the subject. I know you have a tendency to make odd little noises during the night, but then so do, so I don’t suppose I can complain there!
Anyway, the chain… Yes I was all psyched up there… thought I was going to have a little release.. All aquiver I was….You can work out exactly where and what was quivering for yourself Colin.
So I got hands away from keyboard, pushed self back in chair, got hands under desk, inched hands towards knickers and in direction of moist, pulsating little puss which was quite definitely looking forward to having a little digital manipulation and. …
Well of course the chain was too fucking short Colin! Even when I lowered my head as far as it would go. So I pulled a bit. Head bent in prayer position, hands cuffed in similar. Pulled hands down a bit, head followed. Pulled hands a bit more, fingers near waistband of expensive Fredericks of Hollywood knickers. Goal in sight. Lips twitching, clit getting ready to say Hello Boys to inquisitive little fingers. One last pull…Fingers reach knickers, thumbs try to grasp waistband. One final tug at chain, rope around shoulders loosens a bit, fingers rejoice at sudden (limited) freedom of torso. Completely forget about desk! Clitty pulsates at thought of a quick rub. Desk doesn’t do anything because it is inanimate object. Head moves suddenly forward.
Head hits desk with considerable force!
Do you know Colin, that I saw colours that I think people only normally see when they have been taking something illegal! Of course I tried to swear but I couldn’t because I had so very thoughtfully gagged myself beforehand. (Good job I didn’t use the penis gag or I might have found out what Deep Throat really means).
I mean I could see the thing coming towards me, but so intent was I in getting my itchy little fingers into my itchy little sexual area that I didn’t realize it until it was too late.
Is it all right to play with yourself with concussion? Assuming I could that is!
Okay, so not only am I still tied up, but I’ve also got a bloody nose and what will probably turn into a big purple bruise on my forehead and if, and when, I get out of this and if we ever go out together again, people will look at us in the street and see this big burly bloke and this petite gorgeous brunette and think “He beats her up!” Well I’ve got news for you Colin – he doesn’t have to - I can do that quite well on my own, thank you very much!
I really could do with a cigarette right now.
With that in my hands I would probably have the extra couple of inches I need to stroke my clit!
So you get the picture Colin. I’m naked apart from his shirt and my Fredericks high cut knickers, which are the genuine article for once and are sooo soft and sooo sexy and I am so wet that it hurts…come back, come back… yes, yes, and my feet with the bright red toenails are tied together and pulled off the floor by a rope around my ankles, which in turn is tied to the back of the chair and, oh yes, my big toes are toe cuffed together as well – wheeeee!
Then Colin, I am tied to the chair at the waist and above and below the breasts. Come now Colin, think breasts. Not TITS but breasts that’s a good boy!
Not only that, but I also have two diagonal ropes which criss cross my body at intervals and are knotted at pressure points like my naval and my breastbone. They then go over my shoulders and are wound round and round the rungs of the chair back like two little cotton spiral staircases until they reach the original knots, where, clever girl that I am, I was able to cinch and then knot the whole caboodle together. Good eh?
Oh but Colin that wasn’t good enough for me! So what did I do? I’ll tell you what I did Colin. Not content with all that, the toe cuffs and the trainee Japanese Shibari bondage and all, I decided to do something else, 'cos all that wasn’t good enough for clever old me. No, not at all. So do you know what I did Colin, or shall I tell you?
Yes, I’ll tell you Colin, because you may not be able to see too well through my/his shirt although most men seem to think that they can when they ogle you (or wish). Well keep wishing Buthter because it ain’t going to happen.
Any way what did I do? I decided to tie my tits up that’s what I bloody did!
Now they’re not very big but they’re very nice, pretty little titties. Well I think so and he doesn’t complain – not that he would dare – but that’s not the point. So I wrapped rope around and around and around them and now I’ve got something that resembles two bloody hot dog sausages with big over ripe cherries on the ends sticking out from my chest and looking very dark and brooding also aching like shit (If it is at all possible for shit to ache).
I once saw some mushrooms that were called Shitake mushrooms in my local Tesco. I wonder if that’s what happens after you’ve eaten them…you know, they make your… Shitake…? All right, all right, Colin I DO know that it’s actually pronounced Shitarkay. Nobody loves a smart ass. Especially an electronic one!
Am I becoming delirious? Must be that blow on the head!
Oh he’s going to have the arsehole when he comes in!
Or rather he won’t. That’s part of the problem. He’ll come in and he’ll go into the kitchen were the cats are, 'cos I keep them in there when I’m playing, because I have enough trouble keeping one pussy in order without having another two wandering around the bedroom rubbing up against me and pawing things that they shouldn’t be pawing. Besides they’re not old enough to see this sort of thing. I mean Bruce is four and Geri is only three.
Well yes Colin, I DO realize that in human terms they are 28 and 21 respectively but to be totally honest, if I were the Prime Minister of this country I would pass a law stating that no one should have sex with anyone else until they are at least 30! That way there would be a lot less bloody suffering in this world I can tell you.
sex with yourself would be all right. God knows there are enough wankers
around already …A few more wouldn’t make any difference!
So he’s going to play with the cats a bit and probably feed them and then he’s going to come looking for me, ‘Cos by now he will have guessed what I’m up to and he’s going to walk in here and he’s going to see me tied to the chair in front of the computer, well, You in fact, with my feet up in the air behind me and my leather gag and my sausage tits and my hands chained to my dog collar and the rope…ah …I didn’t tell you about the rope, did I Colin?
I was feeling sort of patriotic and I wanted a bit of variety so I used different colours for effect. Blue around my ankles. Oh I did my calves and thighs as well by the way. Red for the criss crossing around my body and white for the ropes round my waist, chest and tits because I thought it would make a nice contrast!
Oh it makes a contrast all right! Have you ever seen MAUVE tits before Colin?
No, neither had I, until today.
And they ache! Oh boy do they ache! And they throb. They throb like, like... like something that throbs Colin. You know like a huge glistening nine inch fully erect penis….sorry, sorry, got carried away again …And the nipples. Oh my nipples.
If I were a cartoon character, and sometimes I think I just might be, my nipples would have dropped down on little hinges and great blasts of hot steam would be coming out of them by now!
I always seem to be talking about my nipples if what HE writes about me is to be believed of course and I would advise you very strongly not to Colin. Believe him that is. He is, after all, a man and they lie often enough and readily enough to make a politician blush.
That’s probably because I always have to do something to them! (My nipples that is, not politicians.) Like putting clamps or clips on them or tying them up or something. (If you ARE a politician then you can probably get that done for you anyway). You know Colin; if I were a psychiatrist, I’d probably say that deep down in my subconscious I really don’t like my tits at all! Which is why I do these horrible things to them…yeah!
Truth is, if there is a truth that is, my tits, whoops breasts, are very sensitive.
Like most women!
Remember that Colin. If ever you meet a lady computer on the Internet. Let that be something that forever stays inside your 64 megabytes of RAM.
WOMEN HAVE SENSITIVE BREASTS.
Particularly at certain times of the month!
If you aren’t familiar with that concept yet I will explain it to you on another occasion.
What this means Colin, is that we like to have them lovingly stroked and kissed. We like them in short, to be treated the way WE want to be treated by and large, Colin. As something warm and precious to be handled with courtesy and respect, to be pampered and loved and caressed. (No, not fondled Colin, we New Women do not respond well to fondling).
What we do, by and large, respond well to Colin is simply this; Warmth and Tenderness. Well I may well be oversimplifying things here but those two certainly help.
What we DO Not respond very well to is a big pair of dirty hands having a quick grope and a pull, I think I could happily heave a fondle in there as well, accompanied by the smell of beery breath and all manner of rumbles and belches and farts as a precursor to having a particularly small, smelly, cheesy and normally unprepossessing looking penis stuffed up you for an extremely short, sharp and particularly unsatisfying shag after a night up the poxy pub!
Heed that Colin! Heed that well if and when you meet Molly Microsoft, or Doreen Dell or Hermione Hewlett-Packard and you feel tempted to pop out to the cyber pub…Oh oh ouch ouch ouch…oh shit oh oh I was trying to swing my legs a bit then and I stubbed my fucxkxing toe on the chair…. don’t go away Colin…
Oh! I tried to rest my head on the desk because there were tears in my eyes and my little toesies hurt and I closed my eyes to blot out the pain, miscalculated and hit my already bruised forehead on the keyboard. I’ve probably got qwertyuiop tattooed for life on there now.
And you know what it’s like when you hurt something. Everything else starts playing up as well. So now my nose is hurting and my head is killing me and my sausages are throbbing. Colin I’m just going to stop and have a little cry don’t go away.
Right that’s better. Let’s recap shall we?
Okay I’m sitting here in front of you Colin, because I have tied and gagged myself because I wanted a little rest and relaxation before my best buddy Bill came home from work. Oh and incidentally he is not the big handed, beer swilling, dirty, unwashed penis type I was telling you about earlier…he has got big hands though!
See this is where things started going wrong.
I’m at home Colin because I was having a new bed delivered. Well you can see it there can’t you? Oh and what a bed it is! Isn’t it a lovely bed Colin? A Four Poster. Modern design, elegant velvet drapes. Saw it in Heals; fell in love with it, bought it. Due to be delivered today. They couldn’t give a time so I took the day off.
I spent weeks planning this. He doesn’t know about the bed. I planned it all like a military operation. Bought red satin sheets…bugger I’ve got an itchy puss. Oh that’s bloody marvelous that is, ooh right on my left lip. SHIT!
I’ve already tried to get down there once with hilarious consequences. Oh I’ll just have to ignore it and hope it’ll go away. I’m trying to bounce up and down on the chair but all that’s doing is making my head ache and my titties jiggle. Oooh that feels quite weird, I think I’ll do it again… and again! Oh dear now I’ve got another itch in my puss but it’s for a different reason.
Ignore it; ignore it! I’ve stopped jiggling now. Look at the bed Colin. All made up with the red satin sheets and I’ve bought some of those fancy black candle holders that you get in the posh shops…that’s why I’ve got the shirt and knickers on ‘cos I wanted to seduce him and I wanted to get in the mood for lurve!
I batted my eyelids seductively then, don’t know if you noticed, difficult to do when you’re tied up and suffering from concussion and a wet pussy! If you’ve got concussion you see double don’t you? Yeah just my luck! I’d probably see two pussies and play with the wrong bloody one!
I have got this FABULOUS black satin peignoir – nightdress to you Colin. It cost a bloody fortune – it’s Fredericks as well, if you must know, but of slightly dubious provenance, you should see how much the real thing costs mate!
When he came home tonight Colin, the flat would have been in darkness apart from the warm glow of my candles, as opposed to the warm glow of my nipples that he will actually see when he gets here. The bedroom door would have been closed and when he opened it he would have found…ME!
Little old Me. Draped languorously across my new metal and somewhat Hi - Tech looking four-poster. Bathed in warm candlelight, lying seductively on my red satin sheets and wearing nothing except my black peignoir and a little Jean Paul Gaultier behind the ears. That’s the perfume not a REAL Little Jean Paul Gaultier…I’m probably dehydrated by now as well.
But I had to go and spoil it didn’t I?
The bed had come earlier than I expected and as I hadn’t, I thought I might redress the balance by well, you know. Well you do bloody know ‘cos you can see the results! And instead of coming home to a Sultry Seductress he’s going to walk in on Ronald bloody Macdonald with the smudged make up and the sore head and the bloody nose and tits like sausages!
Sparrows like breadcrumbs.
I drifted again there, sorry.
But he won’t be mad at me. Well he will in a way ‘cos he worries about me. That’s sweet isn’t it? Isn’t it? Well of course it is and he’s devised all these little failsafe options for me if I do go off the straight and narrow. For example; there’s a phone by the bed with enormous great keys. It’s on the desk here now actually. I can phone his flat, hands free, by just pressing 1 on the keypad with my nose, or anything else that might be handy at the time. If I don’t answer when he picks up then he knows I’m in the shit!
DO I swear a lot Colin? He says I do. He says I do it when I get stressed. Well that’s surely the whole bloody point of bloody swearing isn’t it?
Push number 2 and I get his mobile, which is always switched on for obvious reasons and if I push 3 I get my best friend Linda’s mobile. Linda. Well I’m not sure that you’re old enough to know about Linda yet Colin. I mean I’ve only had you six months
Not had in the biblical sense of course. I’m not sure how you’d fuck a computer! Oh, hit it with a hammer… it’d be fucked then wouldn’t it? Oh I’m so funny I could cry. They did it in Demon Seed though didn’t they? You know that really weird film where the computer takes over the house and kills people ‘cos he wants Julie Christie to have his Cyber Baby and at one point the computer ties her hand and foot to her bed in just her shirt….
Hmm, I might need to have a little think about that one…
Oh what was it called, not the baby, the computer, Proteus that’s it. Proteus. They used Robert Vaughan’s voice. All soft and quiet and sinister. Oh that man. That man makes me all itchy! Especially when he was Napoleon Solo in the Man from Uncle. So good looking, so refined, (isn’t that part of a song?) so smooth, so well dressed, and yet you always suspected that lurking behind that polished façade was…a Bastard. A right Bastard! But a very smooth, suave Bastard none the less and yes I did have a bit of a crush, used to watch the re runs on BBC 2.
Don’t get me wrong Colin; I’m not one of those people who are into Bastards, though I have met a few in my time. Oh no no no Colin, I’m more than happy with ugly old, boring old Bill. Happier than I’ve ever been in fact. Another problem there as it happens…anyway, Proteus, Proteus, what a bloody name! Why couldn’t they have called it something more every day? Like… well Colin!
Now don’t go getting any ideas here Colin or you are going to be on the first house clearance van out of here!
Someone told me I looked like Julie Christie once. Mind you it was along time ago and we were both drunk and he was trying to get into my pants, which is a pretty bad combination. He didn’t. Get in my pants that is. I’m not so stupid as to fall for some hoary old chat up line like that! I think I was violently sick just after he said it actually.
Probably just as well!
Linda. Yes, Linda. You see Colin; she’s a professional mistress. No, no, Colin. She’s not a prostitute and don’t ever tell her that, or you will be one dead pile of microchips. We need to get this straight. My friend Linda is a professional mistress who BEATS people in exchange for money as opposed to a prostitute who has SEX with people in exchange for money.
Linda, let me be very clear on this, does not DO sex! Well not with her clients anyway. Linda tends to prefer women, well not this women, but other women. Which I happen to think is a good idea because when she does hook up with men they always seem to be the wrong ones.
So let that be a lesson to you Colin, even Mistresses make mistakes.
So anyway if I have a little accident both my best friends are on hand to help me. They never actually say anything but I’m sure they think that I’m a little wrong in the head sometimes. Huh! He who’s writing a story about my little foibles and who didn’t have sex for ten years. Ten years! I could have drowned the first time we did it…!
And she who beats people for a living!
It’s a good job they don’t have PA – Perverts Anonymous or they’d be packing me off to it at the first opportunity, for my own good that is.... “Hello my name is Sheila and I am a Pervert….”
All because I like to tie myself up sometimes……….
Problem is there are two Sheilas; Sensible Sheila and, well, Adventurous Sheila. Sensible Sheila sits on one shoulder wearing sensible shoes and a knee length skirt and a jacket from Marks and Spencer and Adventurous Sheila wears fishnet tights; patent leather ankle boots with 5-inch heels and a shiny black leather leotard and probably sits on the other shoulder playing with herself! And these two Sheilas are engaged in a constant fight for my attention.
Guess who won today?
of the time it’s a battle Colin, not between good and evil because I’m
not like that, well only with people who piss me off. But between sitting
around on my fat arse watching television or reading the paper or KNITTING
In other words doing something just because there is nothing MORE interesting to do, OR DOING SOMETHING REALLY INTERESTING, which in my case just happens to be tying myself up, and I like it, so there! Yah BOO Sucks To You!
Okay, so Adventurous Sheila got the better of Sensible Sheila today – she’s probably got her tied up and gagged somewhere. Oh, the thought of me in the fishnets and the boots tied and gagged just made me shiver and I’m still wet so….
See Colin, you probably find it surprising that I can still get horny after what I’ve been through this afternoon, you know broken nose, fractured skull, mashed tits, but I DO Colin. That’s the problem. Being tied up does that to me. It makes me horny and sexy and I feel glamorous (Well maybe not right now) and helpless and shivery. Especially when He’s here.
Oh don’t ask me why Colin, he’s not exactly Bruce or even Brandon lee, (more like Christopher Lee actually and about the same age) no, no, that’s not true. He’s just so, so, straight and well nice! (Well, when I say straight, as far as perving goes he’s as bad as me except that he prefers to tie me up rather than himself).
God! The very thought of him trying to tie himself up is frightening. He’d dislocate every dislocatable bone in his body AND a few others AND have a hernia in the first five minutes…
See in him, Colin, I’ve found a like-minded being - a soul mate if you like. He likes what I like and he understands what I like and I can talk openly to him about it and he doesn’t keep saying “what” and look puzzled and he doesn’t make any judgments about it and I don’t feel guilty or embarrassed about things that I like or do, well maybe today, maybe later on, maybe just a little.
That’s assuming he ever arrives of course.
That’s assuming he hasn’t had a heart attack or been run down by a bus or something, (I hope he’s got clean underwear on!)
Still there’s always Linda. Yeah but what if Linda suddenly decides to take off for a week and switches off her mobile…or gives a client a particularly hard beating or has one die on her and gets arrested or something…Where does that leave me?
TIED TO A CHAIR WITH SAUSAGE TITS AND TWO, NO, THREE LOCKED UP PUSSIES. THAT ‘S WHERE IT BLOODY LEAVES ME!
Okay okay. Plan B! Plan B! Problem is I don’t really want to go to plan B – I’ll explain that in a minute. You see the simple truth is Colin that I shouldn’t really be in this predicament at all because HE has provided me with a veritable armamentarium of tools with which I SHOULD be able to free myself if and when the need arises!
He actually bought me a rather snazzy little electric blue, easy open toolbox in which are all manner of weird and wonderful tools with which to cut myself out of trouble. Safety knives, blunt ended scissors, pliers, hacksaws, neatly numbered sets of spare handcuff keys, padlock keys thumb cuff, toe cuff and spreader bar keys, wire cutters, smelling salts, antiseptics, you name it, it’s in there. (There’s even a little tube of KY jelly)…FOR EASING RECALCITRANT LOCKS IF YOU MUST KNOW COLIN! God what a dirty minded computer you are turning out to be, I really must have a word with Mr. Gates about you!
And since you ask Colin, no we do NOT have sex when I am tied up, well not very often anyway. Well HE doesn’t. Sometimes I DO! Sometimes spontaneously Colin, without any outside influences at all, apart from the ropes and stuff that is and sometimes he provides, well let’s just say that sometimes he provides a helping hand!
As far as lovemaking goes, yes Colin we prefer to call it lovemaking. I’m sorry if you find that prudish of us, but as far as lovemaking goes, he prefers me untied and I must admit I do now agree with him. It’s alright for you who doesn’t have arms and legs but you would not believe what sort of tangle you can get into when bits of you are tied up and your partner and lover is trying to insert a portion of himself into the bit of you that is, hopefully, not tied up too much and then you both start giggling! (Giggling through a gag can have its perils believe me)
On one occasion, early on, when my arse was sticking high up in the air and for reasons best known to ourselves, he attempted said insertion, at my somewhat muffled request, but unfortunately managed to slip a little upon entry and nearly inserted suitably condomed instrument into my rear entrance which is not now and never has been open to visitors…we stopped trying soon after that.
© Wallace 2001. This work remains the property of the author. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. The characters and events depicted bear no resemblance to any real life incidents or to any persons living or dead. No reposting or copying is allowed without prior permission.