A/N: After a couple of friendly and less friendly pokes I have managed to make a start with my long overdue Glut of Smut 2010 entry. Many thanks to Bugsie for handling some of the bad boys in this one.

This was my prompt:

"The night after the bazaar where Rhett brings a drunken Gerald to Aunt Pitty's and Scarlett greets him in her wrapper." (scenario submitted by isolabella)

Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 1

Gently, he brushed her hair to the side and without hesitation he opened the top button at the back of her nightgown. For a moment he regretted the fact that he could not read what was in her expressive green eyes but just as quickly he valued the advantage he had over her now. While he slowly but surely made his way down - the stream of tiny silk-white buttons seemed endless – he further mused on the fact that earlier that night a pair of much purer hands, servant hands, must have undertaken the task of closing the same long row. His own hands were steady; one would believe that this was daily business for him. In a way it was, but that was not to say that he was not affected by the woman in front of him. More profoundly than by any woman before her.

He remembered when he first saw her tonight in that gown. In his lifetime Rhett had experienced the joy of seeing women in various stages of undress and he was certain that by now he must have seen examples of every tantalizing bit of fabric a woman could wear, but this chaste little nightgown of thick, quality cotton seemed to be the most erotic garment he had ever seen a woman use to cover her skin. The hem reached as low as her ankles, showing him nothing more but a pair of delicate little feet. The long flaring sleeves covered most of her graceful hands and the little lace rim at the edge of the dress' collar reached all the way up to her square little chin. But he was not blind to the way the dress hung around her; every movement she made showed off her body's fine curves. And the best part was the modestly pleated front of the dress. Her bosom – which nobody would describe as modest – seemed to be accentuated by the sedate ruches. And for all its propriety the dress did not hide the way those breasts bounced at every move she made.

He had almost lost himself when his eyes had first caught side of that delicious little display and, never one to lose his reason, he had decided to test his own control tonight by opening every single button with studied patience. He did so in complete silence and she did not make a sound either, although her breathing became heavier and her ribcage seemed to go up and down with abnormal frequency. When he finally reached the last button - strategically placed at the extreme end of her spine – he could tell she was holding her breath, clearly anticipating his next move. Oh, it would be so easy now to push the dress down her shoulders, turn her around with one quick swirl and assault her mouth and body with equal resilience. But that would be too easy. He was selfish about his pleasures and had seldom felt this aroused by such simple gestures, but he was willing to stall the consummation of all that pent-up desire as long as was humanly possible.

Suppressing a groan that rose automatically in his throat when thinking of what he really wanted to do to her, he tenderly let his fingers disappear underneath the angelic ivory fabric that now hung agape. She shuddered at his touch but did not move. Her flesh was warm and he could feel his fingertips tingle when exploring the womanly softness of it. Gently massaging her back he gradually inched towards even softer territory. When his hands grazed the sides of her breasts she moaned softly. Momentarily losing grip on his restraint, he placed a searing kiss on the back of her neck. He felt her body react immediately and he took advantage of that by letting his hands move forward until his fingers encircled her warm mounds. This time he was not able to hide the groan that burst from his lungs. Before he realized what he was doing, he had the softest part of her in the palms of his large hands. He started to feel light-headed and the way Scarlett inched into his touch automatically made him more daring.

While kneading her gently but firmly, he nuzzled the back of her neck, the fragrance of her sending electric jolts of excitement through his own body. He closed his eyes, while he murmured sweet nothings – his lips still on her flesh. Scarlett sighed and he could feel her body grow limp against his. His hands traced lower; enjoying the gliding curve that formed the threshold between her ample bosom and her equally womanly hips. Several times he ran his fingers along her sides; her waist was so tiny, he was certain his hands could easily encircle it in its entirety. By now his manoeuvring had caused the dress to slip lower; most of her arms and upper body were now bare. His mouth wanted to kiss every inch of the exposed flesh; he started by leaving soft kisses on her round shoulders. She shivered and for a moment he worried that she might be cold, but when his hands caressed her belly – which was as sweetly feminine as the rest of her body– a soft sound escaped her mouth, making him understand that her quivering was borne out of ecstasy.

For a few moments he enjoyed taunting her by letting his long fingers go lower but stopping before he reached that part that he guessed by now was craving him as much as he was craving her. He took her by the hips and gently pushed her harder against his own body, showing her silently that she had a certain effect on him too. Holding her against him with one hand, he placed the other one horizontally against her belly. Then he changed direction and purposefully inched towards the most intimate part of her body. He interrupted his kisses for a moment, determined to have all his senses on alert for this moment. He briefly opened his eyes; convincing himself that he was indeed in Pitty's parlour and that this time around he was really enjoying more than a cup of tea with the widow Hamilton. He closed his eyes and smiled cockily; he had always known she would succumb to him in the end. Then he did not stall any longer and let his hand slide over her smooth skin until…

He opened his eyes wide and blinked. Then he closed them again, fighting to stay in that semi-unconscious state, but it was of no use. His body could not be fooled; his bedroom was bathed in sunlight and the birds were chirping merrily outside his window. He had already slept longer than he usually did. For a moment he stared at the ceiling. He could not believe he'd had that dream again. That dream that both elated and frustrated him. It never went beyond a certain point and so not even in his dreams did he get to know what sleeping with Scarlett would be like. Meanwhile she tortured him in his sleep as much as she did during his waking hours. How did he, Rhett Butler, man of the world, well-known philanderer, formerly convinced that he could have anything that money could buy, end up lusting after a girl that had barely come of age? And when he said lusting he meant wanting her so much that it interfered with the carefree life he had led so far.

How did it all start? If somebody knew the full story, they would say it had started in a rather grand library a little over a year before; but the small thrill that Rhett had felt at the time – at meeting a woman that was part of the old world yet as brazen as himself – would have certainly not been enough in itself to change the course of his entire life. However, it was this unexpected thrill in an otherwise boring county get-together that caused him to attend one of those uneventful charity balls that until that point he had managed to avoid like the plague.

The day of the Atlanta Bazaar he had been forced to visit a local doctor that went by the name of Meade, because the knife wound he had suffered in a port brawl the week before refused to heal properly. It was not the first fight he got involved in and he knew it would not be the last; something about his stature and possibly his demeanour caused others to seek him out. At least in the dog eat dog world that made up his society these days. He knew how to handle situations like that; being taller and bulkier than most of his classmates had taught him early on how to deal with spite and jealousy; expressed either verbally or physically. He had not realized that the man he dealt with last week had an equally vicious brother waiting in the shadows. That one had launched a cowardly attack on him; and for that he had paid with his life. Other than causing him some discomfort, that fight had not interrupted Rhett's last blockading run but the long journey to Atlanta – undertaken because Frank Kennedy had set him up with an affluent customer – had proven too much on the injury. He recognized the first signs of festering and so Belle Watling had directed him to the best doctor in town.

And so he found himself lying on Dr. Meade's examining table one afternoon, at the Confederate hospital where the good doctor spent most of his time these days. Dr. Meade confirmed Rhett's suspicions and treated the wound with a solution that caused an unpleasant, burning sensation.

'Iodine would have been easier on your wound, Captain Butler, but I am afraid we had to rationalize its use, so scarce it is these days,' the doctor said in a grave dry tone that very much reminded Rhett of his father's voice, whenever the old gentleman chose to preface his discourses with a practical example from the Scriptures. 'I do not wish to intrude on either yours or the other valiant sea captains' orders, but we must be aware that in times of war, medicine is just as important for an army as guns and harnesses are. And much more important than satins and lace, if I am allowed to add.'

The valiant sea captain's lips twisted into a smirk, but Dr. Meade had already finished the procedure and turned away, calling for a nurse to tend to the bandaging. While he cleared away the bottles with medication, he asked his patient if he was going to attend the bazaar that would be held that same evening.

Judging by the little speech the doctor had delivered, Rhett guessed that the rumours had spread across town by now. The doctor was clearly aware that the man in front of him was one of the most successful blockade runners the South possessed – therefore a wealthy man by all standards - and that it would be most convenient to turn a blind eye to Captain Butler's less than pristine reputation for the sake of the Cause. Rhett was deeply amused by this kind of hypocrisy; in times of peace a man like Dr. Meade would have looked at him with disdain but, now that the war had put his normal dealings in a more honourable light, the same doctor regarded him as a hero. But however entertaining a spectacle this was, he was not about to waste his night at yet another patriotic gathering. He declined the invitation with as much grace as possible causing the doctor to frown with disappointment.

Soon after, the door opened and an elderly woman entered the room. She was pale and thin, and with a look of faint indignation that, Rhett guessed, was etched on her face perpetually. She ignored his presence completely and addressed Dr. Meade, who swiftly turned on his heels at the sound of her voice, as if by long habit.

'Doctor, not one of our girls has come to do their duty today, on account of the bazaar. And this after Dolly enlisted them to help with the preparations for days in a row, without thinking of what it would do to the hospital. Sometimes, I swear she...'

'Now, now, Mrs. Meade,' the doctor tactfully interrupted her speech. 'Youth will naturally pursue its preenings at such hour, and our hospital will have to make do, especially today when we have a guest of honor in our city. I don't believe you've met Captain Butler, the famous blockader. Captain Butler, this is my wife. She will have to be your nurse for today.'

Rhett, by now sitting up on the examining table, still undressed from the waist up, greeted Mrs. Meade courteously and softly drawled that he couldn't have been put in better care. The little woman took one look at him and her demeanour changed immediately. The frown he had thought permanent on her face was replaced by a look he could only describe as flustered despite itself. Rhett guessed that the sight of naked men normally did not confuse the doctor's wife; surely in the past she had treated men in different stages of undress. However, he knew that his build was hardly that of the average man, and it gave him great amusement that even this so-called respectable woman – a grey mouse if ever he had seen one – was affected by it.

'Would it be more convenient for you if I lie down, Mrs Meade?' he asked, not waiting for her answer but stretching his long body out on the table.

This clearly disturbed the woman because a faint blush appeared on her pale little face. When she placed the bandage on the wound Rhett could see her fingers trembling and he grinned audaciously before assuming a more polite expression. Dr. Meade, unaware of his wife's discomfort, had returned to arranging the bottles in his cabinet. To hide her uneasiness, Mrs. Meade started to nervously chatter, soon falling back into the subject that had fed her earlier indignation.

'Now, Dr. Meade, would you believe that Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Merriwether have asked Pittypat Hamilton and her nieces to attend the bazaar tonight? And Charles in his grave for only a year... Mind you, Pitty is only going to be in charge of the refreshments, in the back room, and Melly and Scarlett will replace the McLure girls—isn't it terrible what happened to Dallas?—and their booth is so withdrawn that probably no one will notice their presence anyway, but... I just don't think it's proper to ask them to attend such a lively function so shortly after Scarlett's husband passed away.'

Mrs. Meade nervousness seemed to have blinded her to the impropriety of discussing such topics in front of a stranger, and the doctor had gone from mild consternation to casting his wife increasingly displeased glances. At least Captain Butler didn't seem to pay any attention, his expression that of the most decorous indifference, as it befitted a gentleman.

'I know that there is no sacrifice too great for the Cause,' Mrs. Meade continued, oblivious to her husband's displeasure. 'We all have to do our part, and that's not what is bothering me. It's not even the fact that Pittypat and Melanie, though in mourning, will be there. After all, I am sure Melly only accepted this to help the glorious Cause her husband is fighting for in the snows of Virginia.'

Mrs. Meade could not avoid touching Rhett's abdomen every now and then while adjusting the dressing. This clearly disturbed her and Rhett would have found this all very entertaining had he been paying attention. But, despite his impassive face, his mind was keenly following the woman's monologue.

His interest had first been sparked at hearing that very uncommon name. Scarlett! Surely not many girls were given that name, could this be the same girl he had met at that barbecue more than a year ago? Even the name Charles Hamilton faintly rang a bell. And now to hear that she had married the fellow, who conveniently also happened to be Mr. Wilkes's brother-in-law. A rather desperate move in his eyes; but it appeared she had gotten out of her marital duties fast enough and now had a legitimate reason to be near the man she probably still desired. All very interesting news.

'No, it's Scarlett's presence at that function that bothers me. I can't believe Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Merriwether asked a widow of scarcely a year to appear in public. And what's more shocking is that Scarlett accepted it... I am sure she has good intentions, but sometimes I just don't know what to make of her. I heard that only this morning she was waving at the soldiers that rode out to help the ladies collect the woodland decorations for the bazaar. And I certainly hope that this is just idle gossip, but they say she was at her bedroom wind—'

'Now, Mrs Meade, you are forgetting yourself,' the doctor finally interrupted her. 'You know what the old Romans say of Rumour, that swiftest of all evils. It sings alike of fact and falsehood. And as for Scarlett attending the bazaar, the widow of a Confederate soldier has one thing left, dearest than anything under the sun, and that is our Sacred Cause. It's only natural she'd want to help, for, besides her child, it is her only reward in this world.'

This discourse, that made it very hard for Rhett to keep his collected facade, seemed to finally make Mrs. Meade aware of her lapse in decorum. She blushed and hastened to repair the mistake.

'Oh, you are right as always, Dr. Meade. Forgive me, I do need to be more charitable towards her. And if Melly thinks it is proper, then it is. They will have such a quiet booth after all. Hardly anyone will notice they are there,' Mrs. Meade sighed.

Rhett's eyes started to sparkle. He couldn't imagine the spirited Miss O'Hara – Mrs. Hamilton now – being a wallflower, regardless of mourning or how quiet her booth would be. He would like to see for himself how that arresting young woman that had managed to hold the attention of every single man at that barbecue – including himself – would survive being forced into the role of the grieving widow. And it would be even more amusing to see her interact with the wife of the man she had so fiercely professed her love for.

His mind had been so adrift that he only realized that Mrs. Meade had asked him a question when her husband let out a polite little cough to draw his attention.

'Uhm, my apologies, what was that, Mrs. Meade?'

'I was wondering if you would be willing to attend our bazaar this evening. I know you are a busy man but perhaps you could find a little time to spare for our Cause tonight. Besides, we could do with a few extra men for the reel; with most of our boys away on the battlefields at the moment. It will be good fun and you might find that we have a few very nice articles on sale.'

Then she glanced over the hard body of the man in front of her and suddenly she realized that such a man would not set much store on embroidered pillows and knitted shawls. She also wondered just what Dolly Merriwether would think if this man asked her Maybelle for a dance. He just radiated a certain danger that, even with her husband present in the room, made her feel quite uncomfortable.

'Captain Butler has already declined my invitation; he is ready to set sail in the next few days and he…'

'Well, now that your charming wife insists that my presence is needed I might be swayed to attend after all,' Rhett quickly intercepted. 'It has been long that I got an invitation to a dance.'

He paused for a moment to give the couple time to recollect just why he had not been invited to dances recently.

'Besides, with so many of my fellow countrymen away, it is nothing but my gentlemanly duty to entertain the women they have left behind.'

He smirked with devilish glee, which made Mrs. Meade wonder just what exactly he meant by 'entertaining.' As if she was stung, she took her hands away from his body, deciding that the bandage was sufficiently in place. Smoothly Rhett got up from the table and after giving Mrs Meade another impudent grin, he quickly disappeared behind the changing screen. The Meades exchanged a worried look; Captain Butler had sounded nothing but polite, but somehow his remark about entertaining the ladies had made them feel uneasy.

And so Rhett had attended that bazaar where he and Scarlett O'Hara made an everlasting impression on all the other guests because he bid – in gold – for a lady in mourning who had the gall to accept such an indecent proposal and even dared to enjoy herself with the scoundrel of a man who made it.

During those few hours they were together at the bazaar, Rhett had decided that nobody in Scarlett's circle would be as suited for her as he was. He even said as much when he told her that one day she would say that she loved him instead of that uninspiring hero that now occupied her dreams. Even later in life Rhett could not decide if it had been that beautiful smile she had given him when he entered the hall or the boldness with which she had accepted his dance proposal, but somehow he had become quite smitten with her as from that day.

It was with military precision that he planned his next move and he felt quite proud that his plan rapidly provided him with the access to Scarlett that he had wanted. All thanks to the gentle Mrs. Wilkes who seemed to believe in the goodness of mankind more than the average person. Meanwhile he had carefully inquired after Scarlett and her relatives and so far he had learned that the child she had given birth to was a boy named after one of the Confederate generals, that the staff of her household consisted of a few older servants of which only one man called Peter could provide a major obstacle, for it seemed that Melanie Wilkes and Scarlett Hamilton had to do without a male protector in their household; only an old aunt presided over the girls; an old aunt who was prone to bouts of bad health if he was to believe the rumours he heard. If Rhett Butler wanted to, he could charm the devil so he looked forward to worming his way into the beautiful widow Hamilton's life; the biggest challenge would lie in conquering Scarlett's heart not in gaining the approval of her family.

However, he reconsidered this when, a few days after the bazaar and before his second meeting with Scarlett could take place, his daily card game was interrupted by a stout Irishman who came to look for him in his favourite establishment.

''Tis a gentleman called Rhett Butler I am looking for, can you point me towards him?' the man inquired at the bar in a thick Irish brogue. Rhett glanced up from his hand to see who was looking for him, his hand unconsciously brushing the gun he was hiding under his vest, and he could tell right away that the man in question was agitated for some reason; his face was clearly flustered because of it. While the bartender pointed the Irishman towards him, Rhett wondered where he had seen this man before; because he was certain he had, he never forgot a face. Luckily he realized who the man in question was before he stood in front of him. He got up and bowed courteously, assuring the man that he was honoured to renew their acquaintance.

'We had the most interesting discussion, right before the war, Mr. O'Hara. I have always hoped that we would meet again to continue our conversation. Why don't you sit down, Sir? Maybe I could offer you a drink?'

Gerald looked disconcerted for moment; clearly he had not anticipated that the man who was leading his Scarlett into a pit would be glad to see him.

'Uhm, no, Captain Butler. I have not come here to share a drink with you," he said, glancing at the company that Rhett kept and eying the deck of cards on the table with more than a fleeting interest, a fact that didn't escape Rhett's notice.

The older man quickly remembered himself and cleared his throat to return to the thunderous tone in which he had inquired after Butler at the bar. 'I would like a word with you. In private, that is.'

'I would be most honoured, Mr. O'Hara. However, as you can see, I was just in the middle of something. Would you mind it very much if I finish this first? I have a feeling it won't take long. I don't mean to brag but I am a rather accomplished player,' he added in a lower tone.

Gerald's eyes started glimmering. 'Ah, like that, lad? Know a thing or two about cards myself I do. The best hand in County Meath I was. 'Tis a shame that this war and all the work at me Tara scarcely left me time for a game in months.'

'Well, if you want you could join me in the next game. I am sure that whatever it is you wanted to discuss can wait till later?' Sensing the man's hesitance, Rhett silkily continued, 'But I must warn you, Sir. I am sure you're the best player in green County Meath. In the whole of Ireland perhaps. But, as the gentlemen here can pledge, I never lost a game of poker. And I played across the two Americas,' he finished, showing his white teeth in a confident smile.

Gerald's face at those words reminded Rhett so much of Scarlett's expression whenever her anger was battling against her breeding and better judgment that he almost laughed out loud. The Irishman's conscience was clearly divided between the need to prove his worth and the task that had brought him today. Rhett guessed that one of the old cats had written Scarlett's mother about their little adventure and now it was up to her father to sort out the mess. Something he seemed reluctant to do.

If Rhett knew his type well, then Gerald O'Hara had the same fondness for liquor that he had for a gentleman's game of cards, and it wouldn't take long to pacify him. Any other man would have hesitated to lure the father of the woman he desired into indecent behaviour. However, Rhett had no qualms with this; he did not intend to become Gerald's son-in-law at any point. Yes, he desired Gerald's oldest daughter like he had desired no woman before her but his vague plans never went beyond having her as a mistress. One who would make his stays in Atlanta certainly more pleasurable. From what he had seen of Scarlett—the passionate nature she possessed, the rebellion she felt against all the things she had been taught—he was certain that he could easily sway her into a less conservative lifestyle that would prove favourable for both of them.

'Alright. 'Tis you that wanted to play against an Irishman. I'll beat you in one game. And then talk we will,' the older man finally decided.

Rhett nodded in complete agreement and courteously invited him to have a seat. Gerald immediately accepted his offer for drinks.

'Weaned on Irish poteen I was. A drink or two helps me game. But you, laddybuck, better take care with that whiskey.'

Rhett smiled a benign little smile as he poured his guest another glass. The drinks seemed to have untied his tongue and Gerald, far from the reprimand he had come to deliver, started to recount previous games he won and previous adventures he'd had at Court Day in Jonesboro. He even told Rhett how hard life had been on Tara lately; how he rarely had the opportunity to sit down with his neighbours and enjoy evenings like this.

'That reminds me, Captain Butler.. It has come to me attention that you have made me Katie Scarlett forget herself at that bazaar. Now, you seem like a nice enough gentleman but I can't have you taking advantage of me daughter like that, lad.'

Rhett expressed the proper amount of remorse and Gerald seemed satisfied with that for the moment; they both focused on the card game. At first Gerald did not think much of Butler's gambling skills. Despite a miserable set of cards, Gerald managed to beat him a couple of times. Soon he got a bit overconfident, aided by the liquor that now seemed to appear on the table as regular as clockwork. But by the time he started losing serious money, he had decided that Rhett Butler was a very nice fellow. He even agreed with Rhett at one point that his 'puss' was a rare girl. Proudly he proclaimed that she could jump fences that most men would not even dare to tackle. When Butler seemed impressed with that, he gave him a nice insight into the O'Hara marriage by telling him how it was his Katie Scarlett that had saved him from more than one embarrassing confrontation with Mrs. O'Hara; like any other man he enjoyed a drink every now and then and he could always count on his oldest child to cover up any overindulgence.

Rhett listened closely to the drunken man's ramblings. It certainly gave him a new perspective on the enticing creature that Mr. O'Hara's daughter was. Amusedly ,he decided that Gerald nickname for her was very suitable. Not only did she possess the most feline eyes he had ever seen on a human being; her general demeanour reminded him of that of a stubborn yet adorable little pet. His pet.

When he had gotten Gerald thoroughly laced with drink he escorted him to the house on Peachtree that happened to be inhabited by his little pet and her relatives. He guessed that Scarlett – used to her father's drinking habits – would know how to bend the situation to her advantage. Yes, at first she would be annoyed with him because he had gotten her father drunk, but in the end she would be grateful; he guessed that the restrictive household that Scarlett grew up in was not a place she wanted to return to soon. Besides, getting her wound up would give him the opportunity to see those feline eyes spark again; something that thrilled him more than anything on this earth. He merrily joined Gerald in song when turning the corner of Peachtree Street.

To his great amusement Scarlett felt the need to come down and scold the both of them. However, he was unprepared for the rush of desire that coursed through his veins when he first laid eyes on her. In her agitated state she had neglected to retain her modesty and her body – free from restrictions under a thin wrapper that let the hem of her cotton nightgown show at the ankles – seemed even more appealing than it had been when he had first seen her in that green sprigged muslin dress that so charmingly accentuated her figure.

Despite the semi-darkness they stood in, she noticed his bold stare and his depraved thoughts immediately made way for a soft tenderness at seeing her virginal embarrassment. He wanted to assure her that it was alright; he was not going to take advantage of her in her state of dishabille but when she frowned and ordered him to bring her father inside he reminded himself that despite her adolescent age this feisty little lady was no kitten to be handled ungloved.

Despite her father's presence in the room he decided to forgo propriety and suggested that he should support Gerald up to his room; an offer made out of genuine concern but her reaction told him immediately that her mind had less purer thoughts. This amused him greatly and he could not resist playing a little wordgame when she asked him to bring him to the settee. She had such a riveting little personality and he adored her even more when she unwittingly disclosed to him that this was not the first time she covered up her father's drunken antics. She was all woman; all woman and she could handle any man, even him, Rhett was certain of it. His determination to have her in one way or the other grew as from then. However, it proved not to be an easy task. He did not mind; he always welcomed a challenge.

It was after this nightly encounter that the dreams started; lively dreams that he did not welcome. More than once he woke up in a state that he only remembered from his own adolescent years. Like a bee to a honeypot he flocked over to the widow's house after such nights only to be taunted and tested by her charming yet stubborn persona.

He vowed to find out what it would be like to lay with Scarlett, no matter how long it would take him. In the meantime he had to find ways, beside the blockading trips, to keep his mind occupied and his fantasies restricted to short moments of daytime dreaming.

A/N: OK, unfortunately the beast that is Rhett Butler got out of control again, so this will probably take 2 more chapters before it is done. I hope to post them here a.s.a.p.

If you get bored waiting, why not check out the amazing blog that iso and Bugsie have created (my favourites: delicious Southern cuisine and entertaining explanations of the many quotes made by the oh so eloquent Captain Butler). You can find it at: www dot gwtwscrapbook dot blogspot dot com