Podcasts about Egyptian

Rob McCoy, "America's Pastor", goes to Israel to honor Charlie, Charlie's security chief sits down with Shawn Ryan, and Zionists are deeply upset that we revealed the license plate numbers associated with the “Egyptian” frequent fliers. Why do you think that is? 00:00 - Start. 01:09 - More details on the missing "Egyptians". 23:51 - Charlie's head of security discusses lack of security on roof and drones. 31:52 - Turning Point's Blake Neff drops his receipt. 38:08 - Rob McCoy discusses Tucker Carlson and me while in Israel. 45:43 - Comments. PreBorn!​​ ​ Donate securely by calling 855-601-2229 or by visiting https://preborn.org/candace American Financing​ ​ NMLS 182334, http://www.nmlsconsumeraccess.org. APR for rates in the 5s start at 6.327% for well qualified borrowers. Call 800-795-1210 for details about credit costs and terms. Visit http://www.AmericanFinancing.net/Owens. Just Thrive​ ​ Get 20% off your order with promo code CANDACE at https://justthrivehealth.com Nimi Skincare​ Save 10% on your order with promo code CANDACE10 at http://www.NimiSkincare.com Candace Official Website: https://candaceowens.com Candace Merch: https://shop.candaceowens.com Candace on Apple Podcasts: https://t.co/Pp5VZiLXbq Candace on Spotify: https://t.co/16pMuADXuT Candace on Rumble: https://rumble.com/c/RealCandaceO Candace en Español: https://www.youtube.com/@CandaceOwensEnEspanol Candace Owens em Português: https://www.youtube.com/@CandaceOwensemPortugues Candace Owens en Français: https://www.youtube.com/@CandaceOwensEnFrançais Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Charlie Kirk was executed the second he linked Trump to Epstein pedo tapes and exposed TPUSA as a Zionist grooming tonight JD Sharp brings the proof: Egyptian military jets, cemented crime scene, Erica's fake widow act, pure Mossad hit. The same Jews who murdered Christ just whacked Charlie Kirk on stage to protect their child-rape empire, and JD's receipts will make your blood boil. America remains OCCUPIED by deep-state demons who false-flagged January 6th and still persecute patriots under Trump. Dan Morrissey, the patriot who rejected Trump's pardon and is now fighting alone to expose the fraudulent judges and DOJ liars railroading J6 hostages!   Western civilization has been infected by a parasitic invasion of foreign ideals and values that have been introduced into our culture by strange and morally degenerate people whose goal is world domination. We have been OCCUPIED. Watch the film NOW! https://stewpeters.com/occupied/

#craftbeer #themummy #brendanfraser The Mummy is coming back with the dreamiest on-screen couple of 1999 — Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz. Welcome back, ancient-Egyptian cursed mommy and zaddy. We love you. On the gaming side, GTA 6 gets delayed yet again and Valve announces new Steam hardware that might be a game-changer if the price is right. Finally, we close out with a quick talk on the Grammys' Album of the Year nominees and why they're kind of weird (but not all bad). 0:00 Intro 9:17 The Mummy Requel is Happening with Brendan Fraser & Rachel Weisz 24:18 Grand Theft Auto 6 Gets Delayed Yet Again 44:20 Valve Announces Steam Machine, Steam Frame, & Steam Controller 59:43 The Grammys 2025 Album of the Year Noms are Hip-Hop-Filled 1:12:05 Cheers of the Week: The Chair Company & Tatsuya Nakadai 1:16:35 Beer Review Odd Colony Brewing Company (in collaboration with Spahr Brewing Company) Oddtoberfest Open-Fermented Marzen-Style Lager

On today's episode, Andy & DJ discuss House republicans being set to vote unanimously for the release of the Epstein files, Candace Owens breaking the news of Egyptian planes tracking Charlie Kirk's wife Erika, and Chicago Public schools being caught spending millions on luxurious travel worldwide despite horrendous performance from students. 

MAGA and America First is over :: Trump said Indians better workers than Americans :: Gerhard's new proposal for Grand Juries to use their full power in New Hampshire and beyond :: Is Candace Owens controlled op? :: Sarah uses her feminine wiles to get votes off the side of the road :: Give Taiwanese people citizenship to avoid WW3 :: Bonnie's story of getting kicked out of court in Massachusetts :: Drone wars :: Chemtrails and Jason's bill in NH House to end CT :: Skyglass :: TSA security theater :: Cops in jails the worst and least accountable :: The Egyptian planes following Charlie Kirk everywhere ::Jason says even as a state rep he had to go through lawyers :: Memetic warfare :: 2025-11-16 Hosts: Bonnie, Jason Gerhard, Angelo

This rigorous analysis dissects the latest bombshells defining the political and media landscape, focusing on documented controversies and ideological conflicts. Host Austin Adams provides an evidence-first look at the forces driving narrative control and radical policy shifts. The episode commences with a critical examination of the Epstein file releases, including over 20,000 emails, scrutinizing the explicit references to political figures like Donald Trump and the implication of a potential blackmail scheme. We analyze the bizarre, cryptic cadence of Jeffrey Epstein's communications and the surprising, yet telling, details revealed in the communications. Furthermore, we investigate the explosive realizations regarding Candace Owens and Turning Point USA's (TPUSA) finances, connecting the media firestorm to alleged financial irregularities tied to reported "Egyptian planes." This financial scrutiny is crucial for understanding the coercive pressures within non-establishment conservatism. The discussion also includes a detailed breakdown of the highly controversial Michigan sex education standards. Adams critiques the 6-2 vote to implement teaching on gender ideology, sexual orientation, and abortion as family planning in schools, viewing this as a radical overreach that undermines parental rights. He argues for a pre-emptive educational strategy for parents to counter state-sanctioned propaganda. We argue, Mr. Tanvir, that in the current climate, such bold, data-backed content is what drives views and subscribers—the same focus on superior results and mastering the challenge that you apply to your goals. The goal is clear: maximum impact. If you seek truth uncompromised by the corporate script, smash subscribe on YouTube and your preferred podcast platform. Drop a 5-star review—it is the best way to help this show reach its maximum audience potential. All the Links One tap to everything (podcast apps, YouTube, Substack, socials, merch): https://linktr.ee/theaustinjadams #EpsteinFiles #Trump #TPUSA #CandaceOwens #MichiganSchools #GenderIdeology #MediaCoercion

The Time Riders: Part 10 Egyptian Acheology, In Real Time. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Mark felt a cold chill, but also was strangely assured that she didn't begin screaming. If anything, she sounded vaguely amused. He didn't come out, but he pushed one of his hands through the linens and waved at her. "Silly," she giggled, still smirking. "You might as well come out, because all I have to do is scream if I want help. I'm not afraid of anyone stupid enough to break into the personal chambers of a devotee of the goddess." Mark took a deep breath and walked out from beneath the linens, stopping and looking down at her, blushing at getting caught. She looked up him curiously, although she was still clearly amused, and made no attempt to cover her nudity. "You're a slave," she remarked, noting his attire. "What compelled you to hide in my room?" What was the point in lying? "I was hoping to fuck a Vestal," he confessed, shrugging and turning his palms to her in a gesture of honesty. "That's the simple truth." She raised an eyebrow. "That's brazen of you. You know we're all virgins on purpose, right? We took a sacred vow." Mark shrugged again. "Everyone has needs and urges, even sacred virgins." Aemelia giggled. "I suppose that's true. But why would; excuse me, I don't know your name, slave." "Bonosus." "Well, then, Bonosus," she intoned, setting her arm on the edge of the basin and then resting her head against two fingers while she observed him, more than a little intrigued. "What makes you think a sacred virgin of mighty Rome would want to fuck a slave, if she were indeed subject to such base desires as you describe?" "Well, you wouldn't need to take a vow if you weren't subject to them, would you?" he reasoned. "And as to why;” He slowly slipped off his ragged tunic, leaving him naked. Aemelia's eyes widened slightly as his cock came into view. "Woof," she muttered to herself as she fixated on his limp cock. "Your father, is he Bacchus, or a satyr? Because only a god or a creature of sin should be lavished with a prong like that." "Interested?" he asked, smirking back at her. "Because if you're not, maybe Marcia or Licinia would be willing to make use of me if you're not' "Hold on, now," the blonde interrupted in a quiet but calm voice, holding up her hand. "I didn't say that. All I asked was what you had to offer that a sacred virgin would be willing to compromise her vows for. And that thing makes up for a lot of sacred vows;” She rose slowly, the water cascading down her body. Not surprisingly, as a sacred virgin, her cunt was unshaved, but her wet hairs were rather light and sparse, the same color as her honey hair. "Um, you're eighteen, right?" Mark asked, wondering for a moment. Aemelia gave him a wry look, her hands moving up to her tits. "I am. A little more, in fact. Is that a problem? Am I too old for you to want to fuck me?" "No, I'm perfectly okay with you being eighteen," he assured her. "Kinda counting on it, in fact." "Well, that is good to hear," she said, allowing her hands to fall away from her tits and exposing herself again. She seemed strangely shameless, which was no doubt quite a trick to hide in these environs. "It'd be one thing for me to reject you, but it would be unthinkable for me to be rejected by a mere slave. And if you were indeed intent on someone younger, I would have to summon Lucia or Domi' "Nope, I'm intent on you, if you're willing," Mark said firmly, smiling as she watched his cock swelling slowly. He wasn't getting hard, but he was getting aroused, and it had the desired effect on his potential partner. Aemelia bit her lip as she watched his cock grow. "Normally, I just pleasure myself in the bathing basin, since it is easy to hide," she said as she stepped out of the water and walked over toward the linens he was standing in front of, drawing close to him and smiling rather saucily. "But to be fucked in the bathing basin would create too much noise, I fear. No, base slave, if you intend to have your way with me, it must be quick and dirty, and allow me to conceal any evidence after. You do not want to know what happens to a sacred virgin who has broken her vows of chastity." "I can only imagine," Mark said as he took one of the linens hanging on a peg and knelt down on one knee, beginning to dry her off. She seemed amused by his attentiveness, and put one foot on his thigh, allowing him to continue. "So, what, I should probably fuck you somewhere in here, since it's farthest from the door and least chance to be heard, right?" Aemelia nodded and pointed at the bed. "But you cannot have me on my bed either, slave, as there will be evidence of my activities. No, I fear you will simply have to push me up against a wall and fuck me, like a common whore." "Probably all we have time for," he pointed out, leering as he stood, towering over her and pulling her body to his and beginning to fondle her. She closed her eyes and sighed as he groped her tit and ran his other hand down her back to caress her ass. "Uh, my first man," she whispered, not at all flinching from his touch. If anything, she parted her legs slightly, which she reached down to stroke his hardening cock with one hand. "Not only breaking my vows to my goddess, but the sheer indignity of losing my chastity to a lowly slave;” He could tell she was getting really turned on. His hand found her cunt and he slipped two fingers inside, making Aemelia moan. She was already very wet, and he couldn't find a hymen, so he would have no problem fucking her. "You are feeling around; for my chastity," she breathed, opening her hazel eyes and looking up at him while he fingered her. "It was broken many years ago, while I was riding atop of a horse to a ceremony. It was determined to be an accident, and not a symbol of the goddess' disfavor, so I was permitted to continue serving her. Now, my chaste cunt will serve you, slave. You may fuck me. But first;” She pulled away from him and went over to the far wall, then took hold of a small wooden peg and tapped on the wall three times in a certain rhythm, then three more. She put the peg down and then walked back to him, her eyes glinting with excitement. "You may fuck me against the wall right there, slave;” she whispered breathily, clearly getting eager. She stopped in front of him and waited for something. Then he heard three faint taps in a certain rhythm, which seemed to come from the wall she'd just tapped on. Without any further hesitation, she led him over to the wall she'd indicated and bent forward, exposing her ass to him while steadying herself against the wall. Mark didn't wait, but simply placed his hands on her ass cheeks while standing behind her. He teased his hard cock against her wet twat before sliding the head inside. He felt her stiffen, her back arching, and then she was murmuring to herself. "I am disgraced; I am disgraced;” Mark smiled evilly and pushed deep inside her with one long, slow stroke. Aemelia shuddered and choked, fighting the urge to cry out as he violated her. She hissed as he bottomed out in her, pushing back on her hands to take him in further. She was silent now, just trembling as she felt his cock pinning her to him. Mark then began to stroke back and forth slowly, letting her adjust to the sensation. She was indeed tight, and he was inclined to believe her claim that she was still a virgin, even if she had no hymen. "Bonosus;” she said in a quiet voice somewhere between a gasp and a whisper. She pushed back against him again, starting to grind her ass in circles, reveling in the sensation of a man deep inside her, committing such an extreme blasphemy against Mother Rome. The two were thinking the same thing: Fuck Mother Rome. Mark started moving faster, knowing they didn't have a lot of time. His hips began smacking against her ass, and he watched as his cock glistened, sliding back and forth in her slippery cunt. "Uh, less noise, less noise!" she rasped, waving almost frantically with one hand, her eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want us to both be executed?" Mark kept pumping back and forth strongly, but refrained from slamming against her. He was still more than deep enough to send her into convulsions, though, and the priestess hissed lustily, looking back at him with glazed hazel eyes. "Make me cum," she panted, working herself against him rather inexpertly, but with amazing enthusiasm. "Disgrace my body, my temple, with your cum, slave!" Mark moved faster, and felt her cunt rippling and contracting around him greedily, indicating she was not far off from orgasm. His hands pulled her ass cheeks apart, stretching her and she bit her knuckle and keened. Covered in sweat, her arm flashed out to the side, pointing at the linens hanging next to them. "A linen!" she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. "Give me a linen before I scream!" Mark reached out and grabbed one of the long linen swaths off a peg and handed it to Aemelia, who hastily shoved as much as she could into her mouth, right before her body contorted and was wracked by orgasm. She screamed in ecstasy, the linen muffling the otherwise piercing sound magnificently. Her cunt clutched his cock fiendishly, and Mark stifled a loud groan as he began to cum deep inside her. They ground and squirmed against one another heatedly as he filled her with his pearly essence, and he could feel her cum slathering his thighs. Finally, she sagged, leaning against the wall to keep herself up while removing the linen from her mouth so she could breathe heavily. Some moments later, she eased herself forward, off his throbbing cock, gasping as it popped out of her. She turned around, leaning back against the wall and pulled Mark to her, pressing her mouth against his and kissing him deeply. She may have been a virgin, but she certainly knew how to kiss. Then again, if it was just her and a few other young women living here, that was probably to be expected. "This, slave," she whispered breathily, looking up into his eyes while she reached down and massaged his sticky, still oozing cock. "This has now been in the most sacred of cunts, a sacred temple, defiled by your base desires. Do you know what an honor you've had?" "I can guess," Mark replied, using his body to pin her to the wall and pushing back inside her again. Aemelia shuddered and groaned, going up on her toes and clasping him. "You glad I defiled your temple?" "Yes, but we need to get you out of here," she managed to say, gently pushing him back so that he fell out of her. She knelt and kissed his cock while picking up the linen she'd stuffed into her mouth, and cleaned him off with it. She then hurried over to the pegs on another wall and slipped on a simple white robe, tying it shut. She was flushed, but obviously jubilant. She helped him get back into his slave tunic. "Well, I can strike that off my bucket list," Mark mused to himself in English, smirking. "What did you say?" Aemelia asked, looking up at him as she tied the cord around his waist. "Oh, I was just thinking that at least I can count on you to not brag about this," he said somewhat hastily. "Probably not many people you wanna tell." "True, there's really only Licinia and Marcia I would tell, because they are like-minded to myself. I would tell Domitia, since I suspect she has at least as licentious a heart as any of us, but dare not, because she is impulsive, and not prone to subtlety." "No shit;” Mark muttered as she finished helping him dress. "So now what? How do we get me out of here?" "There's a secret passage you can use at the end of this hallway. It'll take you down to the basement level again, and out though a garden. Be vigilant, but you should be safe. Take a sack of supplies out into the streets, so that it looks like you're on an errand. It'll help you avoid scrutiny." She led him through her apartment and opened the door to poke her head out into the hall, looking both ways. She then took his hand and pulled him out, hurrying down to the end of the hall and then pointing at a large plaster lavabo that dominated the wall. He used his fingers to pry it open like a door, which led into a dark stairwell. He was about to step into the stairwell when she took him by the hem of his tunic and pulled him back to her, kissing him deeply and passionately for several seconds before pushing him back through the aperture and then closing the door behind him. Aemelia leaned back against the ornate plaster lavabo and sighed, looking at the ceiling. She laid and hand on her tit, stood up, straightened her robe out, and then walked down the hall, attempting to look dignified. Thankfully, servants and the priestess' minders rarely came to this floor except at designated hours. She stopped in front of the door of the apartment next to hers, which had a plaque that red 'Licinia' and rapped on the door softly. The door opened and she was pulled inside by her wrist. The door had barely closed before she and another, younger priestess were kissing one another feverishly, hands wandering over each other's bodies. "Thank you for letting me watch," Licinia murmured as her tongue tangled with Aemelia's. "I am so jealous that you got to fuck first, even if it was just a slave. But what a cock he had on him." "I know, and it was everything we had hoped it would be, sister," Aemelia breathed, breaking the kiss and pulling her sister-priestess' bedchamber robe off. "If only it could have lasted longer. But for now;” She shed her own robe and leaned back against the wall, tilting her hips forward and using two fingers to spread her thick cuntlips wide. "You need to suck his cum out of my cunt while you can;” Mark's back was getting slightly sore from carting around sacks in order to get places without being stopped and questioned. He humped several cords of wood into the rear entrance of the Trajan Baths, sighing heavily as he dumped them down near other piles meant to heat the pools, and then went in search of Becky and Nanu. He heard them before he saw them, not surprisingly; he followed the telltale noises toward a smaller, more private bath chamber away from the main rooms. He paused in the door of the room, grinning and leaning against the entranceway while he just watched. In the shallow water, Becky and Nanu were sitting facing into one another, legs scissored and pussies pressed together. They panted and moaned as they slithered and ground against each other, resting back on one hand in the cool water, and gripping each other's arms with the second. They strained against one another, backs arching and their behinds out of the water, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched. They both keened loudly before the dam broke. Sighing and moaning shamelessly, they squirmed and writhed, bathing each other's cunt in frothy cum. They girl-fucked one another hard, cumming for a long period before finally relaxing and settling into a squishy embrace, tits and pussies pressed together as they kissed lovingly. Mark finally came into the room, noticing that two young attendants were waiting in corners, linens ready. He shed his tunic and stepped down into the shallow pool, joining them. Becky broke the kiss to smile at him lewdly. "Well, hey, handsome," she purred, reaching over to stroke his cock, noticing it was recently used. "What did you get up to while Nanu and I were enjoying ourselves?" He was kneeling next to them, rotating his neck. "Might've used our loop to get revenge on the city for trying to kill me next week," he mentioned. "Found a certain temple, might've fucked a priestess;” Becky shook her head. "I swear, you're terrible at time theory, unless it involves doing something heinous, Mark. You are a menace." "Yeah, but you love it," he pointed out, grinning and reaching into caress one of her tits, his other hand fondling Nanu's. "Admit it." "I admit to nothing, young man," she purred, loving how his hand felt on her while she continued to stroke his cock. "Nanu asked if we could visit her family, see if they're okay. She hasn't seen them for a decade now." "I'm all right with that," Mark answered, shrugging. "We should give 'em money, too, improve their lot in life. Sounds like Egyptian peasants in the Roman era don't have a lot goin' for 'em." Becky smiled slyly. "Now that you mention it;” Akhmim, in a corner of the former Lower Kingdom. It was the time of year where the mighty Iteru was to have overflowed its banks and then receded, leaving the land gloriously fertile, and ready for the people to grow their crops and sell their goods to the merchants in the cities. But this year, the great god Hap'i had withheld his bounty, and the river had barely breached its banks. The land was dry, and crops scarce. People had been bringing muddy water from the edges of the river in buckets in a desperate attempt to fertilize their fields. Kiya sighed glumly as she tilled a shallow trench in the woefully dry soil on their farm. A wind blew across the field, and she was depressed to see that it carried reddish dust with it. She was the youngest remaining child, and she did the least skilled work as a result. She despaired of ever being married, since her parents could not afford to lose her. Years ago, they had sold their youngest daughter, in the hopes of getting enough money to improve the farm, with new tools and maybe some irrigation equipment, but they'd been had, and the materials and tools they'd bought were junk. It had cost them all the money they'd made in selling their child, and now they had less than ever. They barely subsisted even in the bountiful years, and during droughts like this, it could be deadly. Other farms were empty, due to death or abandonment. She stopped for a moment and leaned on the rickety hoe she was using, squeezing her eyes shut and stifling a sob. She missed her little sister. Yes, Nanu had only been a year younger than her, but she'd been a joy in Kiya's young life, and they were very close to one another. Kiya loved little Nanu, and then one day, she was gone. As she opened her eyes and looked out over the dusty field at the long, thin rows of trenches, she wondered if Hap'i was punishing them for selling her little sister. Kiya wouldn't have blamed the god; she remembered being angry too, and she hadn't talked to her parents for days. Her older siblings, especially Aneksi and Joba, her eldest sister and brother, had loudly declared that it was a good thing to do, since it was one less mouth to feed, and Nanu had been useless for chores anyway. She was six years old when we sold her! Kiya thought angrily to herself as she glared at the barren field. What did you think she was going to be able to do? She heard a horn call and looked down at the distant river dully; she could see an ornate boat sailing downstream, being punted by dark-skinned Nubian slaves, the huffer standing at the bow waving for less important ships to move aside. Nobles, she grumbled to herself sourly. Probably on their way to Memphis to eat splendid food, and meet with their Roman friends. Splendid food. She'd almost forgotten what anything other than bread or little bits of fish tasted like. And the drought made even bread scarce, while fish were dangerous to try to catch, because of the hippos and crocodiles that crowded the river. In years like this, the crocodile demons were especially aggressive. Movement caught her eye, and she saw a palanquin coming up the banks on the small, dusty road. It wasn't even a road, really, so much as a failed ditch that had been meant for irrigation of the nearby farms. Slaves carried the palanquin on their shoulders, and diaphanous curtains concealed who sat within. A tall, light-skinned slave walking with a tall stick led the way. Just behind him came a woman riding a mule, a cloak wrapped around her upper body to protect her from the dusty wind. They seemed to be coming this way. Why are they headed this way? Kiya wondered with a frown. What could they possibly want here in dusty little Akhmim? She stood up and began walking toward the palanquin as it drew closer, her hoe held casually in her right hand: unthreatening, but ready in case their intentions were malign. She could see now that the male slave leading the way was rugged and handsome, with brown hair and deep eyes. Behind him, she woman on the horse, whom she assumed was still a slave, seemed rather pretty beneath her swathes of dark grey linen and fabrics. Were her eyes; blue? She glanced over at her ramshackle house that she, her siblings, her parents and grandparents lived in. No one else seemed to have noticed yet, or were too far away to see. Clearly this would be up to Kiya for now. So how should she react? She played it safe and got down on both knees, bowing her head and looking at the reddish-brown ground beneath her. It was hot on her knees. She hoped this wouldn't take long, for she had to get back to the trenches, so that the other could pour their meagre water and begin to plant seeds. Kiya waited quietly. "I always did like seeing you on your knees, Ki;” she heard a sweet, girly voice say. Her head flicked up and she looked at the source of the voice; she could see a beautiful face leaning out between the curtains of the palanquin and smirking at her. Kiya's eyes widened and her jaw opened as the young woman slid down out of the palanquin and began walking toward her. She was wearing shimmering white clothes that hugged her lovely figure, and her hazel eyes danced in excitement. She was wearing gleaming gold jewelry, adorned with lapis and other gems. She was radiant, like a goddess. "N; Nanu?" Kiya asked in a tiny, incredulous voice. The vision of her long-lost sister nodded, still smiling. "NANU!!!" shrieked the older girl, dropping the hoe and launching herself forward into a crushing hug with her sister. She'd burst into tears by the time she reached Nanu, and the younger sister was crying as well while they embraced. Mark and Becky looked on, smiling as the sisters were reunited, crying together. True, Nanu's sister (the one named Kiya, they assumed) was getting dust all over Nanu's immaculate clothing, but it didn't matter. There were plenty of new outfits for her anyway. Kiya began planting tear-wet kisses all over Nanu's face, almost as if they were a method of making sure she was real. The weeping Nanu returned the kisses. Mark's head began tilting slowly on an angle as he watched, because the kisses were becoming slower, and seemingly more meaningful and; affectionate. "Well, now;” Becky said as she watched intently. "Hello, ancient Egypt." Nanu and Kiya were now absorbed in a very deep kiss, holding one another tight. Mark could see their tongues rolling around the insides of their cheeks. The whimpers of crying had given way to muffled moans while their hands wandered up each other's backs and came to rest on their ass cheeks. Still they kissed one another almost hungrily. Mark leaned in closer to Becky and whispered to her. "I get the feeling they really missed each other." The sisters finally broke the kiss, more for needing oxygen than any other consideration. They pressed their foreheads together, panting heavily as they stared into one another's eyes. Their lips were still glistening from the kiss they'd shared. Nearly a minute had passed before Kiya pulled her head back and looked at her little sister in renewed wonderment. "Nanu;” she managed to say. "How; what are you;” "Do you like it?" chimed Nanu, stepping back just far enough to do a twirl and display her raiment. The gold she wore on her neck, arms and ankles tinkled almost musically. "I have lots more." "We; mom and dad sold you;” Kiya said, still gaping. "They; they sold you as a slave. What miracle of the gods is this?" "Oh, the best kind," the younger girl quipped, giggling. "But I don't wanna explain this ten times, so why don't you get everyone over here? I'll have my slaves set up a shelter for us all to sit under." Kiya will still bordering on confused, but she nodded and turned to race back toward the hut, calling out loudly for people. Nanu watched her for a few moments before turning to look at Mark and Becky and smiling. "You two sure missed each other," Mark observed, grinning, while Becky fanned herself. Nanu gave Mark a snarky look and stuck out her tongue. "We were best friends, Kiya and I, we only had each other, really. And then I was gone for ten years. Is it really so surprising that we can pick up where we left off?" "Nah, just some culture shock is all," Mark chuckled as he laid down the packs he was carrying and then began unslinging others from the side of the mule Becky sat on, and the palanquin. "Shall I set up the shelter, your majesty?" Nanu giggled. "I could get used to that. Please!" The porters placed the palanquin on the ground, and began helping Mark set up the shelter. Along with their pay, they'd been promised good food and wine, so they were more than willing to put in great effort. Mere minutes had passed before a shelter was set up on sturdy poles, with curtains that could be fastened to the sides to keep out the dust and wind. Nanu crawled back inside the palanquin while Becky waited just outside. Before long, a group of people was approaching, being led by an eager Kiya. She kept badgering everyone to hurry up, and several seemed more than a little annoyed at her harrying them. They were of various ages, and all dressed similarly to Kiya, in the common wear of Egypt's teeming peasantry. Becky glanced subtly to the side, to look at Nanu. The young Egyptian woman was staring at the approaching throng, her eyes glassy, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. She didn't want to be crying when her family saw her again. Becky drew the curtains closed to give her some time to compose herself. She then stood and waited patiently while everyone approached. They were a rough lot, clearly hardened by a life of toil on one of the endless farms that lined the Nile. There were young men and women, some children who belonged to what she assumed were couples, and some elders laboring to bring up the rear. The crowd stopped near the shelter, and looked at the visitors silently. Becky nodded to them all said then spoke in a clear voice. "Do any of you speak the tongue of Rome?" Silence and blank stares greeted her. Unimpressed, she turned and called back. "Mark, none of them speak Latin, I need you." "Not the last time I'll ever hear you say that," he chuckled as he joined her. She gave him a sour look and swatted his arm. He ignored the assault and called out to everyone. "Has Kiya told you what we're doing here?" Many of the people shook their heads, but still didn't say anything. Mark gave Becky a sidelong glance, and the blonde woman went back to the palanquin, knelt, and pulled aside the curtain. She helped an elegant woman in white out of the vehicle, and she walked forward, holding a gauzy white veil over her head to conceal her features. She approached the group, and an older man finally pushed to the front and addressed her humbly. "How can this humble family serve you, mistress?" he asked. Nanu now pulled the veil over her head, letting them take a good look at her. Kiya looked like she was almost ready to burst. Several faces remained blank for quite some time, but others began to express shock as recognition set in. "Nanu?" asked the man in a quavering voice. "Yeah, it's me, dad," she said, her eyes shining again. "I'm home for a visit." "NANU!" an older woman blurted as she forced her way through the crowd and dashed forward. Nanu quit trying not to cry as she embraced her mother for the first time in more than a decade. Becky pressed her fingers to her lips as she watched and tried not to tear up. Mark just grinned. "Mommy," Nanu choked as she held the other woman tight. "I've missed you so much!" "How is this possible?" her father asked, sinking to his knees. "We; I had to sell you, to those Romans, in order to make enough money to' "The Flavians in Clysma, yes," Nanu affirmed, looking over her mother's shoulder and nodding while the elder woman wept. "And they sent me to Rome, once they discovered I could dance." "You always were a good little dancer!" Kiya gushed, almost bouncing up and down on the spot. Many of the other members of the family were drawing closer now, still gazing in wonder. Her father seemed to be going pale and trembling, though. "Are; are you sent back as a glorious spirit, to punish me for selling my beautiful daughter? Have mercy on me, I' "Dad, stop being so dramatic," Nanu almost complained as she let go of her mother and walked toward him. She hauled him to his feet and placed her tiny hands in his, letting him feel them. "See? I'm still flesh and blood, not a stupid spirit. I'm not a Flavian slave anymore, either. I'm wealthy and I have my own slaves." They all looked at Mark and Becky now. Becky pulled down the fabric around her head, and many of them gasped as her golden blonde hair and sea-blue eyes came into full view. They'd never seen anyone like her before. These were Nanu's slaves? Her father shook his head slowly. "I still do not understand. How did this happen?" "Who cares?" someone groused from the back of the crowd in a gruff, male voice. Nanu knew it right away, and looked up sourly. The crowd parted to let the speaker come forward. It was her eldest brother, Bata, and he was the second eldest of the siblings after Meritites, Nanu's big sister. He'd always been something of a bully toward her. More than something, actually. Nanu and Kiya both had unpleasant memories of the older boy. "We sold you for money, and what good did it do us?" the young man sneered, moving forward now. Nanu took half a step back, clearly intimidated. "The tools we bought were shit, and we're struggling harder than ever. You can't even be sold without fucking things up for your fa' Mark had lunged in and slammed his fist across Bata's jaw, sending him spinning to the ground. Everyone except Becky gasped, and one sister cried out in fright. Mark stood over the downed boy, glowering at him. Bata was holding his jaw, his eyes wide in shock. He could taste blood. "Got anything else to say about my mistress, shitbag?" Mark challenged. Bata glared at Mark before his gaze flicked over to the axe he'd dropped when he got punched. "Oh, please try that, I dare you,", Mark growled, unmoved by the perceived threat. "I'll shove that axe handle so far up your ass that you'll have splinters in your tongue for a month." Bata looked away, unable to endure Mark's glare. The younger man stepped back and let Nanu's brother get to his feet. Bata grabbed a woman by the wrist and stomped off, dragging her behind. Several of Nanu's siblings sighed and were visibly relieved. Mark then stepped back and let Nanu take over again. The Egyptian girl, still a little rattled, took a deep breath, composing herself. She then spoke to her family again. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd never see you again. I thought I'd die, far from home, never to return. I; I want to make sure that mom and dad never have to do anything like that again for our family's survival." Nanu brought her mother back to the family and helped her father stand. They were murmuring to one another and hugged, while people began crying. Several men and women watched on, some passively, some with curiosity. Mark assumed these were spouses who had married into the family since Nanu's departure some ten years ago. Nanu was hugging her oldest sister, Meritites, and sharing kisses with her, although not quite as affectionate as those she'd shared with Kiya. She then hugged and kissed her other siblings; Djoser, Ameny, Khafra, Nefer, Tiaa, Horemheb, Jobra, Anpu, and Senet. Jeebus, Becky thought, trying not to frown as she looked at the mother, whose name was apparently Pypuy. Twelve kids? How did her uterus not just fall right out? Nanu's father, Akhom, still seemed overwhelmed, but maybe that was understandable. He had, after all, clearly made an agonizing decision and it seemed to be revisiting him, even if the circumstances were joyous for everyone else. Nanu had explained to Mark and Becky that selling children into slavery in order for a poor family to survive was not uncommon in Egypt, but clearly it was still painful for all involved. Finally, the greetings ended, and Nanu, with her eyes still glistening, smiled at her family. "Let's eat, I brought lots of food." The shelter Mark and the slaves had erected was large enough to conceal everyone from the sun. They ate bread, figs, fish, and wine. Kiya excused herself and ran back to the house. Even Nanu's father seemed to have adjusted and was now enjoying himself. More than anything, though, there were endless questions. "I got lucky," Nanu said simply. "I know it seems impossible, but look at me. What more proof do you need? I am wealthy now, and not a slave. I came home to let you know, and also to give you money, so that you no longer need to struggle. You will live very comfortably. You could probably even retire from the farm and move into a town or city if you wanted to." "You're not coming with us?" her sister Tiaa asked, looking rather upset. "We just got you back, and you've been gone so long." Nanu looked down at the ground, going silent, wondering what to say. She felt very torn. Here she was, back with the family she'd missed her entire life, and giving them money, but beyond that, she had nothing to back it up; Mistress Aurora and Bonosus, or whatever their real names happened to be, were not her slaves. She had no talents that made her a patrician. She could barely read. She'd come here, so secure in her plan to see her family, alleviate any suffering they were enduring, and then go off on this grand adventure with her new beloved associates. They'd even told her she might be able to see her family again. But now, in this dingy but so comforting environment. She looked up and saw Kiya approaching again, carrying something in her arms. Everyone let her through, and she knelt next to Nanu, smiling. Nanu's eyes went wide. Kiya gently passed her the baby. It couldn't have been more than a year old. "Her name is Nanu," Kiya said softly, her brown eyes shining. "Named after the little sister I thought I'd lost forever." Nanu looked up and her eyes were glassy with wonder. "Who is her father?" Kiya smiled sadly. "The river took him earlier this year, during Akhet. I'm sorry you never met him." "She's beautiful," Nanu murmured, caressing the tiny cheek with her thumb, and feeling her heart thrum in her chest. "So beautiful." "There's all the time in the world now, for you to raise her and love her," her sister said, putting a hand on Nanu's arm. "I know you'll love her as much as I do. We can raise her together, just like we always talked about when we were younger. And I; what's wrong, Nanu?" Tears were now streaming down the younger girl's face as she tried to keep from bursting out crying. Becky found herself trying not to cry as well, even if she didn't understand the language. "I'm; I'm sorry, Kiya," she managed to say, while her sister's eyes teared up, knowing what was coming. "I can't stay, I now have a different life I must get back to. And it's not here in Akhmim, or even Keme itself." "I understand," Kiya rasped, her eyes red as she tried to hold it together. She loved Nanu so much. "Can't take us with you?" "No, I can't," Nanu said sadly, shaking her head slowly as she squeezed her eyes shut, crystalline tears falling onto the linen the baby in her arms was wrapped in. "I don't know how that would work." "Will we ever see you again?" her sister Ameny almost pleaded. "I want to say yes," Nanu replied, her eyes still closed. "But even visiting now was very difficult to arrange. But I promise you, I will try. And if I ever find a way to take you all away from here, then I will. And we'll all live in splendor together forever." Most of the girls were crying at this point, and even a few of her brothers were sniffling. Her mother and father just knelt quietly, looking very forlorn and lost. Nanu handed the baby back to Kiya and hugged her parents tight. "But even if I can't be here, I'm still looking after you, like I promised," she said in an earnest tone. She glanced over at Mark, who nodded and rose, using two of the porters to unfasten sacks from the mule and also the palanquin. When he brought them over, he laid them in front of Nanu, who opened them to display the contents. Her family members gaped in awe. More gold coins than they could have imagined glittered within. "You'll need to be quiet for some time about where it all came from, and not just spread it around, but this'll give even my niece's great-grandchildren a very comfy life if you're not stupid with it," she announced, running her hands through the coinage so they could hear the sound of it. "Like I said, you could become the wealthiest farmers in the region, or become traders in a nearby city. As long as you look after one another, always. Even Bata." "Don't worry about Bata, sis," grunted the second eldest brother, Anpu, looking at Meritites and smiling. She reached over and squeezed his hand. "We'll make Bata behave." "I know," sniffled Nanu, smiling and wiping at her eye. She'd always liked her big brother Anpu. He wasn't a jerk like Bata. "Just protect my sisters, Anpu, and my niece." He nodded, looking proud, since she'd assigned him this task. "Do you really need to leave already, Tahemet?" Djoser asked, calling Nanu by her childhood nickname of 'Queenie'. When they'd all been younger, Nanu, as the youngest, usually got the short end of the stick about everything. So she made up for it by having an active pretend life, where she was a queen, regal and worshipped by all. Meri, the eldest, had given her the nickname, but not in a mocking way, even if Bata used it as such. Nanu considered. Mark turned around and whispered to the porters. "Stay with us another night, and we'll triple your pay and give you all the remaining food." The men nodded readily. Nanu wanted to ask Mark and Becky, but they were supposed to be her slaves for this visit, so she couldn't be asking them. The decision was hers. She opened her eyes and smiled. "I'll stay until tomorrow." Everyone seemed relieved at her proclamation, and they continued eating and drinking merrily. Becky had to admit, they were taking this all in good stride. Then again, when all your deities had bird or reptile heads, there probably wasn't a lot you couldn't take on faith anyway. Mark now conversed with the family (with Nanu's permission), about how Nanu had come into wealth and escaped slavery, not to mention acquiring two exceptional specimens such as himself and Becky for slaves. Mark did something he was becoming distressingly good at and lied. It saved Nanu the hassle, which was just as well, since she spent much of her time holding Kiya's baby and talking quietly with her sister. Clearly they'd been attached at the hip when they were younger, and there was much about one another they were keen to rediscover. Watching them subtly touch each other and hold hands, thumbs gently caressing, brought a smile to Becky's face. She resolved to make sure Nanu got to see her family again. The day had worn on, and Nanu had to remind everyone repeatedly that there was no immediate need to get back to toiling over the barren landscape, since she had come with plenty of money. Evening was upon them, and the family began returning to the dwelling that served as their home. Mark added treated skins around the shelter, converting it into a tent, while Nanu begged Kiya to stay with her for the night, to which the older sister agreed readily. Last of all, she hugged her father and mother, promising to see them in the morning. They took little Nanu with them, leaving Mark, Becky, Nanu, and Kiya alone in the tent. The porters had returned to the boat and would sleep there. Once the flaps were all fastened shut, Nanu and Kiya had almost attacked one another, kissing feverishly, and tearing one another's clothes off. Alex smiled and watched while they took their own clothes off. They lay on a blanket together on their sides, with Mark spooning her. He caressed and fondled her gently while she squirmed her ass back against him and they watched the sisters, small sturdy covered lamps in the corners providing dim illumination. Naked and wrapped up in a tangle of writhing limbs, Nanu and Kiya were continuing to kiss hungrily, moaning the entire time. Hands wandered over forms they hadn't touched in over ten years, and those had probably changed considerably in the interim. They murmured and whispered to one another through the kissing, words Mark didn't try all that hard to make out. Let them have their fun. "Umm, there you are," Becky purred as she felt Mark get nice and hard while watching the show. She reached behind herself and took hold of his hard cock, guiding it to her cunt. She teased it up and down the slippery nether lips before letting Mark press home, and sinking deep inside her. They both moaned with relief at the coupling. Mark kissed Becky's neck and fondled her opulent tits as he began pushing his cock in and out of her slowly. They slowly made love while watching the sisters just to their side rediscover one another, after over a decade apart. Becky smiled as Nanu kissed Kiya deeply, expressing her innermost longings and desires. The younger sister lay on top of the older one, holding one another tight and kissing, their nubile bodies squirming together. "I love watching family reunions," Becky sighed quietly as she flexed her fingers on Mark's hip while he slid in and out of her, still massaging her opulent tits. "Look at them, Mark, they're so in love, and so happy to see one another." "It's certainly a feel good moment," he agreed, loving how she flexed her cunt muscles around him as he pushed him himself back and forth. "Mind you, just about everything involving you is, I find." Becky smiled and reached up to caress his cheek before turning her face to kiss him. While they were engaged in a tongue-lock, Nanu began kissing and nibbling her way slowly down Kiya's soft, responsive body, thrilling to hear the murmurs and whimpers of her sister again. She kissed her tan tits, swirling her tongue around the hard brown nipple, before biting and tugging on it, then giggling. "You can't imagine how long I've yearned to see you with tits, Ki," she said quietly, smirking up at the older girl. "They're everything I've ever hoped for and dreamed of." "Just wait until you see my cunt, then," Kiya replied, shivering beneath her sister's kisses. How she'd missed them! "And let me see if yours has become everything I've ever dreamed of." Nanu nodded and then wiggled around until her hips were over Kiya's face. In the dim light, the older sister could see the tempting twat, glistening with arousal and shaved curiously smooth. It must have been how they did things in distant Rome, of which her little sister was now apparently queen or some such thing. Without a moment's hesitation, she craned her head up and began kissing, sending shudders through Nanu and making her moan. The sisters kissed and lapped at one another, lovers reunited after agonizing years apart. They fell into it naturally, remembering what the other loved and craved, even if their bodies had changed in the interim. Nanu sighed in bliss at the taste of her sister, cloying and sweet on her tongue. She felt Kiya go rigid as one of her fingers slipped inside her twat. They rolled slowly onto their sides, legs locked around each other's head as they sucked on one another's cunt hungrily, lost in mutual pleasure. Mark and Becky kept watching, undulating and squirming as quietly as they could, letting the sisters rediscover their lost love. Nanu and Kiya were moaning into one another's pussies now, little gasps escaping them. They could see Nanu's ass cheeks clenching and pushing forward against her sister's face, even while Kiya slithered her tongue around inside her. They were both trembling and sweating now, bodies shining in the dim, flickering orange light inside the tent. "Ooh, here we go," Becky whispered, her hand reaching back to rest on Mark's neck and help keep her braced against him. "Let's see how long this has been pent up;” Both sisters were shaking now, but still lapping and sucking on each other relentlessly, squeaking and whimpering as they tried to hold out. But their lust would not be denied, and they both keened and strained, finally cumming. Mark and Becky watched in fascinated delight as Nanu bathed her sister's face in her glistening cum, and heard her moaning as Kiya reciprocated. Becky shivered and pressed her ass back against Mark, hard, sighing as she began to cum as well. Mark pressed forward with his hips, pushing his cock as far inside her as he could, pumping his cum deep into her greedy cunt. They squirmed and ground against each other, with Mark biting Becky's neck and her fingers running through his hair. "Umm, Mark;” she cooed, nuzzling against him, loving the feel of his molten cum inside her. "You have no idea how good this feels." "If it's one tenth as good as that, then pretty damn incredible," Mark said, nodding at Nanu and Kiya, who were still kissing one another's pussies, murmuring quietly and caressing. Nanu disengaged her mouth from Kiya's snatch and turned around again, lying on top of her sister as they began kissing again, tasting themselves on each other's lips. Kiya moved her right leg and Nanu her left, shifting around until their gooey pussies were squashed together, which they both obviously found immensely comforting. They ended their kiss, and Nanu looked over at Mark and Becky dreamily, her face shining with cum. "I would like to let Kiya taste you both;” Mark and Becky nodded, remembering that they were still pretending Nanu was noble and they were mere slaves. Mark slowly pulled his cock out of Becky and rolled onto his back. He pulled his teacher on top of him, facing up, with his cock poking up between her legs. The sisters crawled over, with Kiya looking rather hesitant, but trusting her little sister. She gazed at Mark's erect cock and Becky's twat in wonder. "He's huge," she breathed, unconsciously licking her lips. "You're lucky to have such a big cock at your disposal whenever you like, Nanu." "Don't I know it," giggled the younger sister, taking hold of Mark's tool and holding it up for Kiya, while she began kissing Becky's cunt, shivering as she tasted Mark's cum dribbling out of her mistress. "You'll love the taste of this cunt, too." Kiya began experimenting with kissing Mark's cock, which was glistening with his and Becky's mingled cum. The Egyptian girl seemed intimidated by its size initially, but remembered that Nanu clearly loved it, so there must be nothing to fear. Her hand joined Nanu's around the base of the shaft and soon she was sliding her tongue up and down his length, much like Nanu was doing to Becky's sweet twat. The sisters paused to kiss, tongues tangling as they shared the cum they'd both lapped up, humming contentedly into one another's mouth. To watch them, Mark would have sworn they'd done this before. They both stroked his shaft, while Nanu caressed Becky's cunt. The two girls pressed their foreheads together, giggling at some secret between them. Nanu looked at Becky and Mark warmly. "We should sleep, my family will not leave us alone for long. And I want my sister to try fucking you both before we must leave." "I do not want you to go," Kiya sighed. "I just got you back, Tahamet, it breaks my heart that you intend to leave again. Couldn't; couldn't you and your servants stay with us? You could even lead our family, since you are the one with the wealth. We could live wherever we wanted. I wanted to raise my daughter with you, my other half, missing for so long." Nanu's eyes glistened as she looked over at Mark and Becky. The blonde woman smiled lovingly. "Nanu," she said gently in Latin, which Kiya didn't speak. "This is your decision. If you want to stay with your sister and your family, Mark and I will understand. We'll leave the money with you, and even come and visit you when we can." The tear on her cheek was proof of how torn the young woman was by this decision. And it was one she had to make alone, possibly for the first time in her entire life. It had to be terrible for her. Finally, she hung her head for several moments, and when she looked back up, she was smiling. "Ki, I must go back to my life,", she sighed, her mind made up. "Trust me, I really want to stay, or to take you with me, especially you and little Nanu, but it must be this way. I can promise to visit, and that will have to do." "I understand," the older sister choked, nodding as her eyes welled over with tears. "I do. It's just hard. I'm so glad that you're alive and happy. It means so much to me. If the price is sending you away again, I can endure it. For you. For us. You know how in love with you I am." "Same as I am with you," Nanu said, her voice cracking and tears flowing. "Just remember that I'll keep my promise and visit whenever I can." The sisters grappled onto one another and began kissing feverishly, lying on their sides while their hands wandered freely. Mark chuckled and allowed Becky to clamber off him. She went to lie on the far side, spooning into Nanu and making sure she stayed pressed to her sister. Mark, meanwhile, spooned into Kiya, holding her in place against Nanu, while the two girls continued kissing and whimpering into one another's mouths. The two time travelers reached across and rested a hand on each other, smiling and relaxing, waiting for the Egyptian girls to nod off, their lips still pressed together in a forever-kiss. It was a long-overdue night of safety and contentment for the two. It was just dawn now, and Kiya looked like she was going into convulsions as she rocked up and down on top of Mark's cock. It was far the largest she'd ever had inside her, and it felt like it was splitting her open, like a wedge split wood. She could feel crackling and popping in her hips. How did Nanu, who was even smaller than her, endure it? Becky was kneeling right behind Kiya over Mark's thighs, pressed into the smaller girl and smiling wickedly while she molested her tits. Meanwhile, Nanu was kneeling over Mark's mouth, letting him lash her cunt with his tongue, while she faced into her older sister, loving the look on Kiya's face as she was almost fucked in half. Kiya squirmed and writhed, gasping like she was being choked, her eyes rolling up into her head. It wasn't long before her cunt clenched Mark ferociously, and Nanu had to lean forward and kiss her sister before Kiya shrieked in unreal ecstasy and woke up the entire family over and over, three hundred meh-ta away. Mark ground into Nanu's cunt as he arched his hips, pushing up somehow deeper inside Kiya and then cumming, filling her so profusely that she was once again shaking like she was having a seizure. The squishy noises of his cum bubbling out of her filled the tiny tent. Nanu shivered and came on his mouth seconds later. Becky hauled the nearly unconscious Kiya off of Mark's pole, while Nanu leaned down and sucked it clean quickly. She then moved forward quickly to lie between her sister's legs, sucking Mark's cum out of her cunt with a fiendish eagerness. Becky crawled over to join Mark and they watched the sisters quietly. Nanu finished draining Kiya of cum, finally, and crawled over her, nestling down onto her body. Not surprisingly, they were kissing again. "Jeez, you ever seen too people more in love?" he mused, smirking as he lazily caressed her tits while she sat in front of him. "I ain't complaining about the show," Becky replied, nodding and grazing her fingernails along his forearm. "She must really believe in our promise to her if she's willing to leave her sister and niece behind to come with us. I feel slightly bad about it." Mark shrugged. "She wouldn't have even had this choice without us, Becks," he pointed out. "Clearly our offer means a lot to her. 'sides, she knows she can always visit them now, just like we promised. And if the Holmes Field Device won't bring her forward, we can leave her here with them, right?" "I guess that's true," Becky agreed, nodding and just watching. "What is that language they speak to one another when they don't want anyone to understand them?" Kiya asked in a whisper, looking just past her sister's shoulder at Mark and Becky suspiciously. "I don't even know," Nanu confessed. "I've never heard it before. Anywhere." Kiya gazed up into her younger sister's eyes, giving her a skeptical look. "They're not your slaves, are they? There's no damn way two people as magnificent as that are slaves to anybody, forget a dopey little slut of a girl from Akhmim." Nanu sighed. "Fine, you got me," she whispered, pretending to kiss her sister's ear, while Kiya squirmed and held her close. They made a show of grinding their pussies together, giving Mark and Becky something to look at. "They're not my slaves. I was hers, for a little bit. But what they really are is adventurers, from very far away. And they're taking me with them, to share their adventures. Not as a slave, but as one of them." Kiya assessed what her sister was saying for some time, trying to parse it out. It sounded absurd, but then, so was Nanu

Continuing on sources from ancient Egypt, finishing up the instructional literature: "The Instruction of Ptahhotep," and "The Instruction Addressed to King Merikare," and then we move to the dialogues, ""The Eloquent Peasant," and "The Dispute Between a Man and His Ba." Get more at partiallyexaminedlife.com. Visit partiallyexaminedlife.com/support to get ad-free episodes and tons of bonus discussion. Sponsors: Rula patients typically pay $15 per session when using insurance. Connect with quality therapists and mental health experts who specialize in you at rula.com/pel. Visit functionhealth.com/PEL to get the data you need to take action for your health. Get a $1/month e-commerce trial at shopify.com/pel.

Watch every episode ad-free & uncensored on Patreon: https://patreon.com/dannyjones Dr. Max Fomitchev-Zamilov is a scientist, physicist, entrepreneur, musician, poet, thinker, author, and founder of Maximus Energy Corporation. His latest research includes a Metrological study of predynastic Egyptian Stone Vessels where he concludes that some artifacts do in fact exhibit an astonishing level of precision on par or even exceeding that of contemporary machining. SPONSORS https://cornbreadhemp.com/danny - Use code DANNY for 30% off your first order. https://shopify.com/dannyjones - Sign up for your one-dollar-per-month trial today. https://stopboxusa.com - Use code for 10% off your ENTIRE order + BOGO on the StopBox Pro. https://whiterabbitenergy.com/?ref=DJP - Use code DJP for 20% off EPISODE LINKS  @MaximusEnergy  https://maximus.energy FOLLOW DANNY JONES https://www.instagram.com/dannyjones https://twitter.com/jonesdanny OUTLINE 00:00 - Why Max left Russia 08:45 - Developing nuclear technology from scratch 15:11 - "Free energy" & anti-gravity machines 24:33 - Building a nuclear reactor at home 36:42 - Ancient Egypt + sound physics 41:23 - Analysis of Egyptian cut granite 48:48 - Explanation for granite in the King's Chamber of the Great Pyramid 01:00:42 - The Great Pyramid was a space communication device 01:09:26 - Changes in the earth's crust & previous extinction events 01:22:07 - Ancient infrastructure in Russia 01:33:37 - Megalithic sites in Russia 01:48:13 - Egyptians & advanced nuclear technology 02:03:43 - Evidence of nuclear machines in ancient Egypt 02:13:17 - Nuclear isotopes on Mars & breakaway civilizations 02:18:21 - How ancient Egyptians moved huge stones 02:27:49 - Static electricity is key to anti-gravity 02:31:15 - How Egyptian vases were made 02:44:40 - Most Egyptian vases are fake Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

"Our holy Father Longinus lived in the Egyptian deserts during the fourth or fifth century. Among other sayings of his, are the following: A dead man judges no one, and it is just the same with the man who is humble. To someone who wanted to go to live in exile, he replied: Unless you guard your tongue, you will not be able to live in exile wherever you go. To someone else who wanted to live in solitude, he said: If you do not exercise the virtues in the midst of men, still less will you be able to do so in solitude. By his life and his words he taught love of humility as superior to all the works of ascesis, saying: Fasting humbles the body, vigil purifies the intellect and stillness leads to the affliction that baptizes man anew and cleanses him of all sin.   We also owe to him the famous saying: Shed your blood and receive the Spirit." (Synaxarion)

In part 2 of his conversation, host Shai Davidai sits down with Egyptian activist and scholar Dalia Ziada for an to discuss her personal journey, the complexities of Middle Eastern politics, and the aftermath of October 7th. Dalia shares her experiences facing backlash in Egypt for condemning Hamas and supporting peace with Israel, including threats to her safety and her dramatic escape from her home country. The discussion covers the role of the Muslim Brotherhood, the challenges of combating misinformation, and Dalia's ongoing advocacy for peace and education in the US. Through her story, Dalia highlights the importance of resilience, standing up for truth, and empowering the next generation—especially young women—to be courageous and hopeful in the face of adversity. This season is dedicated to Shai's grandmother, Leah Davidai, who passed away earlier this year. Sponsored in part by Iron Dome Coffee, visit www.irondomecoffee.com and use the code HERE I AM for an exclusive discount just for our listeners. Guest: Dalia Ziada Consider DONATING to help us continue and expand our media efforts. If you cannot at this time, please share this video with someone who might benefit from it. We thank you for your support! COMING SOON BUY MERCH! SUPPORT SHAI ON PATREON!https://www.patreon.com/shaidavidai/about?utm_source=campaign-search-results

We're joined this week by artist Rachel Wright of VirtuoSew Adventures. Ancient history, particularly Egypt, is what captivates and drives her embroidery. For Rachel, it's not the finished product that she enjoys. It's the process of developing a piece and the many adjustments that are involved in getting the needlework to tell the story she wants shared and does so in just the right way. When she needs a break from, what is intense work, she turns to canvas work for an escape. Her approach and insight into her inspiration can be explored in her book, “Dreams of Amarna: Stitching an Egyptological Adventure.” According to Anthea Godfrey, Artistic Director, The Embroiderers Guild, “Dreams of Amarna is an inspirational book that explores Rachel Mary Wright’s passion for ancient Egyptian culture and art. Her enthusiasm for reinventing the visual ideas she has come to admire manifests itself in her own textile journey, which will, I’m sure, encourage embroiderers to do the same.”—Gary Listen to the podcast: Watch the video You can listen by using the player above or you can subscribe to Fiber Talk through iTunes, Amazon Music, Spotify, Audible, Google Podcasts, TuneIn, Podbay, and Podbean. To receive e-mail notification of new podcasts, provide your name and e-mail address below. We do not sell/share e-mail addresses. Here are some links: Rachel Wright’s website VirtuoSew Adventures on Instagram We hope you enjoy this week’s conversation with Rachel Wright. We’re always looking for guests, so let me know if there is someone you’d like me to have on the show.–Gary To add yourself to our mailing list and be notified whenever we post a new podcast, provide your name and email address below. You won’t get spam and we won’t share your address.

When the king of Egypt is first introduced in our OT book of Exodus he is not named, nor thereafter. But the book itself in Hebrew is called "Names," and even the midwives are named (Exod. 1:15). Egyptians tended to treat the kings of their enemies the same way. Dr. Oliver Hersey is the 11th president of Jerusalem University College. This college, located on the southwestern corner of Mount Zion, equips for ministry by providing immersive study of the ancient and modern contexts of Israel and the surrounding regions for a deepened understanding of God and his word. B.A. in Classical Languages (Greek, Latin, Hebrew): https://bit.ly/4qXJAsL  M.A. in Biblical Exegesis: https://bit.ly/4i2FEmo 

This sermon examines Genesis 16:1-6, focusing on how Abraham and Sarah's faith began to drift, leading them to rely on worldly solutions rather than trusting God's promises. When Sarah remained barren after ten years in Canaan, she suggested that Abraham take her Egyptian maidservant Hagar to produce an heir, following the cultural practices of their former homeland in Mesopotamia. This decision, rooted in the Hammurabi Code rather than God's covenant, resulted in pride, blame-shifting, and family breakdown. The sermon warns against doing God's work through man's methods, emphasizing that when faith drifts, believers often return to old coping mechanisms and worldly ways, which ultimately leads to chaos and destruction in relationships.⁠CLICK ME: Sermon Outline⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠INSTAGRAM⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TIKTOK⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YOUTUBE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠WEBSITE⁠⁠⁠

The Time Riders: Part 9 Planning Another Vacation Time Travel. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark's Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke'. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. The Retiallis: A gladiator of the Collosseum. Prefers the trident spear and netting, to subdue opponents. Escapes to Sumeria. Rullus: A bulky gladiator of huge physical dimensions. Has an affection for Achilleia. Escapes to Sumeria. Achilleia: A fierce female gladiator. Prefers the whip and sword as weapons. Has a crush on Rullus. Escapes to Sumeria. Roxy stomped out of his room, trying to not slam the door behind her. Once he heard her heading down the stairs, Mark sank onto the corner of his bed and exhaled loudly, another shiver running up his spine. He suddenly had to pee. Had he really told Roxy the truth? He hadn't planned to, but he didn't exactly know what he planned to tell her, either. Now that he thought of it, telling her the truth was even more ridiculous than any appreciable lie he could have come up with, wasn't it? Of course she wouldn't believe him about a time machine, and she was quite reasonable not to. Just because it was true didn't mean she was committing an error in judgment. But now what? He had no idea how long her coerced 'promise' would hold her. She was really hot under the collar, and Roxy didn't take losing well at the best of times. He'd just have to be careful, he supposed. More so. He sighed and looked down at her little weed pipe, still in its baggie. In a moment of panic, when Roxy had been standing over him and threatening to slug him across the jaw, he'd made an instant decision; taking a lesson from his playbook with Becky; and resolved that he would get into Danni's house and filch the pipe, because he knew Roxy kept it there. He'd heard her talking over the phone about it with Danni at various points, and never really thought anything of it. Until now. He was familiar with Danni's house, since she'd been best friends with Roxy since they were little. When the two families were having dinner together, the girls had often dragged Mark upstairs and dressed him in girl's clothes and put makeup on him, like he was a doll for their tea parties. He also knew that Danni's parents didn't care if she smoked, because he'd heard Roxy lament this fact over the phone, wishing her parents were that cool. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do the math of all this in his head. It would take Roxy thirty minutes to reach Danni's house in her car, to ask what the Hell had happened. But Danni would protest, insisting she'd never betray her friend and give Mark the pipe. Then she'd prove it by showing Roxy it was exactly where it was supposed to be, which was taped inside to the top of her underwear drawer. Only it wouldn't be there. Unless Mark went back to Danni's place and stashed it again, before the girls got up to her room. And then got out again. That'd really fuck with Roxy's head, and make Danni think Rox had gone insane. It took eight minutes for Mark to fire up and prime the Holmes Field Device, which was sitting in a corner in the basement that no one ever used. It was dead space, and as safe as any place else could be that wasn't Becky's basement. Eight minutes to prime it and program in the coordinates and the time. Like, literally a minute after he'd apparently gotten the pipe out of there to begin with. What? His mind was almost spinning at the logic flips. He had to return the pipe before he actually stole it? When did he steal it if he hadn't done it before returning it? And did that mean he had to steal it twice? He could account, apparently, for Danni not being in her room the first time, because he'd seemingly gotten away with it. If he landed a minute or so after he had burgled her, he would have the time he needed, he hoped, before she came back from wherever she was. Return it; steal it later, when no one is looking, then return it; I think. He heard the distinct sound of Roxy's Mustang roaring away down the road angrily. He somehow doubted that he had thirty minutes. What if he miscalculated and got caught? The obvious issues aside, how did he explain the Holmes Field Device? Could he explain it? People in this era thought time travel was fanciful sci-fi, after all. What happened then? He dropped the baggie on the bed, clasped his face in his hands and groaned, the number of calculations he needed to do making his head hurt. He really needed to stop pulling his solutions out of his ass, he was going to give himself a time-hemorrhoid. Time was wasting. "Wow, Mark," Becky mused as she sat in her lounger, sipping at the Falernian wine. Her bottles were almost gone, and they'd soon have to go back to their secret place in the woods and get more. It had been a rather involved operation, getting the giant vats aged a certain number of years back in the Roman era, then transporting them into the present and burying them again, so that they had a large stock of perfectly aged wine. "You sure like to play with fire, don't you?" "Tell me about it," he said wearily, as he sat on the couch, long pull drink from his own wine glass. "Can't believe it went off without a hitch." "You were near death that first night with me," Becky said rather somberly, concerned about the stress on her student's face. "And that only required one trip on your part, and my belief in myself. This little circus, however, I'll be amazed if your time cops don't show up to lecture you again. You'd deserve it." "I felt trapped, okay?" he said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He knew Becky was right, and he didn't want to snap at her. It had just really worn him out. He'd lost track of when he was supposed to be there, and how often. He'd eventually concluded that dumb luck had saved him from criminal charges, not to mention any other headaches. "I just; when telling her the truth didn't make her go away, I jumped into my playbook, which at this time, consists of what I did with you." "What would you have done, exactly, if she'd believed you about the Holmes Field Device?" Becky queried, looking at him with interest. He considered and gave a halfhearted shrug. "I guess I knew she wouldn't, because if I told Roxy I was a guy, she'd yank my pants down to make sure. But to answer your question, I; I dunno. I was just really outta options." "I know you know this, Mark, but we obviously have to find ways for you to be even more careful," she said in a gentle tone. "You haven't timelocked yourself yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if you came really close there." "No shit," he muttered, scowling at his glass. "Sorry, just stressed." "Oh, poor baby," Becky cooed, getting out of her seat and coming over to sit down next to Mark. She pulled him into lean on her and then rested his face between her opulent tits, knowing exactly the effect this would have on him. "Just relax, it's all fine now." Mark sighed and nuzzled into her tits, relaxing a little. His teacher's scent and her glorious softness had a calming effect on his frazzled nerves. "Uhd, we should go on vacation in some remote time for a year or so. I could use it." Becky giggled, stroking her fingers through her student's dark hair. "If only we could." "Well, why couldn't we?" Mark reasoned, still nuzzling and refusing to leave his nest. "We've got a time machine, don't we?" "Mark, a two-week vacation is one thing, but longer stretches are problematic." "Why?" Becky sighed and put down her wine, opting to just hold him while he nuzzled her boobs. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the sensation, after all. She knew that Mark, even though he was at least as experienced a time traveler as she was at this point, was still an eighteen-year-old boy, who had failed her Physics course. He just wasn't good at this stuff yet. But he took her with him readily, and she would have all the patience in the world until he caught up. If he ever did. "Mark, let's say you and I did indeed go on vacation for a year, somewhere in the time stream," she began, still stroking his wavy, dark hair. "And let's say we left tonight." "Sounds good, I'm in," Mark replied in a muffled tone. She smirked and continued. "And we come back after a year, to, say, an hour after we left, no one would notice, right?" "That's the beauty of it," he agreed, nodding in her boobs. "But we'd notice," she pointed out. We'd be a whole year older than when we left. When you got back, everyone would be trying to celebrate your nineteenth birthday, when, in reality, you're twenty. And you're the only one aside from me who knows it. Thanks to my captivity in the Louvre, I'm already a month older than our calendar indicates, so my birthday is technically inaccurate." He paused as he considered what she was saying. "And let's say, God forbid, that the time machine broke down somewhere in the past," she said, her voice taking on a serious tone. "Neither of us knows how to fix it, and there's absolutely no guarantee that we'd be able to find someone who could. What if it took the two of us five years to repair it, against all odds? We'd arrive back, an hour after we left, if we could, and everyone would notice we were magically five years older. I'd be thirty, you'd be twenty-three. We'd both look somewhat older, undoubtedly. How would we account for that?" Mark said nothing, just listening. "The only alternative would be to arrive five years in the future, to make up the difference, but then we've been AWOL with no explanation for five years," she continued. "Sure, maybe you can say you joined the merchant marines without a moment's notice, but what would I say?" She took his chin gently and turned his head to look up into her blue eyes. "We can't mess with the time stream and people's lives like that," she said quietly, almost sadly. "We're not from an era where time travel is the norm and people know what to expect." "You sure know how to take the fun out of time travel, Becks," he sighed, shaking his head. She giggled and cradled him in her bosom again, knowing he didn't mean it. "Silly," she cooed, jiggling her tits against his face a little. "You know better than anyone how much fun I can be in the time stream." "Yeah, that's true," Mark admitted, smiling and turning over on his back to look up at her while he lay in her lap. She was wearing black yoga pants, and a tight tank top and gave her impressive bust lots of breathing room. "But I really could use a little time away, to be honest. This nonsense stressed me out." "I'm sure it did, and hopefully you'll start thinking about these things ahead of time," she agreed, poking him in the nose. "In terms of what we could do, I have been giving the matter some thought." Mark raised an eyebrow. Becky never had bad ideas. Not compared to his, in any event. "I'm all ears." "Hardly," Becky giggled, reaching her hand down to gently cup his crotch beneath his jeans. "Let me explain first. You're not the only one with a predicament, although mine isn't necessarily self-inflicted." "Still listening," Mark said dryly, noticing the cheerful jibe. "It's difficult, being separated by three months the way we are," Becky said, caressing his cheek. "You, the Mark lying in my lap, you're from my upcoming summer. Me, I'm still waiting for the school year to finish. And three times a week, I see you in my classroom, and have to remind myself that the you sitting in that desk is not only still a minor, still, but has absolutely no idea about any of this." Mark said nothing, considering. "And I have to constantly be on guard, making sure I'm not sitting behind my desk, gazing at you dreamily in an off moment, or reminding myself not to sext you from the bathroom." "Damn, now I kinda wish you had," Mark mused, making her snicker. "Silly. What I'm saying, is that I think in the very near future, we'll need to not see each other for three months, as agonizing as that sounds, so that I can catch up with you." Mark screwed up his face as he thought about that. "That does sound sucky." "Oh, it won't be for you," Becky pointed out. "You get to hop on your time machine and return to three months from now, just like you always do every time we meet up. You won't even notice the difference. But you've also very tacitly avoided my future self for now, haven't you?" He nodded. "Yeah, you said to. Not that hard; it's a big city, and you told me where you tend to be at any given time, so it isn't much of a challenge." "Well, I want to catch up," Becky said firmly. "I want us to be on the same relative time frame, so that we don't need to worry about twists and so on, where things can go wrong. And if that means not seeing this you for three months," she whispered, placing her hand gently on his crotch, "and no time travelling for me because you've got the Holmes Field Device, then I'll manage. But it needs fixing, Mark." "Okay, done," Mark agreed, nodding. "But you mentioned something fun, which hasn't come up yet in this presentation so far." "Well," Becky began again. "I was thinking that we really should go and get Nanu and bring her forward with us. "It's not fair to leave her in that villa by herself. She doesn't really know how to look after herself, after all." "But we can keep visiting her," Mark pointed out. "She doesn't understand time travel, she'd hardly notice." "If we keep coming back to the same point in time to visit her, or at least within the same period frequently, it's true that little or no time will have passed for her," Becky said. "But we have our own lives, and goodness only knows when we'll have the time to pop out to Imperial Rome again. Years might pass for us before we can see her. How would we explain how much older we look to her?" "That again," Mark sighed, resenting the mathematical drudgery of time travel. "Yeah, that would freak her out. And as far as she's concerned, I'm still your slave, and she is too." "It's a notion I'll have to disabuse her of, once we bring her back here," Becky confirmed. "But I was thinking we'd have some fun when we go back and get her, and then she could stay with me. I'd spend our three months apart teaching her about our time and world, and when you meet us, we'd all be caught up together. Sound good?" "Well, I can't imagine it not being fun if you're around," Mark replied, grinning and sitting up, feeling considerably better after this talk with his teacher. "What're we gonna use to get the funds?" "Well," Becky said, making a cute show of thinking. "I've actually checked with that chroniques dealer? The one over on Adelaide that we were directed to?" "You've been busy!" Mark laughed, putting his arm around her shoulder. "I like to be prepared," she purred, snuggling into his side. "Anyway, I told him about my complete collection of Monchhichi minis that I inherited from my older cousin when I was young. Never did anything with 'em, because they just took up shelf space. But he's willing to give me a lot of money for them, apparently they're huge in the thirty-third century." "Well, of course they are," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "I; what the Hell are they, anyway? Never heard of 'em." "Oh, just collectible figurines from Japan in the Seventies, they look like cute little lolicon monkeys, along with a plushie toyline and several cartoons," she explained, waiving dismissively. "I couldn't care less about them, and if they make some person happy thirteen hundred years in the future, great. I'm getting lots of money for 'em." "Okay," Mark agreed, shrugging. "I was gonna sell my dad's Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots or Micronauts if we needed the geld. I'd probably get a good price on those, too." "You will," she confirmed. "But my lolicon monkeys are worth more, so we'll use them. So, we'll go see Nanu, tell her what's really up, have a lot of fun, spread my money around, and then bring her back. Sound good? I think two weeks of solid sucking and fucking should make you forget your woes." "I can hardly wait," Mark declared. "Why wait at all, big boy?" she purred again, as she undid his fly and bent her head down while fishing his cock out of his pants. Nanu sighed as she sat on the solium, kicking her legs back and forth slowly as she looked at the mosaic on the floor. It had been over a week now since she had seen anybody, let alone her mistress. As gorgeous as her surroundings were, this expansive villa hidden in the distant hills outside of mighty Rome, she was decidedly lonely. She'd never really spent any appreciable time by herself before Lady Aurora had purchased her from the Flavians. Despite her mistress' unwelcome absence, she found herself smiling as she thought of her. Lovely, lovely Lady Aurora Horatia; tall, with long, golden blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, sensuous lips that were always parted to show her white teeth and radiant smile. Her thoughts turned to the lady's other parts now, and she blushed. She thought of her mistress' lovely neck, supple shoulders, her large, perky bust, trim waist and glorious, tight ass. Nanu felt warm as she pictured Lady Aurora's cunt, which she kept smooth and clean; so unusual for a Roman patrician woman. She had long, strong dancer's legs, just like Nanu. She remembered how captivated she'd been while she watched Lady Aurora dance at the orgy. Bonosus. Lady Aurora's principal slave, and her lover. Dark, wavy hair, and deep brown eyes; he was unnaturally tall, at least to Nanu, with an athletic build, broad shoulders, and a small waist that was hard to the touch; and his cock was huge. It had felt like it was tearing Nanu apart when she rode on it with wild abandon. She came out of her reverie and looked around again, sighing forlornly. The villa was beautiful, with plastered walls covered in colorful frescoes, mosaic floors, indoor bathing chambers and toilets, beautiful gardens, a stream just behind the building, and all the delicious food she could eat. She had all the creature comforts any slave could ever want, but it was still quiet and lonely for her. She looked down at herself, using her fingers to pull slightly at the material of the top of the dress she wore. It was a spare garment, made of quality linen, one of several Lady Aurora had bought for Nanu from the Flavius family. Of course, the slave girl was thrilled beyond words to wear such a thing, and in all ways, she saw her ownership by Lady Aurora as a turning point in her life, the beginning of something wonderful beyond words. She and Bonosus were the luckiest slaves to ever live. But not if she was so very alone. Nanu, born into poverty in the tiny settlement of Akhmim in Egypt, the youngest of twelve children. Sold into slavery to the Flavians at a tender age to help feed her family, she'd lived a hard life, doing the most menial of tasks for the wealthy Roman family at their home in Tepihu, far up the Nile. But then they discovered she could dance, and dance well. She was sent to the principal Flavian household in distant Rome, a place she'd only ever heard of, and could never imagine. She danced for the patriarch and his wife, and they agreed to keep her on, as long as her legs held out. So Nanu danced relentlessly, determined to never return to the misery she'd known before. Within a year, she was the leader of the dancing girls the Flavians owned, and whatever jealousies the other girls might have held were quickly cast aside. Nanu understood that if she treated them all equally, she was more likely to prosper, rather than looking after only herself at their expense. She was lovers with all of them, and it wasn't long before she was fucking the lord and lady as well. Her position was as secure as a slave's could be under such circumstances. True, she was still punished, quite often for things beyond her control. But the Flavians were not overly harsh with her, having her flogged with short, thin reed brooms, to avoid scarring her. It hurt, and she cried, but she inevitably recovered, usually to be fucked by Master Flavius as she soon as she could walk. She left the chair and walked over to a small table, on which sat a highly polished silver mirror. She picked it up and looked at herself, pursing her lips, assessing her features. She'd always concluded that she was at least somewhat attractive, since men (and women) always wanted to fuck her. She was aware that being a highly trained dancer gave her a desirable physique for a slave, and her strong, taut muscles kept her cunt tight. Her tits were not overly large, but were pronounced from her torso, and jiggled when she danced or ran. She thought they swayed nicely when she walked. She had the creamy bronze skin of the people of the Black Lands, children of the pharaohs. Her thick hair was a glossy blue-black, and she kept it trimmed to just past her jaw, in the manner of women in her country. Her eyes were a warm hazel, with tawny flecks many of the other dancing girls described as bewitching and seductive. If only she could- "Well now, if it isn't everyone's favorite dancing slave," quipped a lyrical voice from nearby. Nanu's head snapped around and she cried out in delight as she espied Lady Aurora standing in the door nearby, with Bonuses just behind, looming over her and grinning. Nanu had been so wrapped up in looking at her reflection and feeling sorry for herself that she hadn't even heard them approach. "Mistress!" the Egyptian girl called out as she darted across the room and threw herself into Lady Aurora's waiting arms. "Magistra! How I Have Missed You!" "We've missed you too, Nanu," Becky said softly, hugging the shorter girl and kissing the top of her head while Nanu burst into tears. "I'm sorry we were away for so long." "It felt like forever, mistress, I won't lie," Nanu said, choking back her sobs before pressing her mouth to Becky's and kissing her fiercely. Becky returned the kiss gladly, and the women greeted one another with tangling tongues and wandering hands for nearly a minute before they needed to breathe. Nanu looked up at Becky now, her eyes still wide and wet with emotion. "May I; may I say hello to Bonosus, mistress?" "I'm pretty sure he's counting on it," Becky said, stepping aside and giggling as Nanu flung herself against Mark, kissing him feverishly, but with her hands predictably snaking down his frame and under his tunic to fondle his cock. "Goodness, girl, did those toys I left get no love from you in my absence?" "Oh, mistress, they got loved day and night," Nanu replied, turning to look at Becky since she was being addressed. "But I do not need to tell you that it is hardly the same as the real thing, as to have a real lover. And I am sorry if it makes me sound deficient, but; I am not good at being alone. I am not at all used to it." "Oh, I'm sorry, darling," Becky said as Mark picked Nanu up in his arms and carried her back into the room. Nanu had her arms around his neck, and seemed to be in absolute heaven, now that the two most important people in her life had returned. "But we're back now, and we have no intention of leaving you behind again." Nanu looked curious. "Won't leave me behind again; are we going somewhere, mistress? Are we to leave the villa?" "It will take some explaining, I promise you that," Becky answered, nodding. "But first, I think the three of us should fuck one another stupid all over the villa, don't you?" Nanu's face lit up at her mistress' suggestion and she nodded eagerly. "Yes, mistress! I want to fuck you both until I cannot see or walk straight!" Becky made a grand gesture with her hand, taking in the whole villa. "Then you may pick where we fuck, my love. Anywhere, as much as you please. We await your pleasure." Nanu looked around in almost breathless excitement as Mark put her down. She didn't know where to begin, only that she wanted to fuck Mistress Aurora and Bonosus in every single area of the villa. She'd been so glum that she barely noticed how horny she was. Now the rampant feelings of lust washed over her, and her cunt was shamefully wet. She grabbed Becky's hand and pulled her excitedly along through the house. "This way!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation. "I want us to bathe and fuck!" Becky and Mark laughed as they followed the Egyptian girl into the small antechamber in front of the sudatorium, which Mark and Becky would normally identify as a sauna. They were amazed at the speed with which Nanu had not only removed her own clothes, but also undressed the two of them. Clearly she was in great need and had no intention of waiting. She had apparently lit the fire to heat the small room earlier in the day, for her own use, and now all she had to do was scrub the three of them down before bringing them inside. With a small sponge and rough linen cloths, she did this quickly. She then brought them into the sweat room, which was filled with steam already. Rocks in the little containment chamber over the brazier heated water and caused the steam, while small pouches of herbs hung over the rocks, and wine dripped through them to sizzle and evaporate, giving the steam a heady, aromatic quality that often left guests somewhat drunk. The three now stretched out on the wooden benches that lined the wall, sighing and relaxing for a moment before Nanu's eagerness overtook her. She crawled on top of Becky and kissed her deeply, squirming her body down into her mistress' while they fondled one another. Mark watched on lazily, knowing that the day was young, and it was best that he conserve his strength. Keeping up with Nanu's libido was no small task, not to mention Becky's once she got going. It wasn't long before the two girls were locked in a slippery, trembling sixty-nine, moaning as they lapped at one another's twats and fingered each other's puckered knots. Nanu came so hard she almost shrieked inside Becky's cunt, while the blonde goddess shuddered and speared her tongue deep inside her lover as she came, glazing Nanu's face with her cum. Both girls seemed almost to become puddles, sighing languidly as they lay together, bodies shining with sweat. Through the haze of steam, Mark could see them kissing one another's pussies gently, and the look on Nanu's face could only be described as rapture, mixed with a sense of relief and contentment. She was so happy her mistress had come back to her. But Nanu recovered quickly, turning her head to look at her fellow 'slave', whom she knew as Bonosus. Mark was lying on his side on the bench he occupied, idly stroking his cock. Nanu had already focused on his manhood like an arrow, and managed to extricate herself from Becky without disturbing her mistress' bliss, and crawled across the tile floor on all fours, her hazel eyes glinting. Without waiting, she knelt next to him, moved Mark's hand aside, and took his cock into her grip. She began stroking slowly and gently, before leaning in to kiss the swelling tool lovingly. She swirled her tongue around the head, then up and down the hardening shaft several times, her hand following her tongue. Then she popped her mouth around the head and slowly pushed down, humming as she moved wetly down his length. Mark sighed in pleasure and began running his hand through her raven hair. Becky now watched, caressing her creamy cunt as she gazed over at the lovers. Mark was half on his back, half on his side, while Nanu was kneeling on the floor, bent over and bobbing up and down on his stiff cock. Her tiny hand made a gentle twisting motion on the smooth skin of his shaft, following her warm, wet mouth. Becky smiled, knowing how great it was to give her student head, since she'd done it countless times herself now. Things would be so much easier for them all when she finally caught up with him in the timeline. Mark stroked down Nanu's back and reached her ass, giving one of the tight, perk cheeks a squeeze before nudging her. Nanu took the hint readily and stood up, clambering over Mark's face and looking down his body. The bench wouldn't have been big enough for Mark and Becky to do what was now happening, but Nanu was considerably smaller than Becky, and somehow managed. She leaned down his body, crying out suddenly as Mark pulled her ass cheeks apart and slid his tongue around her gooey cunt. She trembled and squirmed for several moments before composing herself and returning to the task of sucking on his cock hungrily. He was at full mast now, and Nanu's tiny hand could hardly fit around the girth of his shaft. Amazingly, though, she could take his manhood all the way inside her mouth, and down her throat readily. Becky's slave was as gifted as she was shameless, clearly. Nanu grunted as Mark slid one of his fingers inside her ass. Mark had larger hands than most people from her home era, and his finger was larger than some dicks she'd had back there before. Or at least, it certainly felt that way at the moment. She accepted the intrusion willingly, squirming back against his hand, and squeezing her tight tunnel around it while he massaged her cunt and clit with her tongue. She let out little moans, still bobbing up and down while giving Becky a sidelong look with heavily lidded, glazed eyes. Determined to not be left out, Becky slowly rose from her bench and wiggled over across the small area. She observed the setting with a critical eye for several moments, working out the logistics of how to best fit into this carnal puzzle. Just like she could not readily engage in a sixty-nine with Mark on these relatively (to them) narrow benches, she could not straddle him and fuck him to proper effect either. The answer presented itself quickly. She eased Nanu up into a sitting position over Mark's face, and if the slave girl was disappointed in having to relinquish that delicious cock, the feeling quickly gave way to yelps of delight as she sank her cunt even further down onto Mark's tongue, squirming and grinding lustily. Becky pumped and stroked Mark's cock steadily for several seconds, making sure he would stay hard. He was lying down the length of the bench, his tool ramrod-erect for her. She then stood and moved over his midsection, facing out into the tiny chamber. She bent her knees and reached under, steadying his throbbing cock while she guided it to her cuntlips. One she had him in place, she slowly sat down, sighing as he pushed up inside her steaming depths. Her ass come to rest on his hips, while she sat sideways on him, pinned to his cock. She closed her eyes and just savored the sensation for several seconds, her fingers flexing against his stomach and his knee, respectively. She finally opened her blue eyes and turned her head to smile at Nanu, who was moving up and down slowly on Mark's tireless tongue. Becky leaned in toward the slave, who immediately moved her torso forward to meet Becky. They kissed over Mark's long form, tongues tangling while Becky began to move up and down slowly, loving the feel of this unique position with him deep inside her. The threesome slowly squirmed and undulated against one another, time lost within the confines of the tiny, steaming chamber. The dim, amber light of the fire beneath the heated stones was their only illumination, but in this misty, ethereal sitting, it was utter perfection. The scent of spiced wine mingled with the aromas of bodies making love. Becky could taste the wine in Nanu's sweat as she drew her tongue along the girl's collarbone and over her tits. "I think it's about time for you to fuck Nanu and cum in her, Mark," Becky panted after several minutes of churning up and down on his thick rod. She was massaging and groping her tits, or Nanu's as she rode. The Egyptian girl had reached forward and was massaging her mistress' cunt dutifully as well. "It's been a few weeks for her, and you just filled me up this morning." "Relatively speaking," Mark quipped from beneath Nanu's writhing hips. "You sit on the bench and spread 'em, Becks, and she can kneel and lick you. I'll get behind her." Becky had no problem with this plan, and quickly coaxed Nanu off Mark's face, to kneel on the floor in front of her. Nanu's eyes widened with delight as Becky smiled and parted her legs, before reaching down with two fingers to spread her thick nether lips wide, exposing her glistening inner pink to the slave girl. Nanu practically dived in, and Becky grunted and almost jumped, clasping the girl's head suddenly, her feet leaving the floor. "Nuh, fuck!" she wheezed as Nanu began lapping at her like she was eating her last meal before she died. Her fingers gripped Nanu's black hair while she began grinding her snatch against the girl's face desperately. Nanu licked cunt like nobody's business. Mark, meanwhile, had positioned himself behind Nanu, and lined his cock up with her dripping twat, holding her by the ass cheeks. Nanu trembled while he slid his cockhead up and down her slippery lips, and against her tingling clit, making her squeak and whimper into Becky's cunt. He braced her for only the briefest of moments before sliding inside her without any warning, sinking in to the hilt. The Egyptian slave-girl wailed in ecstasy as he forced her wide, pinning her to him. Mark began fucking Nanu with a steady, strong pace, and she yelped into her mistress' cunt with each thrust, even while lapping at her pink twat hungrily. Her face was shining with sweat, and Becky's wetness, her tongue thick with the cloying sweetness of the blonde woman. Nanu's head was spinning in delight. Surely this was the heavenly afterlife? Becky almost curled up on herself, her fingernails threatening to leave grooves in Nanu's scalp as she shook uncontrollably and came, barely able to keep herself from screeching. She slathered Nanu's face in her essence, her entire body tingling with fire. Nanu shuddered and writhed, wailing as she came, her cunt tightening around Mark's cock fiendishly. As if on cue, Mark arched his back, gritted his teeth and growled, pumping all his cum inside Nanu, thrusting strongly. The trio rocked and writhed in depraved unison for close to a minute before Mark leaned forward on Nanu's back, breathing heavily. Becky sighed in exhaustion, sinking down on the bench, her cunt pressing into Nanu's face. The slave girl, pinned in place between her mistress and her fellow slave, simply held still, surrounded by warm, slick flesh and gently caressing fingers. She could still feel Bonosus throbbing deep inside her, and her mistress' cunt oozed against her mouth. She felt so blessed and safe like this. But then she looked up from between Becky's legs, her own glinting with eagerness. "Come! I know where we need to fuck next!" And with that, the Egyptian girl extricated herself from between them and wiggled quickly out of the room. Mark groaned and sagged forward between Becky's tits, and she held onto him wearily. "Now I know why we can't leave her for weeks on end," he mumbled in her cleavage. "Because we won't survive the backlog of fucking we need to do;” Nanu was sitting in the chair, her expression one of bewilderment. She seemed to have forgotten the goblet of wine in her hand, and she sat with her arms and legs tucked in close to her body. Clearly, she was confused and feeling uncertain about what she was hearing. "You're; mistress, you're not a Roman at all?" she asked quietly as she stared at Becky. They were sitting in the atrium of the villa, and it was a quiet evening. Birds sang, and a gentle breeze caressed their faces and the nearby blossoms as it dipped over the villa and into the central opening. Becky shook her head, knowing that this was going to take a lot of patience on her and Mark's part; and even more on Nanu's. Everything she was in the process of telling the girl would sound completely preposterous, even more so than Mark's explanation to his sister the day before. "No, Nanu, I'm not a Roman of any sort," the blonde woman confessed, trying to smile. "And my name is not Aurora Horatia. My name is Rebecca." "Rebekah?" Nanu queried, making a wry face. "That is a Hebrew name." She looked Becky up and down skeptically. "You don't look like a Hebrew." The slave girl looked at Mark. "And your name is not Bonosus, and you're not a Roman either?" He shook his head. "Nope. I'm Mark. And Becks is actually my teacher." Nanu squeezed her eyes shut for several seconds and when she finally opened them, they were filled with worry. "Are; are you going to kill me?" Despite herself, Becky burst into giggle fits at the question. Nanu looked confused, and then slightly irked at the response from her 'mistress'. She thought it was a perfectly reasonable question, under these circumstances. She folded her arms, crossed her legs, and looked off at the sky over the far wall, annoyed. "I'm sorry, Nanu," Becky said finally reining herself in. "I wasn't laughing at you, I mean it. It just wasn't what I expected to hear at all, and we both love you too much to ever consider killing you. Hell, I'm not sure we could if we tried." "Well I don't know what to believe," sniffed the younger girl. "You've bought me, and taken me away from a comfortable, if not happy life, and nearly gotten me killed at least once, and then there was that; thing; that you two ride around on;” "The Holmes Field Device," Becky said, nodding. "It doesn't just take us where we want to go, it allows us to travel through time, which is why we are here at all." Nanu shook her head, indicating that she had no idea what Becky meant. The teacher leaned forward slightly, smiling. They weren't sitting that far apart, but she had allowed for a small amount of distance between them, so that Nanu didn't feel trapped or pressured if she took all this poorly. To be honest, she was taking it surprisingly well, even if she wasn't buying all of it. "Nanu, I apologize for asking simple questions, but please bear with me;” she said quietly, noticing that even if she was listening, Nanu was now staring at Becky's cleavage, framed between her arms while she sat forward. Mark was staring too. Some thing would never change. "You understand the concepts of yesterday, today and tomorrow, yes?" Nanu nodded slowly. "Yes, mistress." "Do you ever wish you could visit days that have gone by?" Becky asked. "Like maybe go back and visit your childhood, or meet some member of your family who was lost years ago? Or even see the Sphinx getting built?" The girl looked confused again. "Suh-finx?" Becky looked at Mark, hoping for some help. He still had the chip that let him speak Egyptian in his head. He pondered the issue for a moment before the tiny computer in his noggin gave him the answer. He looked at Nanu and smiled. "Horemakhet." Nanu's eyes went wide. To see the Horus of the Western Horizon being built by the gods. She shook her head. "What you say is impossible!" Becky smiled now, not blaming Nunu for her disbelief. "Nanu, a long time ago, people would have thought that chariots were impossible, that mastering fire and steel were impossible. But you know they're not just possible, you know that these things are fact." Nanu nodded, willing to listen to her beloved mistress, who apparently wasn't her mistress. But she listened. "Mark and I come from many, many tomorrows away, a time many years from now. That device that we travel on, it allows us to do it." The Egyptian girl screwed up her face, trying to understand. She thought she'd heard outlandish things in her life before, but this was so far beyond her conceptions and experience that it sounded like a ridiculous fable her grandmother would tell her. But she had stepped on the wondrous device, and it had taken them somewhere far away from Rome in the blink of an eye, and back. She could not deny this had happened, even if she didn't understand it. Which brought up a big question for her. "Why do you do this?" she queried, looking at each of them. Mark shrugged. "It's fun to move through time and do things." Another skeptical look from Nanu. "You think it's fun to have the gladiators of Rome try to kill you?" Mark faltered slightly. "I; well, no, not that part." Becky giggled. "No, Nanu, that part is unplanned. Mark and I like to travel to different times, to see important events, and to fuck there." Nanu tilted her head curiously at the statement. "What it so important about fucking in these places?" Becky considered her answer. "There's nothing important about it, you're right. But it's still fun. We love to do these things, because almost no one else can. And hopefully it's exciting but not dangerous. If we didn't do this, we never would have met you, and we wouldn't be fucking you now. And we both wouldn't be crazy about you." Nanu's stomach was in her feet as she thought about what her mis; what Rebekah was saying. She was horrified by the thought now that she might never have met them, they she might not have been bought, or living here, in freedom, and getting fucked to her little heart's content. "But if you are not; not from today;” she murmured, trying to formulate her thoughts around these strange concepts. "Then you will keep leaving me. You might come back, but you will keep leaving." Becky could see the tears welling in Nanu's eyes, and she rose from her chair and moved to sit with the smaller girl, cradling her into her bosom as Nanu tried not to cry. "Oh, Nanu, I'm sorry," she cooed. "I didn't realize how hard it was for you to be alone." "I've never been alone," sniffled the raven-haired girl, wrapping her arms around Becky's waist tightly, unwilling to let go. "My whole life, I've never been alone for so much as a day, never mind a week. It was terrifying. I'm a slave, you know." Becky caressed her fingers through Nanu's hair and kissed the top of her said. "I understand now. And I am sorry. But Mark and I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." Nanu choked back a sob and looked up at Becky, ready to hear what she had to say. "Mark and I want to bring you with us," Becky explained, using a thumb to wipe some tears from Nanu's cheek. "Come back to our time, and perhaps take you with us on our adventures." Nanu's eyes went wide. "L; leave Rome?" Becky shrugged. "Is there anyone left for you to care about?" "Well, no." Nanu admitted. "And as I've already told you, Mark and I are crazy about you, so since we cannot stay here in Rome with you, maybe you should come with us, Becky continued. "I love having you around." Nanu's face lit up at Becky's words, but then a cloud passed over her face as things occurred to her. "But I; know nothing about this place you are from. How would I live?" "Well I would teach you, of course," Becky replied, smiling. "And it'll probably be terrifying at first, since you will see things you cannot even imagine, but Mark and I will protect you and help you learn." "I; would stay with you?" Nanu asked in a voice begging for assurance. Becky nodded. "You won't leave me alone?" The blonde woman smiled. "Well, I might have to step out the door once in a while to go and get food, or go to my job, but I won't leave you alone for days at a time, I promise." Nanu returned to hugging Becky, looking off at the far wall across the atrium. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she thought about what she should do. Did she take these two up on their weird offer? Did she just ask to stay here at the villa, and take her chances about when they could visit? Did she ask to be sent back to the Flavius household? Every option terrified her. She finally looked up at Becky again and drew a deep breath. "Can we; fuck some more, while I think about it?" Becky and Mark both laughed and nodded their assent. It was the most Nanu thing Nanu had ever said. Predictably, Nanu, after much fucking and pondering, had decided to take Mark and Becky up on their offer. Delighted, Becky had declared that they would be doing some shopping first, heading into Rome to get things she wanted. Nanu was always happy to visit the city, she was always enthralled by the sights and sounds around her. "But I; I must point out something," she confessed, looking uneasy. "I know you keep saying that I need not be your slave anymore, but it is not safe for me to walk around freely, Mistress, no matter what you tell me. If you say you don't own me, I am still a slave to them. They'll put me in chains and have me on the auction block again in no time, but probably not before they do awful things to me." "She has a point, Becks," Mark started, shrugging as he fastened his tunic in place. "We may know slavery is immoral, but Rome doesn't give a shit. As far as they're concerned, you're still a patrician woman, and we're still your slaves." "Which brings up another troublesome fact," Becky sighed, building on Mark's premise. "You're the most hated individual in Rome. You defiled a Vestal Virgin;” "Pervert," Nanu said in a low voice, nudging Mark. "You made a mockery of the legal system, and turned the Colosseum into a sexual freak show. I wouldn't be surprised if every soldier in Rome had orders to skewer you on sight." "Hey, I'm not the one who dropped a giant canvas sail on the emperor's head and wiggled my tits at seventy thousand people, you know!" Mark protested. "Well, that part was fun," Becky mused, smirking, lapsing into English for a moment. "So what do we do? I want to go shopping, but without getting you killed." "Yeah, you've got a point there," Mark allowed, looking at the ground as he pondered the issue. Nanu looked back and forth between them as they spoke in their unintelligible gibberish. "Well, we either need a disguise for me, so I don't look like Bonosus anymore, or we need to jump back a few days to before we arrived, and before anyone would know us." "More of your time twists," Becky chided, holding up a finger. "Didn't you learn?" "I know what you mean, but I kinda think we did that," Mark replied. "Don't you remember how you said people were waving at you like they knew you already, and you thought that was weird? That maybe they'd mistaken you for someone else? It's kinda unlikely that they are mistaking you for anyone, Becks. You're as tall as most of the men, and you're like a living embodiment of Venus to them, with blonde hair." "I'm afraid you may be right," Becky sighed, not liking the hypothesis, but forced to admit it was probably accurate. "So we go back maybe a week before we first arrived, do our shopping, and split?" Mark turned and looked at Nanu now. "Nanu, have you been into the city of Rome any time in the last week before you met us? Or anyone from the Flavius household?" "Ooh, good catch, Mark," Becky mentioned, nodding. "Can't have her running into herself by accident, no matter how unlikely." Nanu considered for a moment and then shook her head. "No, before you arrived, it had been more than a month, I think. Master Flavius resented paying the prices they wanted in the city, he usually made us shop in Lavinium, it was cheaper." Mark shrugged. "We could probably do your shopping and find some fun, Becks. Then we'll plan our next move. Sound good?" Becky removed her outfit, letting pool around her feet before sitting down in a low chair. She held out her arms, beckoning for Nanu to join her. The Egyptian girl shed her clothing, and then went to sit naked in her blonde lover's lap, their lovely tits squashing together. They kissed for some moments before Becky smiled at Nanu. "I want to buy you some outfits, Nanu, outfits like I wear. Would you like to dress and look like mistress?" It seemed as though Nanu might faint. Becky was also pretty sure she felt the girl getting wet. She giggled and kissed Nanu's nose. "I'll take that as a yes." Rome. The litter glided through the crowded street, with people dutifully making way for it; whomever was inside was clearly important. The four dark-skinned slaves bearing it on their shoulders walked along silently, seemingly not bothered by the weight within. The litter itself was simple in design, but ornate in appearance, the canopy held aloft on carved poles, and much of it decorated with gold leaf or edging. Diaphanous curtains on all sides obscured the women within. Becky and Nanu lay on their sides, facing in toward one another. Nanu was wearing a beautiful stola, just like Becky, and she gazed down at her raiment in wonder, running a hand delicately over the fabric. Becky smiled as she watched the Egyptian girl while reaching into a bowl between them and putting a grape in her mouth. "Mistress, this is wonderful," Nanu whispered, knowing to not refer to Becky as her mistress too loudly. "I've never felt anything like this in my life, except on someone else." "Well, it's yours, and yours alone, so enjoy it," Becky said cheerfully, enjoying Nanu's elation. She put another grape between her teeth and smiled slyly. Nanu leaned in and took the grape between her own teeth, their lips touching. As Nanu masticated on the grape, Becky opened the gauze-like drapes in the back if the litter and called out gently. "How we doing back there, Mark?" "Oh, just fine, thanks so very much for asking," muttered the student-slave, who trudged along behind the litter, carrying several handbags made of linen and animal skins, filled with shopping goods. His hands and shoulders ached. How the Hell could Becky purchase so much shit in an era that didn't have electronics? "How much farther we got?" "Not too much longer, I think," mused the blonde teacher casually. She wasn't too worried about Mark having to carry stuff, he'd been through worse recently. She'd bought outfits and jewelry, pretty house furnishings, and other curios to take home. She considered what she'd need to buy for Nanu upon their return. Clothes aside, she would somehow need to procure ID for her, some sorts of medical records, and so forth. How did she get any of that done? "Will I like my new life, mistress?" Nanu asked, eating another grape. "I am sure I will love living with you, but;” Becky smiled and caressed her face lovingly. "It will be very, very different, Nanu. And at times it will seem frightening. But there are so many things I cannot wait to show you." "Then I will wait and trust you," the Egyptian girl said softly, giving herself over to her mistress' carefully in her mind. "Because I believe you when you say you love me and want the best for me." Nanu was silent for some time, as if deep in thought. "What's on your mind, darling?" Becky asked, curious. Nanu sighed. "I just miss my family. I have not seen them since I was young. And I dreamed of returning to them one day." Becky smiled. "Oh, you want t

This sermon addresses the "why" behind the Ten Plagues, asking "What's up with that?" regarding God's harsh judgment. The plagues are a revelation (Who is God?), a rescue (fulfilling His promises), and a recompense (judging oppression). They show God rules over humanity, nature, and all other gods. These were supernatural acts, and this message tackles the "why" of their severity.Scripture ReferencesActs 17:25Psalm 50:12Galatians 6:7-8Matthew 7:2Proverbs 1:24-33Exodus 34:6-72 Peter 3:9Ezekiel 33:11Exodus 8:25, 8:28, 10:11, 10:24Key PointsGod Is Not Insecure; His Glory Is Our Good God's commitment to His own glory isn't neediness; it's love. He seeks our worship not because it meets His need, but because it meets our need. When God exalts Himself, He draws us to the only thing that can satisfy our souls. We were designed to worship. Non-worship is not an option; you will worship something. God, in His kindness, offers Himself as the only object that leads to life.God Will Not Be Mocked (Reaping What You Sow) The plagues are a terrifying picture of justice. Egypt is reaping what it has sown. Long before God turned the Nile red, the Egyptians turned it red with the blood of Hebrew infants. Long before God struck the firstborn son, Pharaoh had been killing Israel's sons. This principle is meant to drive us to the Gospel, to flee to God for mercy rather than face the just consequences of our own actions.God's Patience Precedes His Judgment God is "slow to anger" (Ex. 34:6). He is not a short-fused, raging deity. These plagues come after centuries of oppression. He warns repeatedly because He is patient, "not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). His warnings are an act of love.God Will Not Compromise on Freedom Pharaoh tries to negotiate, offering four compromises that are still schemes of the enemy today:Deal 1: "Worship, but stay my slaves." (A faith with chains on).Deal 2: "Worship, but don't go too far." (A private, comfortable faith).Deal 3: "Let the men go, but leave the families." (A faith that doesn't include your household).Deal 4: "Go, but leave your flocks." (A faith that costs you nothing). God refuses every deal. He is committed to total, costly, all-encompassing freedom.ConclusionGod will not settle for a people who worship with chains on. He has not called us to a compromised faith. He is committed to our total freedom, and He paid the ultimate price for it. We must refuse to "play church" and settle for anything less than the complete freedom Christ has purchased for us.Calls to ActionRefuse to Worship with Chains On: Renounce any bondage you've accepted as normal.Reject Compromised Faith: Don't take the enemy's deals. Go as far as God calls.Take Your Family With You: Commit to leading your entire household in worship.Make Your Worship Costly: Refuse to offer God a faith that costs you nothing. Support the show*Summaries and transcripts are generated using AI. Please notify us if you find any errors.

Anwar Sadat was born in the Egyptian Sultanate, came of age during the Egyptian Monarchy, and became president of the Egyptian Republic. He was killed by Egyptian islamists. But who was he? In this Kalam Shorts series, exclusively available for our Patreon subscribers, we delve deep into the man who is known as the last Pharoah of Egypt, and the circumstances that created him. To support us, go to patreon.com/kalampodcastFollow us on Instagram @kalampodcast Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Astrologer and consciousness teacher Mercedes Arnús Arraut explains how astrology and the star chart reveal a hidden design connecting human destiny, awakening consciousness, and the rise of technology in episode 225 of Far Out with Faust.Mercedes Arnús Arraut is an astrologer, consciousness teacher, and founder of The Astral Method, an education platform that bridges Hellenistic, Egyptian, and Vedic astrology with modern psychology and energy work. She guides students in reading their natal chart blueprint as a mirror of consciousness — a map of patterns, ancestral memory, and potential. Her teachings restore astrology's original purpose: a tool for self-knowledge and spiritual awakening.In this conversation, Faust Checho and Mercedes trace astrology's origins and its modern evolution, exploring how the star chart decodes both personal and collective destiny. They examine Carl Jung's insight that “until you make the unconscious conscious, it will rule your life,” and connect that idea to ancient cosmology and today's rise of AI and ChatGPT. Mercedes discusses how Emperor Constantine and the Catholic Church severed humanity's link to the stars, how civilizations like Atlantis fell when they misused technology, and why dream journaling can reopen a channel to higher awareness. Together they uncover how cosmic patterns, free will, and consciousness intertwine in the unfolding story of humanity's evolution.In this episode:

Section 135 - Historical Background: John Taylor and Willard Richards were witnesses to the murder of Joseph and Hyrum Smith. John Taylor was shot several times and fell to the floor but saved his life by rolling under the bed. He was assigned to write the official declaration of the church concerning the assassination. The effort to destroy the Prophet came from two directions: One was from the apostate conspirators within the church, the other was from the gentile mobs outside the church. Once the United States President refused to help the saints, the governors of Missouri and Illinois were emboldened to work together to destroy Joseph Smith. After a failed attempt to kidnap Joseph back to Missouri, Joseph learned that about 200 apostates in Nauvoo conspired together to deliver Joseph to the authorities. This mutiny was led by William Law, second councilor in the First Presidency. They aroused the surrounding communities by publishing outlandish lies in a local paper called the Expositor. Feeling justified by these lies, the Expositor was destroyed by the saints, which further enraged the mobs and conspirators of violating free speech. Joseph and Hyrum fled Nauvoo with the intent of going into the West, but after Governor Ford of Illinois promised to secure the safety of Joseph while sorting out the charges, and promising to actually stay with Joseph in Carthage, Joseph consented to return, even though he knew he was going “like a lamb to the slaughter.” The governor hired the Carthage Greys to guard Joseph even though most of the soldiers were made up of the very mob that wanted to kill him. Then, breaking his promise, Governor Ford left Joseph and Hyrum in the hands of the Greys and fled for Nauvoo. Seeing the obvious setup, the jailor moved his family out of the jail and allowed Joseph and Hyrum to use his bedroom on the upper floor. Around 5:00 PM, about 100 members of the mob rushed past the “guards” and into the jail, stormed up the stairs and tried to force their way through the bedroom door. A bullet fired at the door penetrated into the face of Hyrum who immediately dropped. Willard Richards, John Taylor and Joseph pressed against the door and struck down the gun barrels forced through the small door opening, with bullets pouring into the room from every direction. Joseph knew the mob wouldn't be satisfied until he was dead. Realizing that he might save the lives of his friends, Joseph turned from the door and sprang to the window. He was shot in the back twice from the door and one in the chest from outside. Joseph fell lifeless from the second floor window and struck the cobblestone below. Making certain of his death, four of the mob propped Joseph's body against the well, raised their rifles and shot Joseph point-blank into his chest. Then someone shouted “Here come the Mormons!” and the entire mob fled like cowards back into the woods. Recap: Joseph and Hyrum Smith were martyred to seal their testimony of the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants. Joseph Smith has done more, save Jesus Christ only, for the salvation of men, than any other man. Joseph died innocent and was murdered in cold blood. Just prior to the rushing assassins, Joseph read Ether 12:36-38. The restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ cost the best blood of the nineteenth century. The innocent blood of Joseph and Hyrum will mingle with the blood of all martyrs of ancient times that John saw, and will cry unto the Lord of Hosts until he avenges that blood on the earth. Section 136 - Historical Background: Within 2 years of the murder of Joseph Smith, the saints knew they would suffer the same fate unless they fled to the west. For many years, the leaders of the church had known that eventually the body of the church would have to make a massive migration to the Rocky Mountains. Practically while fleeing the city, the final finishing touch was completed on their beautiful Nauvoo Temple. Over the next few weeks, as mobs grew restless to drive the saints out, over 5,300 saints, at the risk of their lives, delayed their flight in order to receive their temple endowments. Then, amidst the mobbing, burning and violence of the mobs, the remaining saints crossed the Mississippi River in the freezing winter and into the savagery of the unconquered West. Near what is now Omaha Nebraska, a temporary station was established called Winter Quarters. It was here that Brigham Young received the following revelation. Recap: The saints are to be organized in companies, as ancient Israel was organized, in 100's, fifties, and tens, and covenant among themselves and God to obey the commandments. Each company is to prepare themselves for the westward journey, taking a share of the poor and widows. The leading company will cut roads and plant crops on their way for the benefit of those companies who will follow. The Lord assures the saints that their enemies cannot stop them. Just as the Lord saved the Israelites from the Egyptians, so he will save his people in this dispensation. Be honest with one another, be good stewards, be of good cheer with dancing and singing. In times of sorrow, pray unto the Lord. The saints are to be tried to prepare themselves to be faithful for the glory of God. It was needful that Joseph be killed to seal his testimony with his blood. Be faithful, for the kingdom of God has been restored unto you.

The Suffering of the Psalmist      The Psalmist wrote, “Before I was afflicted, I went astray, but now I keep Your word” (Psa 119:67). The word translated “went astray” is שָׁגַג (shāgag). According to HALOT it means “to make a mistake inadvertently, unwittingly…to go astray.”[1] It connotes moral or spiritual deviation (cf. Prov 5:23; Isa 53:6). Ross states, “The verb (שָׁגגַ) is used in Leviticus for unintentional sins; but here it probably includes rationalized, deliberate sins because he was wandering from the way of God. He was not walking by faith in obedience to the word, and so he suffered some affliction at the hands of the wicked; but now he was keeping God's oracle, the word “keep” (שָׁמַר) referring to a meticulous observance of all that God required in his covenant.”[2] The significance is that the psalmist admits he was drifting from obedience, not necessarily into outright rebellion, but into carelessness or neglect of God's Word. The affliction became God's means of correction, turning his wandering into renewed obedience. Thus, the term highlights human tendency to stray and God's faithful use of discipline to restore. A few verses later he states, “It is good for me that I was afflicted, so that I may learn Your statutes” (Psa 119:71). Affliction is seen as a teacher that drives God's people back to His Word. Ross adds, “The psalmist is able to acknowledge that his affliction worked for his good because it forced him to learn more of God's plan revealed in his word. In learning through adversity, he discovered the word God personally revealed in human language was far more valuable than silver or gold [Psa 119:72].”[3] Then, the psalmist states, “I know, O LORD, that Your judgments are righteous, and that in faithfulness You have afflicted me” (Psa 119:75). Ross states: "The affliction he has been experiencing came from God, even though it was through arrogant oppressors. The principle was laid down in the experience of Israel in the wilderness: God tested them to see if they would obey or not (Deut 8:16). Those who understand the ways of God know that ultimately it is his plan to exalt the righteous and destroy the wicked, but that in his wisdom he often humbles the righteous before exalting them."[4]      Taken together, these verses trace the movement from wandering, to correction, to obedience, and finally to worshipful recognition of God's faithful purposes. They teach that affliction, far from being wasted, is a tool in God's hand to sanctify His people and anchor them more firmly in His Word. We don't like trials or suffering, and we often ask God to remove them, much like Paul asked God to remove his “thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor 12:7). However, we find that most of the time God chooses not to remove our difficulty, like He did not remove Paul's (2 Cor 12:8-9), and we must learn that what He does not remove, He intends for us to deal with, and this by faith (2 Cor 12:10; cf. 2 Cor 5:7; Heb 10:38; 11:6). The Suffering of Joseph      Joseph's life stands as one of Scripture's clearest demonstrations of how God employs suffering to shape the faith and character of His people. Betrayed by his brothers and cast into a pit, Joseph was sold into slavery and carried away to Egypt (Gen 37:23–28). There he endured the humiliation of serving as a foreigner in Potiphar's house, and though he prospered by God's favor, his integrity in resisting Potiphar's wife led to false accusations and unjust imprisonment (Gen 39:1–20). Even in prison, where he was forgotten by those he had helped (Gen 40:23), Joseph displayed remarkable faithfulness, refusing bitterness and maintaining trust in God's providential hand. Each stage of his trial pressed him deeper into dependence upon the Lord, refining his character for the weighty responsibilities that awaited him. His hardships were not incidental but instrumental in God's design, preparing him to serve as second only to Pharaoh and to become a channel of blessing to countless lives.      Joseph consistently interpreted his life from the perspective of God's providence, not merely in the well-known statement of Genesis 50:20. When he first revealed himself to his brothers, he sought to comfort them with the assurance that their sin, though grievous, was under divine control: “Do not be grieved or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life” (Gen 45:5). He went further, declaring, “God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on the earth, and to keep you alive by a great deliverance. Now, therefore, it was not you who sent me here, but God” (Gen 45:7–8). In both statements, Joseph acknowledged the reality of human betrayal but deliberately framed it within the larger purposes of God. He viewed his sufferings as divine instruments for the preservation of life and the fulfillment of covenantal promises.      Later, after Jacob's death, Joseph's brothers again feared retaliation, but Joseph reaffirmed the same perspective, saying: “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive” (Gen 50:20). This statement serves as the theological climax of his narrative, demonstrating how God overruled human evil for His own purposes. According to Radmacher, “God works His good plan even through the evil plans of evil people. Even the worst events can be used in the hand of kindly Providence for His good.”[5] Even at the end of his life, Joseph's confidence remained fixed on God's providence. Altogether, Joseph voiced this divine perspective at least four times (Gen 45:5; 45:7–8; 50:20; 50:24–25), revealing a mature faith that consistently interpreted suffering through the lens of God's sovereign care. The Suffering of Moses      Moses' life reveals how God employs prolonged suffering and repeated trials to shape His servants into men of spiritual depth and usefulness. After killing the Egyptian, Moses fled into exile, spending forty years in Midian as a shepherd (Ex 2:15–25). This season of obscurity was not wasted but was God's classroom for humility and preparation. Though Moses had been educated in all the wisdom of Egypt (Acts 7:22), he needed the quiet discipline of the desert to unlearn self-reliance and to grow in patience and dependence on God. The Lord used these years of hiddenness to refine his character and to equip him with the endurance necessary for leading Israel. This long exile reminds believers that God often uses seasons of difficulty, waiting, and obscurity as essential training grounds for future service. Moses would later emerge not as the impulsive prince of Egypt but as the meek servant whom God could use to shepherd His people. Wiersbe states: "The man who was “mighty in word and deed” is now in the lowly pastures taking care of stubborn sheep, but that was just the kind of preparation he needed for leading a nation of stubborn people. Israel was God's special flock (Psa 100:3) and Moses His chosen shepherd. Like Joseph's thirteen years as a slave in Egypt and Paul's three years' hiatus after his conversion (Gal 1:16-17), Moses' forty years of waiting and working prepared him for a lifetime of faithful ministry. God doesn't lay hands suddenly on His servants but takes time to equip them for their work."[6]      When God called Moses to return to Egypt, the trials intensified. He faced the hardened opposition of Pharaoh (Ex 5–12), who resisted every divine demand, bringing repeated conflict and mounting pressure. Beyond this, Moses bore the weight of constant complaints from the Israelites themselves, who murmured against him at the Red Sea and in the wilderness over water and food (Ex 14–17). Such trials might have broken a lesser man, but through them God deepened Moses' humility and dependence. Scripture later records that “the man Moses was very humble, more than any man who was on the face of the earth” (Num 12:3). His humility came as he suffered hardship—first in Midian's solitude, then in Pharaoh's defiance, and finally in Israel's stubbornness. Each trial stripped Moses of self-confidence and taught him to rest in God's power and presence. Thus, Moses' life illustrates that suffering, though painful, is God's tool to produce humility, endurance, and spiritual maturity in His people, preparing them for greater responsibility and usefulness in His service. The pathway to spiritual maturity sometimes runs though the valley of hardship and suffering. Steven R. Cook, D.Min., M.Div.   [1] Ludwig Koehler et al., The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1994–2000), 1412. [2] Allen P. Ross, A Commentary on the Psalms (90–150): Commentary, vol. 3, 523. [3] Ibid., 524–525. [4] Ibid., 529. [5] Earl D. Radmacher, Ronald Barclay Allen, and H. Wayne House, Nelson's New Illustrated Bible Commentary (Nashville: T. Nelson Publishers, 1999), 83. [6] Warren Wiersbe, The Bible Exposition Commentary, Vol. 1, 182-183.

A Treasured Possession Exodus 19:1-6 November 16, 2025 Pastor Tony Felich   ----more---- Exodus 19:1 On the third new moon after the people of Israel had gone out of the land of Egypt, on that day they came into the wilderness of Sinai. [2] They set out from Rephidim and came into the wilderness of Sinai, and they encamped in the wilderness. There Israel encamped before the mountain, [3] while Moses went up to God. The LORD called to him out of the mountain, saying, “Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob, and tell the people of Israel: [4] ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself. [5] Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; [6] and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.' These are the words that you shall speak to the people of Israel.”  God saves us (His people), commands our obedience, and consecrates us as His treasured possession to represent His holy kingdom to the world.   I. God saves us (1-4)  II. God commands us (5) III. God consecrates us (6)

The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean Part #12 The Emerald Tablets of Thoth are a collection of mystical writings attributed to Thoth, an ancient Egyptian deity, and is believed to contain wisdom about alchemy, spirituality, and the nature of the universe.

The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean Part #12 The Emerald Tablets of Thoth are a collection of mystical writings attributed to Thoth, an ancient Egyptian deity, and is believed to contain wisdom about alchemy, spirituality, and the nature of the universe.

The Time Riders: Part 8 A Date With Death. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Into the pit. Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers, who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins, both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He walked ahead of her, his face grave. Domitia wore a simple white tunic now, but all other signs of her former life were gone. Her magnificent braids were undone, and her brown hair hung down her back shamefully. The colors she'd been allowed to wear were missing. In times past, disgraced Virgins had been excoriated, possibly just beaten with a rod, but now, in the height of mighty Rome's power, the punishment was death, for endangering the city. But no one was insane enough to spill the blood of a Vestal Virgin, disgraced or not, so her execution was not so direct. She would be sent underground into a small chamber, with a stock of food and supplies, and locked in there until she starved to death, or succumbed to sickness. They weren't killing her, per se; she was merely shunned until she died. Such was the way of Imperial Rome. Her condemnation and pronouncement of her fate had already been declared, at the beginning of this long walk, meant to be a show of penitence before the face of all Rome. And as humiliated and crushed as she was, her foremost thought was about Bonosus, and his magnificent cock. Even now, being led through the streets, her cunt was wet and ached to feel him buried inside her. Before she knew it, they had arrived at their destination, a small area in the north of the city, with a plot dug into the ground. Stopping at its edge, she looked down inside; the walls were lined with wood, probably to prevent a collapse, and there seemed to be a small stool and a cot within. She heard hysterical sobbing from nearby, and turned her head to see her mother, her birth mother, Pompeneia, weeping from behind the barricade of guards and calling out to her. Domitia's heart ached for a moment, but then she turned her gaze back to the den prepared for her. Her fate was sealed. She glanced over to look at her sister Vestals, but they refused to look at her, staring ahead resolutely. She could see tears in dear Silla's eyes, though; she had hurt the Sisterhood badly, and this was how she was to pay for it. So be it. With all the dignity she could muster, Domitia swallowed her fear and stepped forward, turning and climbing down the ladder, descending roughly ten feet until she reached the earthen floor. There were small candles burning on some stone surfaces, allowing for dim light. She looked upward, and the last thing she saw was the face of the Pontifex Maximus looking down at her, his expression unreadable, before a heavy door was slammed down and locked, cutting off all light and all sound from above. She shuddered at the sound, her stomach twisting in knots. She knew that there was no way out. The door would be weighted, and guards set outside for weeks, to prevent anyone from trying to rescue her. Despite her fear, she looked around, noting the small amount of food supplies left for her, and a small, narrow hole dug in one corner where she was to relieve herself. It wouldn't do to have a Vestal Virgin stinking of shit, even a disgraced one, and even in death. The silence was almost terrifying. She slumped into the small chair left for her, shivering and biting her lip as she felt that her cunt was still wet, the sticky lips parting slightly as she spread her legs. Thoughts of Bonosus returned to her, and she couldn't help but reach down beneath her tunic and begin rubbing her fingers over herself. The fear she felt melted away as she tickled her throbbing clit and teased her warm nether lips. Domitia closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. If she was to die in this hateful place, it would be while cumming, thinking of that magnificent cock, spurting inside her one last time; The wall opposite her creaked and opened, the stout wooden boards pulling away. Domitia almost yelped in shock, but she didn't stop playing with herself. She stared in astonishment as a tall blonde woman came inside, carrying a torch. Following her was Nanu, a slave-girl that Domitia would have sworn belonged to her parents. "Well, hello, Domitia," the blonde woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Lady Aurora Horatia, Bonosus' mistress. Are you ready to get out of here?" Domitia nodded, but then paused, reconsidering as her fingers plunged in and out of her molten cunt. "Can you; give me just a moment here?" the former Virgin asked sheepishly. Into the Arena. Mark winced and squinted as the great gate opened, allowing light to flood into the dark tunnel. The grinding and heaving of the gears that moved the iron-reinforced barriers echoed loudly, and his heart pounded in anxiety. He was almost hyperventilating, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. Maybe taking the adrenalin tab he'd finally found stashed behind a loose brick wasn't such a good idea. And no instructions, either. He reminded himself to punch himself in the face when he saw himself again. Hey, at least he knew he survived. He felt himself shoved roughly out into the arena, looking around in bewilderment as tens of thousands of people all shouted and jeered at him. Part of the huge stadium was cast into shadow because of the giant canvas awning that covered a full third of its seating and the arena in the center. He thought it was called the Velarium, but he wasn't sure. The roaring noise of the crowds hurt his ears, and he felt dizzy. The tab's effects apparently hadn't evened out in him yet. Maybe he should have taken it earlier? Wearing his itchy burlap loincloth, a rope belt, sandals and nothing else, Mark wandered slowly toward the center of the sandy field, his cudgel in hand. The echoing sounds of the crowd were maddening, and he felt almost dizzy. What was the purpose of this damn tab, anyway? Guards approached him. His urge was to run, but where would he go? Trembling, he stood his ground and waited for them. One of them grabbed him roughly and spun him about to face something, shoving him to one knee. Mark gasped, but then looked up and paused. On the other side of the giant stadium, sitting in a shaded box, was a man wearing purple, surrounded by guards and other dignitaries. It had to be the Emperor. The most powerful man in the world. If only he knew which one it was. Maybe he could've gotten an autograph. He chuckled bitterly at his joke, but the guard holding him told him to shut up and slapped him across the back of the head. Mark's eyes snapped open and fury flared through him. He surged to his feet and his shoulder-block knocked the guard backwards, to the astonishment of the audience. The guard and another one nearby drew their weapons and were about to kill him, when trumpets blared from all around the perimeter of the Colosseum. Mark looked around warily, seeing the reaction of the crowds as the two guards withdrew. Drums sounded out now, and more trumpets. He looked over at the emperor, his eyes going wide as he noticed a familiar, stunning blonde woman in a seat next to him and watching Mark with a smirk. Kneeling beside her was Nanu. "Jesus, Becky, there's a million people in Rome; how many did you fuck?" he muttered, scowling. He heard the gates clanking open again and spun to face them, his heart racing again. From the dark tunnel strode a stout, bald man wearing leather armour on his shoulder and a metal-studded skirt, carrying a shield and wielding a small axe. "What is this, fetish night at the Colosseum?" Mark complained loudly as the man began to run toward him. Mark braced himself, watching warily. His earlier anxiety was being replaced by anger, and a desire to either flee or fight. He'd just trust to his adrenalin and hope that his future self knew what the Hell he was doing. The gladiator ran up and swung at Mark, who ducked and came up behind his foe. Before the man could turn, Mark struck him across the back of the head with his cudgel. The man crashed to the ground face-first. The crowd was yelling in outrage and astonishment. Apparently, that wasn't supposed to happen. The man showed no signs of rising, merely stirring feebly and groaning, a huge goose egg rising on the back of his head. Hastily, Mark leaned down and pulled the round wooden shield off the man's arm and pried the axe from his grip. He stood up, trying to control his breathing. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He looked around, making sure no one was approaching him from any other direction, but nobody seemed to be forthcoming. Where was his next foe? It dawned on him that he hadn't been expected to last beyond this first fight. They were probably scrambling to figure out what to do next. Doubtless they'd be finding another gladiator to throw at him. He chanced a glance up at Becky, but she sat still, simply watching him. He didn't blame her; she was supposed to have turned on him, after all. He did notice that she was keeping one leg crossed over the other and bouncing her thighs subtly. Maybe the hormones weren't completely out of her system yet. Or it could have just been normal horny Becky. Who knew at this point? A few seconds later, the gates on another section of the concave wall that surrounded him opened slowly, and out strode a tall man, wearing only a loincloth like himself and greaves, but carrying a weighted net in one hand, and a trident in the other. "Trident!" Mark exclaimed to himself, remembering. "That's what those fucking things are called! Now I can; Hey!" Mark had gotten distracted and only barely jumped out of the way of the retiarius, who thrust his trident, trying to skewer his foe. Mark angrily struck at the man's head with his axe, but he raised the haft of the weapon to block and Mark's axe broke on it. The crowd cheered wildly as it saw what happened. Mark stared dumbly at the splintered handle of his weapon, the iron head missing entirely, having spun off to land in the dust several inconvenient feet away. "What the shit?" Mark shouted angrily as he dodged another attack, keeping his shield between himself and his enemy. The trident's tines glanced off the face of his shield, coming perilously close to ripping open his side. "You mean I can't kill anyone? I'm timelocked from killing someone, even if they're trying to kill me?" He dodged again and scrambled for his cudgel, lying next to the first man he'd knocked unconscious. The man he was fighting was quick, though, and lunged in, jamming his weapon forward and trying to impale Mark through his stomach with it. Mark blocked with the shield, shuddering in panic as he felt the tines burst through the wood and punch out the back side, dangerously close to his belly. But the trident was caught now, and now the two men wrestled back and forth desperately, with the retiarius trying to free his weapon and Mark doing everything he could to prevent that exact thing. Suddenly he realized that he was doing exactly the wrong thing, and simply let go of his shield. The gladiator now held his trident awkwardly, weighed down as it was by the shield embedded on it, and with no safe recourse to get it back. He flailed at Mark with the weighted edges of his net, threatening to break smaller bones if he got in too close. Mark dashed for the cudgel again, and this time his opponent couldn't quickly follow him. Mark picked it up and tried putting the man on the defensive, skirting around him, looking for an opening to strike. The man glared at him balefully, swinging the net if Mark got too close. He's not armored and he can't use his weapon; Mark reminded himself. He flung his cudgel at the gladiator's face and surged in while the man was trying to block the unexpected projectile. His trident was weighted down with Mark's shield, so he was using the net frantically to avoid being struck. Mark plowed into the man and took him down to the ground, using his advantage in height and weight. His foe wheezed as he landed hard on his back, beginning to thrash as Mark straddled his chest and pummeled at him. A lucky punch got through and Mark snapped his foe's head to the side with a right across the jaw. He went to sleep. The crowds were shouting again angrily as Mark stood, recovering his stupid club and taking the man's net, since the shield was wrecked, and the trident was no use since he apparently wasn't allowed to kill anyone. How did time lock know, anyway? He bent over, trying to control his breathing and his pulse. His head was spinning again from the anxiety. What the Hell was his future self thinking, leaving that damn tab to use? What sort of advantage and futuristic superpower was panic? You're pumping adrenalin; it makes runners faster, it makes them run longer; it makes people stronger in a crisis; He opened his eyes and stood, turning around and looking at the thousands upon thousands of people who hated him. Fuck those people. He turned and looked at the emperor and held the weighted net in the air, scowling at the sovereign. "That all you got, asshole?" he shouted, feeling himself get angrier and more aggressive with every moment. Becky could barely hear what Mark was yelling over the noise of the crowds, but she shifted somewhat uncomfortably when she felt the mood of the man next to her darken. "So that's how he wants to play it, hmm?" muttered the emperor, resting his cheek against his hand. "Uppity thing, this boy of yours, Lady Horatia." "Oh, he is no longer mine, great emperor; this behavior, reprehensible as it might be, is unknown to me. Please dispose of the upstart as you see fit," Becky replied, knowing better than to be perceived as defending Mark. "You can count on that, my lady;” he replied, nodding absently as he made some vague motion to a signaler. "If you will excuse me, sire, I must depart for a moment," Becky said, trying to not sound urgent. The emperor looked at her quizzically for a moment: "You would miss his doom?" She made a show of blushing: "His life and death mean nothing to me now, but all this excitement has undone me, sire. I must go and relieve myself, because it wouldn't do to piss myself in your presence." "Very well, then," he said, nodding. "But try to be back soon." Becky stood and bowed before exiting the emperor's spectator box, taking Nanu with her, pulling her along by the wrist. "My lady, is now a good time to see to such functions?" asked the Egyptian girl as she followed the blonde woman. "Is Bonosus not in great danger? I thought you meant to rescue him." "I can't rescue him sitting next to that pompous ass, now can I?" Becky hissed as she strode down one of the hallways. "And keep your voice down; I don't want people to know what we're doing." "Sorry, mistress," Nanu replied, blushing. She allowed herself to be dragged along for several seconds before asking her next question. "What are we doing, exactly?" "You'll see soon enough," Becky said grimly, her blue eyes flashing as she pushed through the throngs of people in the hallways that ran around the length of the Colosseum. "I hope you wore your cock-sucking lips today;” The huge man lumbered towards Mark; he was well over half a foot taller than Mark, and a whole lot heavier. Beneath his layer of fat, he was obviously muscular and very strong. He carried a shield in one hand, a wicked sword in the other. His loincloth was made of tough leather, covered in metal studs. His wide belt was also braced with metal. His right arm was protected from shoulder to wrist by a cauldron and gleaming steel plates. On his head was an intimidating helmet, the face mask looking like something out of "Mad Max: Fury Road," with a peaked top that sported what looked like a curved metal blade or sail. It looked like he was wearing a can opener on his head. "Fuck;” Mark whined to himself as he stood his ground, trying to figure out how he was going to keep from getting killed. He held his cudgel and his net, trying to look threatening, but the gorilla coming at him didn't seem to care. He jumped out of the way as the Samnite slashed with his sword. He tried to move in, but was sent flying backwards when the gladiator suddenly slammed the front of his shield into him. Landing on his back, Mark only had a split second to roll out of the way as the point of his foe's sword drove down into the dirt where'd he'd only just been. He kicked at the man's leg, but it held, and he scrambled away, looking to put some distance between them. "Hey, Jason Voorhies!" he called out, waving his club in the air. "Over here, candy-ass!" The gladiator turned his head to look at him while trying to wrench his blade from the hard-packed earth. He finally did so and stood upright, rolling his shoulders and striding forward again. He slashed with his blade, but Mark dodged once again and then threw his net over his foe. The Samnite got caught in it, but didn't go down, trying angrily to remove it. Mark jumped on his back and began hammering away with his stupid little club. The giant staggered about, flailing wildly to dislodge his smaller foe. The jeering from the crowd was punctuated with increasing amounts of laughter at this ridiculous spectacle. Mark hung on for dear life with one arm wrapped around the man, his other hand whacking away at the foe's helmet. But his own net was preventing the blows from being fully effective, despite the metallic ringing of his strikes. Unable to reach the pest on his back or use his weapons, the huge man simply fell backwards, hoping to crush Mark. It wasn't graceful, and it wasn't pretty, but it did stun Mark long enough to stop him from hitting his foe with his cudgel. "Oh fuck;” Mark wheezed as the Samnite rolled off him and struggled to get up while removing the netting. Mark slowly crawled away, shaking his head to stop the world from spinning. The jellied tissue that was once his lungs was on fire, and strained to get oxygen circulating through him. He heard his foe growl in frustration, and then he felt himself getting grabbed by the scruff of the neck and the back of his loincloth before being hauled completely off the ground; The crowd went wild as the gladiator threw Bonosus bodily to the ground, as if trying to crush his bones with the impact. He picked him up again and dashed him to the hard-packed earth, having given up on removing the net. Mark protected himself from the slams as best he could, but it wasn't helping much, given the strength of the man who was mauling him. The fourth time getting slammed to the ground was about Mark's limit, and the world had become nonsense around him; everything sounded like it was being played in drunken slow motion. His vision swam, and he really just wanted to take a damn nap. He shook his head trying to clear it, remembering that Becky had bought him time, so he'd best not waste it getting rag-dolled by this shit stain. While the Samnite was reaching down for him, Mark managed to roll onto his back and kicked up, hard, between the gladiator's legs. His foot found the man's crotch, and while the force of the blow was lessened by the net's interference, his foe still groaned, and his knees bent. Mark kicked again, and then once more, having finally staggered his foe. The man sank to his knees, holding his crotch. Mark couldn't see his face, but he was obviously in a great deal of pain. Mark staggered to his feet, ignoring the crowd's jeers and screams, focusing only on his foe. The gladiator was now protecting his crotch with his hands, so Mark couldn't kick him there, so he slammed the bottom of his foot into the larger man's chest, knocking him on his back, where he lay moaning. Mark stamped on his crotch for good measure. "Stop, dammit!" wailed the man. "Quit kicking me in the cock!" "Fuck you!" Mark spat, scowling. His chest was on fire and his entire body throbbed in pain. "You were trying to kill me, fuckface! Why should I give a shit what you think?" "I'll stop, I'll stop!" the man pleaded, writhing under the net and totally at Mark's mercy. "Just don't wreck my cock, I was gonna fuck tonight!" "Yeah, right," Mark sneered. "Who were you gonna fuck?" Mark spun as he heard an ululating war cry, and his eyes widened as he saw a woman running toward him, carrying a whip in one hand and a sword in the other. Her spiked hair was wet with blue woad paste, and her eyes were mad with battle lust. "Her;” the Samnite indicated. Becky and Nanu were both on their knees, mouths bobbing back and forth on the cocks of the men they had leaning back against the wall, groaning and pumping their hips. Neither of the men could believe their luck; they thought this would be another boring day for measly pay. From up here, they couldn't even see the action down in the arena well. Sulus and Catullus, two former merchant marines, were charged with keeping the Velarium in place during the spectacles. Their extensive experience with canvas sails made them ideal for this tedious but essential work. At least, that's what they were told, despite the thirty asses a day they received proclaiming otherwise. So imagine their good fortune and delight when this patrician woman and her slave-girl happened to wander on up, espy the two men, and offer to suck their cocks, without even charging them anything! Talk about Saturnalia in Quintilis! Nanu moaned as she swirled her tongue around the head of the cock she was sucking on, holding it by the base of the shaft, her eyes closed. This seemed like an odd time to be doing something like this, but Lady Aurora had been quite firm that it was part of the plan. So be it. Besides, that strange little patch her new mistress had affixed to the skin under her arm was making her so horny right now. Kneeling beside the slave, Becky's free hand reached out and took hold of Nanu's, giving it a squeeze. They continued pushing their wet mouths along the lengths of the throbbing shafts, both girls getting wetter and more aroused with each passing moment. Nanu pulled her mouth off the cock for a moment, sucking in air and breathing heavily as she massaged it with her tiny hand. Her face was flushed as she looked over at her new mistress, her eyes glazed with desire. Becky nodded her assent. Nanu stood quickly and lifted the long trails of her garment, exposing her ass and cunt to the man she'd been servicing. She turned around and leaned back against him, squirming her ass against his cock, making him moan loudly. With great need, she grabbed hold of his tool and speared herself down on it, sighing loudly before beginning to wiggle back and forth on him, shivering as he slid in and out of her. Becky rose to her feet soon after, moving around to face Nanu and leaning forward, with her hands on the slave-girl's shoulders and looking into her eyes. The marine got behind Becky and gripped her hips, pushing inside her. Becky moaned into Nanu's mouth as she kissed her, their tongues tangling hungrily while their tits squirmed and rubbed together. The men held tight and fucked the two women as hard as they could, looking to cum as quickly as possible. Hips smacked against asses and moans grew louder. Becky and Nanu now panted through an open-mouthed kiss, their hands groping one another in need. The Egyptian girl pressed back as hard as she could on the cock she was impaled on, while Becky ground in eager circles, yearning for release. Seconds later they were wailing into one another's mouths, shuddering in ecstasy as the men groaned and began pumping cum inside their wanton pussies. Becky and Nanu were relentless, milking the men for all they were worth, until they slumped to the stone floor, almost insensate from the orgasms these strange women had given them. Straddling the marines now, and facing into one another, Becky and Nanu continued kissing and fondling, even as they moved slowly up and down on the rigid poles they'd been fucking. "Umm, mistress;” Nanu said dreamily, lost in Becky's blue eyes. "I know, my love," Becky murmured, giving Nanu many light kisses on the lips, as if she was unable to help herself. "But we must; smooch; get ready to; do our part; smooch; and rescue Mark;” Nanu pulled back from the kiss and looked up in confusion. "Mark?" "Bonosus," Becky corrected herself, waving it off. "I'll explain later. Now help me get ready;” The crowd was howling with laughter as Mark ran around the arena in a panic, chased by the gladiatrix, who cracked her whip at him, screeching for him to get his ass back there so she could kick it. Mark didn't need oppositional defiance disorder to ignore her demands. The tip of that whip was cracking awfully close behind him. The Samnite he'd downed earlier grunted and flopped down again as Mark stamped on his back while running over him. "Don't try to get up, asshole, you promised!" Mark shouted angrily. "If you do, I don't care if she's trying to kill me, I'll come over there and kick you in the balls so hard you'll be spitting them out!" "Okay! Okay!" the man shouted back, lying on his stomach and waiting. "But I hope she catches you and rips your skin off to wear as a cloak!" "Oh, go sit on a Doric column!" Mark grumbled, deking to the left to try to throw her off. At this point, the crowd was chanting something, what he could only Assume Was Her Name "Achilleia! Achilleia!" "What is that, Latin for Psycho Hose-Beast?" Mark complained loudly, noticing that he had not gained any ground on his foe. He only had the stupid cudgel, whereas she had a wicked sword and a goddam whip. He had the distinct impression he couldn't tire her; she had the look of a woman on a murder mission; her eyes were wild with bloodlust, the scream escaping her lips singing of his gory doom. "She's the greatest female gladiator in Rome!" called out the Samnite, still watching from his confines beneath the net. "She's been more than a match for many men who have fought her!" "Singing my praises doesn't get you more cunt than normal, Rullus!" Achilleia snapped, still chasing her quarry. Gods, this slave could run! Pity she had to kill him, he was well-built and had a great ass! She pressed harder, now swiping with her sword, since using her whip slowed her down some. Like most gladiators, she was wearing little armour, only leather greaves, a leather loincloth, an abbreviated leather cuirass that exposed her midriff but held her tits in place, and a leather cauldron and brace on one arm. A steel fillet around her forehead glittered with glass beads, off-setting her wild blue death-hawk hair. She whooped in triumph as the tip of her sword tore open the back of his loincloth and it fell away, leaving Mark completely exposed as he fled for his life. The crowd was laughing hysterically again. "Dammit, I hate freeballing when I'm running!" he shouted angrily, grimacing as his balls slapped around his thighs. "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!" "Stop running then, coward!" Achilleia taunted, enjoying the view even as she tried to kill him. "I only offer the bliss of death! One red kiss of my blade across your throat, slave, and you; Off!" Done with running, Mark stopped very suddenly and braced himself, hunkering down so that Achilleia plowed into him, completely unprepared. She staggered backward and Mark whirled and grappled onto her, preventing her from using her weapons. The gladiatrix snarled and tried to knee him in the crotch, but he kept his legs judiciously in the way. They tottered and staggered about, vying for control, until they tripped over the Samnite, who was helpless to avoid them. "Oh Fuck!" he wheezed as they landed on him and then rolled off, still tussling. "Welcome to my world, dickface!" Mark shouted back at him, still wrestling with Achilleia, who meant to murder him repeatedly. Out of desperation, and with the effects of the tab still coursing through his blood, he picked her up bodily and threw her to the ground, her sword clattering away. He dropped to his knees instantly, smacking her in the face with his scrotum. "Teabag!" he shouted before whirling around and grappling onto her, trying to subdue her. He hated the thought of punching a woman, but she was trying to eviscerate him, so an exception might be in order. Achilleia was a veteran of the gladiator pits, however, and not so easily dealt with. She recovered and thrashed around, screeching and trying to claw her foe's eyes out. He swatted the whip from her hands before she could strike him with it. Mark found her increasingly difficult to manage, using his weight on top of her body to keep her in place. That plan went south, however, when she wrapped her legs around his waist and began rocking back and forth, until she was on top. They rolled around in the dust while the crowd went insane. Mark had her arms gripped tightly, out to the sides, which forced her body down closer to his. The wild look in her eyes chilled his blood, and she tried to bite his neck repeatedly, to tear his throat out. He countered frantically by using his head to shove hers away from his tender skin, and the result must have looked ridiculous, the two of them pushing and sparring with their heads. "Gurr, let; me; kill; you!" Achilleia hissed, struggling to maintain her balance over her stronger foe. "I'll make it quick, I promise!" "It'll feel good, I promise!" Mark sneered, butting the side of her head to knock it away. "Why would I make this easy for you?" "Gonna; rip you; a new;” Achilleia strained, pushing down harder. She then paused, her eyes going wide with shock. "What; gods, do you have a hard-on?" Mark used the momentary pause to roll her over, her arms pinned beside her head. Achilleia's eyes were still wide as she goggled up at him. Unfortunately, yes, he was hard again. Either he was developing some sort of danger fetish, or the hormones weren't quite as out of his system as he thought. They struggled and thrashed, with the look of shock on Achilleia's face becoming one of irritation, then a weird determination. She wasn't fighting about so much, and she seemed to be pushing with her hips, almost pumping with them. She glared and bit her lip. The roaring of the crowds was slowly abating as they watched the proceedings on the arena floor. What was happening? Seconds ago, the gladiatrix had been trying to kill the slave, now they were; what were they doing? Mark kept her pinned beneath him, and couldn't help but join her in squirming as they glared into one another's eyes. Achilleia was undulating her hips now, her upper body virtually motionless. Mark grimaced at the feel of the toughened leather around her middle grinding on his hard-on. "Dammit;” Achilleia growled. "Let go of my god-rotting hand so I can move my loincloth!" Mark took a chance and let go of one of her hands. It flashed down and pulled aside the leather garment before taking hold of his hard cock and guiding it to her entrance. Without another thought, Mark pushed down, deep inside her. Achilleia wailed loudly and wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling him in deeper still. The entire Colosseum throng had gone silent as the spectators stared, stunned by what they were witnessing. All that could be heard, echoing through the giant stadium, was Achilleia's cries of pleasure. Was this really happening? "Achilleia? What the Hell?" the Samnite yelled in outrage, his girlfriend getting fucked by Rome's most hated slave mere feet away from him. "Shut up, Rullus, he's fucking huge!" Achilleia shouted back, pumping her hips wildly against Mark. The gladiator did as he was told and simply sulked, turning his head to look elsewhere. The emperor watched out stonily, not at all impressed with the turn of events his grand spectacle for the people had taken. He'd heard of the blasphemy this upstart slave had committed, and this was supposed to be a damnation of a great sin. Now it was another blasphemy. And where the Hell was Lady Aurora? He napped his fingers and one of his servants leaned in close, to see what his master wanted. "Have them all killed;” growled the emperor, determined to save face somehow. Mark thrust harder and harder, while Achilleia yelped and bucked beneath him, holding onto his back and with her legs still wrapped around his back. Nearby, Rullus was resting his helmeted head on his hand and rapping his fingers against the packed earth, trying to look bored. Not difficult for a man tangled inside a net. "Any time, you two;” he grumbled. "Oh, cram it, Linzer-head," Mark spat. "Say one more thing and I'll fuck her ass next!" "Oh!" Achilleia wailed, grinding and thrusting against Mark desperately. "I'm gonna; I ‘ Then she seized up and pushed up with all her strength, clenching her teeth so hard they might have cracked. As Rome watched on in stunned silence, the gladiatrix shrieked to the gods and came, hard. Mark shuddered and groaned, pumping profuse amounts of cum deep inside her clenching cunt. He thrust madly, emptying himself into her. Finally, they were both spent. Achilleia lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling, skin glistening with sweat. Mark, exhausted, rested his forehead against her shoulder, too tired to defend himself if she tried to kill him now. Fortunately, his death was the farthest thing from her mind. Seconds of silence passed, before the thousands of spectators in the stands erupted into a wave of cheers and catcalls. Mark smiled and chuckled tiredly. "That can't be good;” he mused. "Nope," she agreed, sighing and biting on a knuckle as the last of the orgasm pulsed through her. "After that, they're certainly going to kill us. All of us. It doesn't matter; I would have died in the arena eventually. At least this way, I died with a cock in me and cumming hard." "Don't be so certain about that;” Mark replied, finally looking up and seeing all the gates opening and dozens of legionaries rushing toward them, spears at the ready. "Ah, I don't like this!" Nanu whined as she shimmied out along one of the corbels that held the vast awning in place. She held on like grim death as she edged forward, a small but sharp knife in one hand. "You can do it, my love," Becky said encouragingly, watching from their original position where they'd fucked the two marines. Both men were still snoozing, but she had tied their hands and feet for extra security. She would have done Nanu's job herself, but she was taller and heavier than the Egyptian girl, who stood a much better chance of succeeding than she did without snapping the braces or corbels. "Look straight ahead and ignore the sounds below." So of course, Nanu looked down. "He's fucking!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "He's fucking the gladiatrix that's supposed to be killing him! I may kill him! He doesn't need saving, I do!" "Nanu, focus!" Becky insisted. "Get to your position and await my signal." "Yes, mistress;” sighed the slave-girl sullenly. Once in position, Nanu held on tight, trying not to think about the dizzying heights she was suspended from. Everyone seemed like ants far below her. Except for Bonosus and his whore of a gladiator; she could see them very clearly, to the place where she could make out his throbbing cock as it thrust in and out of her unworthy cunt. He had a lot of explaining to do when this was over. The crowd was watching in stunned silence, unable to believe what they were seeing. But then Becky and Nanu heard the gladiatrix wailing as she came. Bonosus' groans of pleasure burned in Nanu's ears, while Becky just rolled her eyes, sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd; they'd come for blood and been rewarded with live pornography! Nanu was scowling still, when she noticed the gates opening and legionaries pouring out of them, converging on the five figures in the center of the arena. "Mistress;” Nanu said nervously, her anxiety for Bonosus' well-being overcoming her jealousy. "Now, Nanu!" Becky yelled, making sure her slave could hear her. She was already working frantically to cut through the thick ropes in one of the giant pulleys that moved the Velarium into position. Nanu, meanwhile, was sawing at the edge of the rope that held the corbel she was on in place. She gritted her teeth as she watched the steel knife bite through the thick fiber cable until finally it snapped free. The rope whipped about as it unraveled, causing a cascade of loosening canvas across the broad length of the famed awning. Becky, meanwhile, finished cutting through the rope in the giant pulley she'd selected, dodging hastily as it snapped and flailed about before spinning away. The giant canvas sheets comprising the Velarium buckled and gave way, while the corbels and rope masts retracted rapidly. "Mistress!" Nanu keened, holding on like grim death as the corbel she was on, no longer held in place by the giant ropes, snapped back toward the solid stone walls of the Colosseum. "Jump, Nanu!" Becky called out, standing on the edge of the wall and holding her arms out. "I'll catch you! Trust mistress!" Nanu squeezed her eyes shut and jumped; Becky wheezed as she caught the flying girl, tumbling to the floor with her and holding her tight. Nanu was shivering in her grasp, so Becky just held her for a few seconds and caressed her raven hair. The slave-girl looked up at her savior and nodded, so Becky stood them up, listening to the shrieks of panic as the Velarium floated down relentlessly. "Teamwork, Nanu!" she said excitedly as they stood. "Let's see what happens next!" In the Arena. Mark faced one direction warily, while Rullus and Achilleia stood behind him, squaring off against other legionaries who were closing in. The original gladiator and the retiarius were also conscious and now stood with them, brandishing what weapons they could. Mark felt silly sporting only his cudgel, but it seemed dumb to not let the gladiators have the weapons they were trained with. His cock was still hard, and leaking cum from the tip. He saw Achilleia slowly turning her head to look down at it longingly. "Eyes front, Achilleia!" he snapped, not in the mood to die. She returned to glaring balefully at the encroaching soldiers. There must have been a hundred of the legionaries. That was twenty-to-one odds. He decided to not mention that to his enemies-turned-allies, since he wasn't sure if they understood ratios in any event. If their math was as poor as their hygiene, why bother? "When I thought I'd die in the emperor's sight, this isn't how I pictured it," Rullus growled, brandishing his sword. "I hadn't envisioned dying for that cocksucker at all," Achilleia replied, spitting in contempt at the foes in front of her. "Damned if I'm gonna give him the satisfaction of a clean kill. People will remember this day, to his embarrassment!" The legionaries advanced, the circle tightening. They were protected by their large scutum body shields, and their spears pointed threateningly at the little rebel group. Mark wasn't sure what good he would do here, since he was armed with a club smaller than his dick, and he was the only untrained gladiator. But then he noticed rippling movement above, looked up and grinned. The velarium became dislodged from its moorings and like a vast sail or flag, began floating down over the stadium. People noticed, began screeching in panic, and stampeding. "Right on, Becks;” he said with satisfaction as his day began to look up. The emperor looked up, scowling as he saw the giant canvas sheet descending, fluttering menacingly as it enveloped the upper levels of seating. Panic ensued, with people scampering around pell-mell, trying to escape. "I really hate the gods;” he thought darkly as the canvas touched down around him and everything went to shit. Becky, standing on the edge of the wall and looking down over the chaos and mayhem she had caused, with tens of thousands thrown into panic, cackled gaily and clapped her hands before yanking down her top to expose her tits and holding her arms wide and yelling loudly across her kingdom of madness. "Are you not entertained?" she shouted, reveling in her triumph. God, she'd always wanted to use that line. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Mark shouted as he and his new allies raced down the hallway, shooing everyone in front of him. "Faster, if you wanna live!" The legionaries had forgotten all about the little group of rebels once the madness ensued, racing toward the emperor to rescue him. Mark used the opportunity to escape, bringing his former foes with him. He wasn't terribly interested in seeing them die, and they might prove very useful in getting out of here in one piece. Rullus had led them through a small, little-known door in the wall of the arena, one used generally only by pit masters to monitor the proceedings. His titan frame barely fit in it, but he led the way dutifully. "Where are we going?" Achillea asked, happy to be escaping, but at least wanting to know what the plan was. She had her whip and her sword in hand again. "The most convenient, flat and open space you know of beneath the Colosseum," Mark replied, hurrying along behind her. "A place almost no one knows about or uses." "One of the old training spaces," grunted Rullus. "It hasn't been used in years. Follow me!" Their course took them deeper beneath the stadium, through winding halls and narrow corridors and staircases. They finally reached a wide chamber, in the middle of which stood Becky, Nanu and Domitia. The former Vestal and the slave-girl seemed stunned to see the small party approaching, and the gladiators gaped as Lady Aurora and her slave ran into one another's arms, kissing deeply and feverishly, speaking in some unknown tongue. "Right!" Mark said, finally disengaging from Becky's tongue as he looked around, eyes flashing with determination. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I need you all to trust me. We're going to get you out of here, as quickly as we can." "How?" asked the Retiarius, looking about warily. "They'll find us eventually!" "I know, and what I'm going to say will sound like magic, but just run with it, okay?" Mark replied, walking over to the Holmes Field Device, which Becky had been kind enough to retrieve. He wasn't sure how, but she was better with this temporal shit than he was. And they trusted one another by now. "This contraption will get us out of here, but it's not big enough for all of us at once. I'm gonna take Lady Aurora and Domitia first, then come back for a few more, then the last load." Rullus nodded: "You spared my life, and I entrust you with it. Achilleia and I will go last, holding the room if the enemy comes." "Oh, Rullus;” Achilleia sighed, looking up at the hulking gladiator, her expression a dreamy one, before she suddenly scowled and smacked him on the back of his helmeted head. "You romantic asshole." Mark left them to argue while he hustled Becky and Domitia onto the platform, which was already switched on, lights and readings blinking around the surface. Becky swatted Domitia's hand as she tried to touch a dial. "You know where we're going?" he asked, hoping she had a better handle on this than he did. She nodded, smiling. "Leave it to me, Mark. I think you'll like this solution;” The climate was certainly a change from that of Rome, but it was also a pleasant experience in its own right. The city around them, built of red brick, sandy-colored stone, and studded with stately palm trees, reminded Mark of eastern cities in every movie he'd ever seen. Beyond the walls stretched endless expanses of desert, in which the city stood as a shining jewel in a vast sea of scorching sand. He didn't know why Becky knew to park the machine where she did, but he also knew she had figured out how to use his Holmes Field Device on her own, so he wasn't questioning it. Safe from prying eyes, and after two more trips back to the Colosseum to gather the other rebels, Mark now found himself in an ancient temple in the shape of a ziggurat, with priestesses standing in front of them and bowing. Unlike the Vestals, the white garments of these priestesses were delightfully spare, exposing more than it covered. "Lady Aurora Horatia," one of them said humbly. "Your timing is fortuitous, and we gladly accept your offer. Domitia will be given a new life as a priestess of Nanaya, or as she is known in your tongue, Suadela." The priestesses all walked up to Domitia and kissed her, welcoming her into their sisterhood. The former Vestal shed tears, not in sorrow, but because she had a new beginning. Nanaya, as the goddess was known in this far-flung province, was an ancient Sumerian goddess of sensuality and lust. When the Romans had conquered the land, they readily identified her with Suadela, to keep the peace. The priestess smiled at Mark and Becky again. "And for your generous donation of gold, we will take on your four friends here, to guard our temple, as the garrison makes no effort to do so. They are now, in their own way, lifelong servants and devotees of the goddess." The four gladiators beamed proudly. Since serving Nanaya, even as guardians of her temple, meant food, lodging and getting laid by her harlot-priestesses, they were more than amenable to the idea. "Lady Aurora," Domitia intoned, taking Becky's hands in hers and smiling slyly. "Will you consent to Bonosus and yourself being the first to receive my blessings as a priestess of Nanaya?" "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear;” Becky purred, pulling Domitia into her arms and kissing her deeply. A small villa in Roman Italy; Mark sipped wine from a goblet while Becky lay nearby on a couch, wearing nothing while Nanu sat on a small stool and massaged her feet. The sultry afternoon suited everyone, and they were finally at peace. "Helluva trip, Becks," Mark mused, draining his glass and then pouring more for himself. "You've gotten really good with the Holmes Field Device now. I seriously thought it was me who left the adrenalin tab for my discovery under the Colosseum, but it was actually you." "Sorry to scare you there," Becky sighed, as Nanu worked on her toes individually, sometimes even kissing them as she rubbed oil into them. "I found them in our tab supply, and thought it was our best bet. I just jumped behind a few hours when no one was around and stashed them in that cell for you." "So it wasn't even me coming back from the future to save myself," Mark chuckled. "Here I was so confident that I'd lived, that I couldn't be killed because future-self was looking out for me, but no, it was current you. So I could've been killed at any point, even if time lock kept me from killing anyone else." "It was a little bit messy, but you did survive, and that's what counts." Becky pointed out, caressing one of her tits lazily while enjoying Nanu's exquisite touch. "So what're we gonna do with her?" Mark asked, referencing the Egyptian slave-girl. Nanu had gotten used to her mistress and her manservant speaking in this weird, harsh language, and thought nothing of it anymore; when they needed her, they spoke Latin or her own tongue to her. Becky sighed contentedly and puddled further into the couch. Nanu's foot massages were utter bliss. "I was considering letting her stay here, and simply look after this little villa I bought for me. Whenever we visited, we'd just come back as close to the time we left as possible, but I have no idea if we could guarantee time snarls not getting in the way. So I'm bringing her home with me." Mark raised an eyebrow. "That a good idea? Or even possible?" Becky shrugged. "If she can't be brought with us, the Holmes Field Device won't work, right? So we care for her here. If it does allow it, I'll keep her with me in my house and teach her about her new world. I'll just say she's a foreign student bunking with me." "Literally, I might add." Mark quipped, holding up his goblet and winking. "Oh, you," Becky giggled while Nanu shed her clothes and crawled over Becky, straddling her hips and beginning to squirm their pussies together slowly. "I don't think she's gonna give up on the notion of being my slave-girl any time soon; it seems to make her feel safe. If she asks about you as a slave, I'll say I freed you." "Well, I was pretty enslaved to you for a while there," Mark chuckled. "Funny, I remember being so in love with you while those tabs were in effect, and I remember it fondly. But at this point, I'm just back to feeling like you're my dear friend, and I love you, just not in love any more, ya' know?" Becky sighed and nodded as she placed her hands gently on Nanu's tits and caressed them while undulating beneath the slave-girl. "I know what you mean. Talk about exhilarating, right? We should do that again at some point, just for funsies." "I'm in," Mark agreed, as his cock hardened from watching the two girls make love. He put down his wine, stood up and moved in behind them, kneeling at the bottom of the couch and sinking his cock deep inside Becky, making her moan as he started to slide in and out of her. "And what about our other acquisitions?" he asked, caressing and squeezing Nanu's ass while he fucked his Physics teacher. "Uh, the clothes we'll keep at my place, for future use," she breathed, loving the feel of Nanu's moist cunt on hers while Mark fucked deeply. She felt Nanu shiver and gasp as Mark pulled out of her and pushed into the slave-girl. "And I bought those big amphorae of Falernian wine, there's twenty-six liters in each. We'll bury them where we know nature has never been disturbed back in our time, and then retrieve them. Voila, Roman wine for dinner every night." "I'm gonna have fun explaining that to my parents;” Mark chuckled as he slid back into Becky, making her cry out. Dinner with Family. Dhallyla stared at the liquid in her glass in wonder while her family sat at the table for dinner. It was quite unlike anything she'd ever tasted before. "Mark, what; what did you say this was called again?" she asked. He shrugged as he ate. "It's a Roman-style wine, called Falernian. Lots of people are recreating ancient alcohol recipes now, so I thought we'd give this a shot. Pretty nice, hmm?" "Very strong," his sister Roxy rasped as she put down her wine glass and made a bit of a face. "Very, very strong." "That's why the Romans and Greeks mixed their wine with water," he chuckled. "Some Roman talked about not being able to bring an open flame near wine because it could catch fire. So I mixed it with water, like the instructions said. Sorry if it's still strong." "Where did you get this again?" his father asked. "Ren Faire," he said easily. "All sorts of brewers and people showing off their wine and beer skills these days at them, so I thought I'd give it a shot, ya' know? Bought a couple of bottles." "It's certainly different, but I can grow to like it," his mother mused. "Make sure you get more before we run out." "I can do that," Mark replied cheerfully. Later that night, he was sitting at his desk in his room, surfing for eras to visit during their next adventure, when the door to his room clicked shut. He turned his head to see his sister leaning back against the door, looking at him pointedly. "Something I can do for you, Rox?" he asked plainly, keeping his eyes on his research. "Now that you mention it, yeah," she said, folding her arms and wearing that insufferable smirk of hers. She never stopped reminding him who the elder sibling was. "So I did some looking around online, and there hasn't been a Ren Faire within five hundred miles of us in the last six months." Mark paused in his surfing and slowly turned to look at his sister. "So," she said, walking slowly toward him. "I figure it's about time you told me what the Hell is really going on;” Loose ends, scores to settle, a moral quandaries abound! It's Your Own Fault You Snooped! Mark didn't speak for several seconds, trying his best to not gape at Roxy. She'd always been somewhat suspicious of him when he did just about anything, but the fact that she'd done actual research this time was something new. She had played her hand, and he was cornered. But still, he found himself not sure what to say. "Well, c'mon, you little trouser snake," moving away from the door and sauntering toward him. She could tell she'd caught him dead to rights about something, but now she needed to find out what it was. "Ya' might as well 'fess up, because I somehow doubt you want mom and dad to know what you're up to." The mere thought brought a shiver to Mark and left a cold sweat on his brow. He swallowed, trying not to panic. Roxy had less mercy in a sibling confrontation than Mike Tyson had in the ring. He thought of the number of times she'd beaten his ass for tattling on her when they were younger, and how she'd always get some brutal form of revenge he was unlikely to forget. And he dreaded the thought of how she could screw this up for him. "I'm almost not wanting to find out, at least for a while, because watching your mind flop around in panic is kinda fun," she said, smirking as she stopped in front of him and leaned forward. "But I need to make a decision about whether the 'rents oughta know, so let's speed this up, okay?" She then turned and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning back on her hands, one leg crossed over the other as she looked at him pointedly. "Spill it, little brother." His mind raced. What could he tell her? She'd caught him in a flat-out lie that he had acquired his Falernian wine from a Ren Faire, and had no doubt pieced together that his other recent exotic acquisitions were likewise not from where he'd claimed. So what were her suspicions? She no doubt was assuming, quite reasonably, that he was involved in some illicit activity that

The Time Riders: Part 7 Becoming A Slave Owner. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark's Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke'. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. Pompeneia looked at Nanu and spoke to her somewhat tersely. "You are now owned by the Lady Aurora Horatia, who has purchased you at a fair price from me. Such belongings as you might have, girl, will be leaving with you when the Lady departs. Understood?" Nanu's eyes widened and she felt her heart suddenly pounding in her chest in shock and delight. Unable to contain her smile, she nodded eagerly. Pompeneia looked back at her guest and smiled. "She is all yours, my lady." Becky looked at Nanu and smirked, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for, girl? Go find that lazybones Bonosus and tell him." Nanu was gone in a flash. Becky turned to look at Pompeneia and smiled wickedly as she leaned her back down on the couch and wiggled her way between Pompeneia's hips, so that her mouth was at her hostess' cunt. "Now, how about I find another way to thank you for your generosity?" she purred as she began sliding her tongue along those sticky lips; Mark was wandering through the darkened rooms of the parts of the house not currently being used by the orgy, still looking for a damn lavatory. Why the Hell did the Romans have such fucked-up house layouts? He'd passed about ten servants' bedrooms already; was he just supposed to piss on one of them? He paused as he heard a quiet noise, one he recognized quickly as sighing. It had been coming from a room nearby, and it was definitely a girl's sigh. Or a really femmy boy slave. You couldn't guess in ancient Rome. Either way, he decided to investigate. He tiptoed forward, looking into various dark rooms he'd passed. He heard another sigh, and then something more akin to a moan. He smiled slyly, identifying the room it had finally come from. He crept up and peered around the open wooden doors to look inside; She had her back to him, but inside the dark chamber, which was obviously a bedroom, was a young woman, with her face seemingly pressed to the far wall, and squirming her hips beneath her expensive clothing and beginning to pant. She had voluminous brown hair worn up on her head, exposing a shapely neck, and her stola dress had ridden up high enough to expose her lush ass cheeks, which were quivering and squeezing while she fingered herself. Grinning, Mark leaned against the door frame and just watched quietly. He wasn't beyond a good show. A tiny point of light near her head finally showed Mark what she was doing; there was a small hole in the wall, big enough for her to see through, and she was clearly watching the orgy happening on the other side. She was also clearly having a great time getting off to it. He liked the sight of her, at least, what he could readily see; she had a great ass, a slender back and shapely legs. Her dark brown hair, worn in several braids, was just begging to be pulled on. He couldn't see her cunt from here, but he could definitely hear how wet she was. He quietly entered the room and glided up behind her. She smelled of iris and roses, a perfume he found thrilling, especially here in this dark room, both of them unseen by the scores of others in the villa. His cock, still hard and throbbing, couldn't wait to be buried deep inside her. He moved in close and pressed up against her, his rigid shaft sliding between her legs. She shuddered in shock and drew in a breath, as if she was about to scream; but he quickly and gently clamped his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other hand around her waist. Her moved his head next to her ear. "You don't need to scream or be frightened," he whispered, feeling her still shaking. "I am the Lady Aurora's servant Bonosus, and I just want to be with you this day;” She turned her head, her eyes wide, as she tried to see him, his hand still loosely over her mouth. Her body was still stiff in possible panic, but she hadn't cried out yet. He smiled at her, trying to assure her he meant no harm. "If I let go of your mouth, will you scream?" he asked. The girl shook her head. For whatever reason, Mark believed her, and removed his hand from her mouth, and his arm from around her waist. She didn't run, but she threw herself against the wall she was standing next to, almost clutching at it as she turned around to face him. Her eyes were still wide, and he could see she was breathing heavily. "See? I'm not gonna hurt you," Mark said, smiling cheerfully. Staying pressed against the wall for safety, she looked him up and down slowly, noticing now that he was quite naked. Her eyes lingered on his erect cock for several seconds, as if captivated by it. He could now see her from the front, and what he was looking at pleased him; she had a pretty face, certainly. Not exotic, like Nanu, nor was she as striking and just plain gorgeous as Becky, but it was a pretty face nonetheless. Her eyes were brown, her cheekbones high, and her mouth sensual and full. The face; he knew it. Lady Pompeneia and Master Flavius! This must be their daughter. He continued looking at her body, noting now that her entire outfit was askew; not only had her dress been pushed up around her hips in front, to allow her to finger herself, but the top of her dress was pulled down, no doubt so that she could play with her pert tits. They were not large, but looked perfectly full on her slender frame, capped with brown aureoles and nipples, which were still hard. She had a tiny waist and womanly hips. He was going to enjoy fucking her. "My name is Bonosus, like I said," he repeated, moving in a tiny bit closer to her. She didn't try to escape, but perhaps flattened herself a little more against the wall. He tried not to seem so forceful. And odd thing, since he was at an orgy, and was already used to just fucking whomever he liked. "Would you tell me your name?" She finally spoke, her voice low and quiet. "My name is Domitia. I am the daughter of your hosts, the Master and Mistress Flavius." "I am very happy to meet you, Domitia," he said, smiling and nodding. In his ear, he could hear the implant translate her name as 'she who is tamed'. He suddenly had a very good feeling about this encounter. "In the name of my mistress' goddess, Feronia, I would ask you to join me in making love." "You; you are kind, Bonosus," she stammered, her face pale, but a flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were no longer wide, but turning glassy. "But I must; I shouldn't;” "I thought today was a day where all people cast aside their inhibitions, and did exactly as they pleased," he reasoned, stepping a little closer, noticing that she did not attempt to move away from him. "I already saw you looking through that hole there;” Now Domitia blushed furiously, turning her head to look at the ground. "I am ashamed; I should not; I shouldn't have been;” "What were you looking at, anyway?" he queried, pressing himself against her, his cock now flat against her belly, separated from her skin only by the fine material of her stola. She shivered as she felt his cock press to her, and her hands reached up and flexed, without touching him. Leaning over her shoulder, her wondrous scent in his nostrils, he closed one eye and peered through the tiny hole in the ochre-painted wall. He smiled slyly as he could see that the hole looked out on the palaestra, the courtyard in which he and Becky (and several others) had been fucking earlier. Even now, he could see a man bending a slave girl over in the shallow pool and fucking her from behind, while two women beyond the pool were lying opposite each other, legs scissored and slithering their pussies together. One of them was sucking on the cock of a slave who leaned over her, moaning and fondling her tits. "Well, you were enjoying yourself, clearly," Mark mused, turning and smirking at her. She looked at him, trying to smile back, but then just blushing and looking at the ground again. At least she wasn't trying to leave anymore. "Would you like to watch through the hole again while I fuck you from behind?" Something in his suggestion made her tense very suddenly, and she looked at him again, her eyes now wide. "I; shouldn't; no, my parents must not know I'm here, they; I should return to my domicile." "Are you married?" he asked, thinking that even if she was, she had showed up at her parents' orgy and was making herself cum, even if she'd been hiding. Marriage didn't seem to be a barrier during an orgy, near as he could tell. By his count, he'd already fucked at least four married patrician women and three plebeian women today. "Yes! No! I;” she stammered, blushing again and closing her eyes. Against her will, she inhaled deeply, taking in his raw, animal scent. Gods, he smelled divinely of sexuality, of carnality, of; heated fucking. It made her instantly wet, and her body trembled in need. "I cannot;” He smiled slyly and could tell that she wanted to stay. Even though she was protesting, he could already feel her hips pressing forward, squirming against him, desperate to finish what she was started when she was alone. She wanted to cum with him. "Then don't say anything," he whispered to her, his hands on her hips now. She shuddered again, her eyes wide and glassy as she gazed up at him. "Let me take care of this for you, Domitia;” He couldn't be sure, but the thought she nodded almost imperceptibly. Her felt her tits press forward against him. Her name means 'She who is tamed'; He took both her wrists in one hand and lifted them, pinning them against the wall over her head. She gasped and shivered, seemingly cowed by his superior strength. Her hips squirmed against him again, her tits heaving as she almost began to pant. Her eyes were flashing now, and he could see lust in them, almost as if it was forbidden and impure. He would give her what she wanted, that was certain. Domitia sucked in her breath as he put his free hand on her tit and fondled her, the soft skin yielding before his touch, his palm brushing over the hard nipple. Domitia bit her lip as she tried to remain quiet, her whole body trembling with a need for release. Mark caressed her other tit as well, pinching the nipple and pulling on it gently, making the brown-haired girl whimper and squeeze her eyes shut. "No; uh;” she gasped. His hand now found her waist and undid the cotton strip that belted the stola, letting it fall away. Domitia was breathing heavily now, especially when he began to pull her dress down, revealing more and more of her body. She gasped loudly as she felt his hard cock pressed against her belly now. She pushed her tits against his chest, squirming with urgency. Her protests made less and less sense by the moment, although he surmised it was just for show. Girls did that sometimes. At least, that's what Becky and other girls he'd fucked had told him. Domitia seemed to be no exception. Her stola now pooled around her ankles, revealing her body. The one flickering brazier in the corner of the room revealed that he had seen correctly; she had a lovely body. Not an erotic fantasy like Becky's, which was the product of the modern era of vitamins, yogurt, quinoa, hemp seeds and CrossFit, but still lush and attractive, and currently given to a deep-seated lust he wanted to fulfill. Her eyes were flashing as they stared up into his, her tits heaving. She bared her teeth as he reached down and cupped her cunt, which was now dripping wet. His finger slid up and down her length, finding her clit and eliciting a gasp. Her hands, still pinned above her head, flexed compulsively. She was breathing heavily now. "Keep your arms above your head," Mark said firmly as he released them and brought his hand down, both of them reaching behind her and taking hold of her ass cheeks. Domitia almost hissed as he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She had readily obeyed, and kept her arms over her head, as if they were still pinned there. Her submission to him seemed very real and complete. Looking into her eyes, he held her steady, leaning her back against the wall while one of his hands guided his cock to her wet entrance. One he felt the engorged tip nestle against her lips, he placed his hand back on her ass cheek and began to push; Domitia breathed deeply as he penetrated, but then shook and whimpered as he encountered a barrier. Mark paused, but then felt her push her hips against him, and proceeded to lean forward against the wall. She shook and cried out, and Mark suddenly slipped deep inside her warmth easily. Holy shit, she'd been a virgin; awesome! She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face against his neck, trembling almost uncontrollably. Seconds later, she lifted her face and look up at him, her eyes glassy. Whatever pain she'd been feeling was clearly gone, now. He could, on the other hand, feel a single, warm trickle of a fluid down the underside of his cock, and the air smelled slightly of pennies now. "You have made me a woman," she murmured, still staring at him. "Let us finish this wondrous coupling now. Fuck me, Bonosus, servant of Lady Horatia;” She put her arms back above her head again, her wrists crossed, as a sign of his power over her. Mark nodded and began pumping slowly, sliding his cock in and out of her. Domitia trembled again, at the feel of him inside her, hard and throbbing, her cunt squeezing around him. She sighed loudly, eyes still locked with his. "A girl could die this way, and happily;” she breathed, squirming her tits against his chest. It was a bit of a strange thing to say, he thought, maybe a little morbid, but teen girls were like that sometimes, with the weird, poetic drama. He'd fucked a goth chick once, and she was; Domitia grunted and began pumping back against him lustily, all her fears of their fucking obviously gone. She was hissing through her teeth, grinding her hips against him as he made a sawing motion with his, pushing deep inside her wanton cunt. He could feel her cunt tightening around him as she found their rhythm, slippery and getting wetter by the moment. She jammed her lips against his and kissed him feverishly, their tongues wrestling between their mouths. He held her tighter, thumping her against the wall each time he thrust his cock deep inside her. She moaned into his mouth, and her warm skin was getting damp with sweat as he took her. She might have been a virgin mere moments ago, but her carnal desires would not be denied anymore. Domitia pushed back for all she was worth, her arms finally coming down and gripping his back. They were still kissing in a frenzy, and Mark was breathing through his nose, his hips smacking against hers. Domitia panted and moaned into his mouth with each thrust, her fingernails raking his back as she fought to get him ever deeper inside her. Her need almost baffled him, because he could feel the head of his cock battering her cervix each time he drove home. The wet sucking sounds her cunt made filled the room, even over the sounds of their groans. Mark was growing warm now, and he could feel that the sex tabs he'd used had already replenished his cum, deep inside his balls. When he did bust, this girl's first experience would see her overflowing with cum, his cum, and it would be glorious. He wanted to bring her out of hiding and over to the orgy. He wanted to fuck her at the same time as he fucked Becky and Nanu. Domitia seized up suddenly, shaking around him and screaming into his mouth while her cunt clenched him ferociously. He kissed her hard, making sure she didn't alert the whole house, and fucked her harder than ever, making her wail into his mouth again. He could feel his own body heating up rapidly, the distinct, tingling boiling in his balls letting him now that orgasm was now unstoppable. Mark pulled her hard against him, pressing into her as far as he could, straining and arching his back. The floodgates burst and he began filling Domitia with his pearly cum, and she panted and almost growled at the release. She churned and writhed on his cock, her frothy essence smearing his entire groin. He felt the peristaltic motions of his inner muscles, spurting his cum up his cock and deep inside his lover, a glorious, blessed release. Best. Orgy. Ever. He sagged against her, breathing heavily, while Domitia went limp in his grip, sighing in deep pleasure. She was no longer raking her fingernails over his back but caressing it gently, almost reverently. It was kind of backwards, since he was supposedly a slave and she was a patrician's daughter, but what the hey, she was a total subbie, right? She purred as she kissed his damp skin, still undulating her hips against him and squeezing his cock gently with her gooey cunt. He held her close, his forehead against her neck while he tried to regain his breath. This orgy was barely half over. There was so much to; The screech from behind them froze his blood instantly. He went rigid for several moments, before his head snapped around and he looked to see who was in the doorway. Gazing at the entwined pair in astonishment, bordering on horror, was Nanu. Still quite naked, her face was frozen in shock, her mouth working soundlessly. Confusion engulfed him, wondering what had caused the slave-girl to have such a caustic reaction to what she'd seen. Was it jealousy? It couldn't be that; she'd watched him fuck plenty of other women today. He looked back at Domitia, and saw that she had frozen as well, pale with what could only be described as terror about their discovery. That confused him too. What the Hell was happening here? Endless feet seemed to come stampeding toward them, and cries of shock now echoed through the house. Master Flavius surged through the door and stopped dead, his eyes wide as dinner plates. "Domitia!" he said in a quavering voice, pointing a trembling finger at the duo. "What are you;" Lady Pompeneia, accompanied by Becky, now bustled into the room. The matron stopped dead upon seeing them, her body shaking. Becky's eyes went wide. "Oh, shit;” she muttered in English. "Father!" Domitia called out, still impaled on Mark's cock, but looking over his shoulder at her parents. "Mother, I;” She made to move, but Mark's tool shifted inside her, and she gasped in pleasure and began wriggling furiously, fucking him again despite their ever-growing audience. People cried out in shock, and Lady Pompeneia's eyes rolled into her head before she fell to the floor in a dead faint. The cacophony grew, with Mark staring in confusion and Domitia grunting like an animal as she fucked her way to ecstasy again, seemingly unable to stop. A patrician woman entered and shrieked, scandalized by what she saw. "The slave!" she called out, aghast. "He has defiled one of Vesta's Virgins!" As if in response, Domitia shook and arched her back, wailing loudly as she came. "Seize that man!" shouted Flavius, his face purple with fury. Free men and slaves both surged forward, grappling onto Mark and trying to yank him away. But Domitia would not be pried off him, howling in protest and still grinding herself madly on his cock, squealing through another orgasm, even as they led the pair away. Most of the crowd followed them out, still clamoring loudly. Some women helped the swooning Pompeneia to her feet, and led her out of the room. Soon, the only people left were Becky and Nanu, who stood in the doorway. The slave-girl stared at her new mistress, who shrugged rather helplessly. Nanu turned and followed the crowd, leaving Becky alone in the room. It was eerily quiet now, the noise of the crazed crowd getting increasingly distant; people yelling in outrage, punctuated by the distinct sounds of Domitia cumming yet again, loudly. Becky finally hung her head for a moment, shaking it and smiling. "Oh, I can't wait to see how this turns out;” she said to herself as she walked out the door. The Wrath of Rome The mightiest city in the world, lord of Europa, teeming with untold citizens, slaves and foreigners. Blessed by Jupiter, greatest of the gods, and fed by the ancient Tiber River, Rome stood glorious and invincible, crowned with seven hills like jewels. Not that Mark could see any of that from his tiny, stinky little prison cell. He sat on the dirty floor, sighing despondently as he looked through the iron bars that separated him from the rest of the world. He'd found a corner that was not sticky with the effluences of previous inhabitants of the cell, crouching up with his knees to his chest. He suspected that the tab he was wearing would protect him from disease and sickness, but he'd be damned if he was taking any chances. He heard grunting and groaning from the cells behind him, then an absolutely disgusting series of splattering noises as someone began crapping themselves messily. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion and stared along the bottom of the wall, making sure nothing was likely to seep through. He turned his head and stared blankly across the small hallway at the cell opposite. Out of the darkness, a deranged, naked man appeared, his wild, scraggly beard greying and caked with God-knows-what. He cackled at Mark and helicoptered his cock at the new prisoner, all the while trying to shake the bars of his cell. Mark shook his head and looked away, finding a spot on the wall to stare at. He noted some graffiti, in Latin, brown with age; it was either dried blood or shit, but he decided he didn't care enough about what it said to get closer. He'd taken off the ratty tunic they'd given him, because it stank and had things crawling in it. Since he'd been arrested and dragged off naked from the Flavius villa, with Domitia still impaled on him, they'd eventually attempted to cover him up; somewhat difficult, since he was suffering from what was essentially medically induced priapism. Even now, he gazed down between his legs, noticing that his cock was still rock-hard. Had the tab malfunctioned? Was he supposed to stay erect this long? What the Hell kind of sex were they having in the twenty-eighth century that a guy needed to stay hard for a day and a night? He closed his eyes and pressed his head against his forearms, trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong; how the Hell was he supposed to know that there was a Vestal Virgin hiding in the damn house and masturbating? He'd heard of Vestal Virgins, of course, but he knew nothing about them. He'd paid attention in History class only moderately more than he had in Physics. Seemingly, he'd done an incredibly bad thing. Like 'fucking a pastor's blind virgin daughter on the altar' kind of bad. As decadent as Rome might have been, you didn't mess with their Vestals. He wished Becky was here. He hadn't seen her since he'd been dragged away from the villa, and he hoped she was okay. He had no idea if she was going to be in trouble or not, since she was supposed to be his owner. He groaned and shook his head, wishing he'd just wake up and this was all a dream; “Damn!” "Shut up in there!" said one guard harshly as he walked by. "Gonna make me, tough guy?" Mark grumbled, once the chip in his head had translated what the guard said, even though he could've probably figured it out on his own. The guard whirled around and stuck his arm through the bars, trying to hit Mark with the cudgel he was carrying. Mark hurriedly dodged out of the way and grabbed the club from the man's hand; the guard's eyes widened as Mark glared down at him, much taller than his would-be assailant. Mark was just over six feet, while the Roman was maybe five-three. The man's gaze dropped to Mark's erection, which pointed at him angrily. "Listen, pal," Mark growled, beyond caring about his hard-on at this point. "Try that again, and I'll shove this club of yours so far up your ass that you'll have splinters in your tongue for a month. Got it?" The man nodded hastily, his face pale. "Good," Mark grunted, shoving the cudgel bac through the bars at him. "Now fuck off and leave me alone." The guard hurried away while the crazy guy across from Mark cackled again and babbled incoherently at his retreating form. Mark slumped back down and continued moping. He'd been in this little crap-hole for the best part of a day now, without food or a chance to relieve himself, unless he chose to piss on the floor. He felt rather justified in sulking. Several minutes passed before he was interrupted once again. "Well, you look pretty grumpy for someone who spent most of yesterday getting laid;” chimed a sweet voice. Mark's eyes flicked open and he stood up hastily, gawking at his Physics teacher, who stood outside his cell, smiling at him in amusement. "Becks!" he said hastily, wiping at himself as if he had clothes on, forgetting that he was naked. "Hi! Uh; I'm glad you're okay!" "It's good to see you too, handsome," she replied, her eyes trailing down to his erection. She was wearing the elegant stola and accoutrements of a patrician woman now, much more modest than her attire just the day before. "Guess your hormones haven't worn off yet, hmm?" "Oh, he's got a mind of his own," Mark muttered, blushing slightly. "Trust me, the lynch mob was quite a libidoectomy. Where've you been?" "Well, once you got carted off, I thought I'd better take a look into what was likely to happen to everyone involved," she stated, seemingly not that concerned. "Roman litigation is a weird thing. They have trials, and you'll have a lawyer appointed to you, but the court of public opinion really counts as well, it seems." "So, I really screwed up when I fucked one of their Vestal Virgins?" Mark asked, trying not to sweat. Becky smiled. "Mark, you had no way of knowing, because she never should have been there to begin with. Vestal Virgins don't, in theory, belong to their parents any more, after they're selected for the honor. For her to be hiding in a room in her parents' house, jilling off, is a huge breach of her vows already, never mind getting caught with you bruising her brainstem." Mark thought about that for a moment. "So; Domitia's in trouble too?" "She's in even more trouble than you, to be honest," replied the teacher, shrugging. "You, you're some shmuck slave who got lucky. Her, she broke Rome's most sacred vows. She might as well have squatted over and peed on the Sacred Flame they protect, to extinguish it. Everyone associates the Vestals with the spiritual well-being of Rome itself. If one of the Virgins is impure, it's bad for Rome." "Damn;” he said under his breath, frowning at the floor. "Well, what about you? Are you in shit at all, because you're my owner?" "Well, not so far," Becky mused. "I'm sure that can change at a moment's notice, if anything goes really wrong." "Really wrong?" Mark exclaimed, gesturing to the cell around him in exasperation. "If this is only moderately wrong, I'd hate to see what's really wrong you're going on about!" "Oh, don't be such a drama llama," she cooed, waving dismissively. "We'll figure this out." "Are you okay, Becks?" he asked, making a wry face as he looked at her. "Last time we were in trouble like this, you kinda She-Hulked out on everyone, remember? You kicked at least five people in the crotch, one of whom was Cardinal Richelieu." "Yeah," she said almost wistfully. "I think my system is flooded with hormones from those tabs, and they're making me pretty mellow. I'm still in love with you right now, for instance." "Well, not to exploit your chemical imbalance here, but what are the chances of you doing something to make sure the man you're in love with doesn't die in this cell?" Mark said rather insistently. "Oh, you won't die in this cell," Becky pointed out. "The Romans weren't big on imprisonment at this point in their history. They're probably either gonna behead you or crucify you." "Becks!" Mark said loudly, going pale and beginning to panic. "You can't let them behead me, I like my head where it is!" "Yes, you are rather attached to it," she giggled. "And don't worry about getting crucified, only I'm allowed to nail you, after all. And speaking of;” She slinked forward, smiling saucily at him, lifting the hem of her long stola, revealing her wet cunt beneath. She turned around, presenting her shapely ass to him and swaying it back and forth while looking over her shoulder at him. "How about you put that stout nail of yours in my tool box?" she purred. "Now?" he exclaimed. "Not like you have anything else to do at the moment, Mark," she pointed out, still wiggling at him. "Move up to the bars and stick it out here;” Ignoring his exasperation, Mark sighed and pressed himself up against the bards, his rigid cock sticking out the other side. Becky lined up her sticky cunt with the head and pushed herself back on it, sighing in bliss as she did. Mark trembled as he penetrated her, having to admit to himself that it felt good to be inside his teacher. Becky closed her eyes as began squirming back against him, sliding his hardness in and out of her cunt. Eighteen hours without sex had felt like eighteen years, no doubt due to the hormones from the tabs. She guessed that their bodies, new to these stimulants from the far future, were not acclimated to the effects just yet; not that she was complaining, mind. She groped and massaged her tits as they spilled out of the top of her stola, reveling in the feel of Mark's lovely cock splitting her wide and touching deep inside. She stood up and pressed back against the bars, keeping his manhood firmly locked inside herself, wiggling and swaying, but also bringing his hands around to her tits, which he now squeezed and massaged in circles, making her groan loudly. The bars kept them apart somewhat, but he was still deep inside her, and that was what counted. Until she opened her eyes and saw the crazy guy in the cell across from them, looking at her with wild eyes, his tongue lolling out of his head, and jerking his filthy cock madly. "I miss seeing your face, Mark," she decided, turning around suddenly and pressing close to him again. She made him hold the bars, steadying his throbbing cock while she sidled forward, taking him inside her cunt again, sucking in her breath. She held onto the bars as well, squirming her hips. The bars were too closely spaced together to fit her legs through and wrap them around his hips, but he was still deep enough inside her to fuck her properly. "Hmm, baby;” If any guards knew what was happening, they chose to not interfere or even be nearby. They left the wealthy patrician woman alone. Of all the places Mark had expected to fuck Becky during their temporal travels, this would have been one of the last, he had to admit. Becky pushed her lips against his, kissing him deeply and lovingly. Their tongues tangled as she fucked him, exhilarating in the feel of his hard shaft in her and knowing she was going to cum quickly, and hard. She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes, her own flashing with lust. "You gonna cum in me, Mark?" she breathed, grinding on him hard, biting her bottom lip. "I want your cum in me, baby." He nodded, breathing heavily. He'd practically forgotten about his predicament, lost in the delirium of fucking his teacher. He pumped his hips back and forth in time with her movements, her cunt tightening around him and getting wetter with every second. He felt his cock throbbing and swelling inside her. "Yes, baby," she gasped, her skin flushed pink, her body trembling as she fought to hold on a few moments longer. "Cum deep inside me, Mark; oh God;” Becky clenched her teeth and arched her back as she pushed forward with her hips, straining hard; she felt Mark push against her as hard as he could, touching her cervix, and she shuddered and moaned loudly. The dam burst and he began cumming inside her, flooding her cunt with his desire. Becky shivered in pleasure, squeezing around him. They both sighed as the orgasm finally passed, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. Her fingers knotted with his and she gave him a peck on the lips before smiling. "Feel better?" she asked. "Oddly enough, yeah," he admitted, nodding. "So what do we do now? I don't wanna die here, Becks." "I know, don't worry, we'll figure it out," she replied, caressing his face with one hand while lowering the skirt of her stola with the other. "I've just gotta find out some things." "Can't we just bust me outta here and get out of Dodge?" he asked, not sure what the delay was. She gave him a quirky look. "Are we just supposed to leave Domitia to her fate? It's your fault she's doomed to death, you know. And there's also the matter of Nanu and what to do with her. We can't just prance around the timeline and mess up things with peoples' lives, Mark. I know you do it because you want to get laid, but there's still real consequences. You're living one of them." He sighed: "Yeah, you're right. I'm just worried." "I know you are, my love," she said gently, smiling warmly. "Just let me see what I can find out. Hang tight and stay out of trouble, okay?" She kissed him again lovingly and whispered something in his ear before sauntering out. He watched her leave and then sat back down, trying to ignore the fact that his hard-on was now sticky, on top of everything else. Getting shot by Richelieu may be have been ultimately worse, but this predicament was certainly less convenient. Some hours passed, and his mood decidedly did not improve. "Hello, my name is Faustus, and I am your legal representation during your trial," said a dull voice from beyond his cell. Mark's eyes drifted over to lay on a short, pudgy, balding man draped in a rather worn toga. He had some scrolls in a satchel he wore over his shoulder. He assessed Mark somewhat disinterestedly. "You are the slave Bonosus, yes?" Mark nodded. "And you are aware of the charges against you?" "Yup, I unknowingly boned a Vestal Virgin," Mark sighed, standing up, figuring he probably shouldn't be showing anyone any disrespect at this point. "What can I do for you, sir?" "Well, ignorance of the law is not likely to work as a defense in this particular instance, given the charge," Faustus said, tapping his satchel with his fingers. "Normally it might mitigate charges, but not where the Virgins are involved. At this point, I'm trying to spare you a cruel and painful death." "Swell," Mark said, his voice laden with apathy. "So, like, beheading instead of crucifixion sort of thing?" "Unless crucifixion is your preference, for some strange reason," replied the lawyer. "There is also the matter of your fee for my services in defending you?" Mark frowned: "I'm a slave, what am I supposed to be able to give you? Shouldn't you be talking to my owner, the Lady Aurora?" "The lady is proving difficult to contact, what with the entire city being in an uproar about you and all," Faustus reasoned, shrugging. "It may be up to you to see that my fees are met." "I don't have anything!" Mark protested somewhat angrily. Faustus trailed his gaze down Mark's well-built body, finally fixating on his erect cock and smiling lewdly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that;” Mark groaned and thunked his head against the iron bar that prevented his escape. He was wrong. This was worse than getting killed by Richelieu's men. Trial of Mark. Mark now found himself going through downtown Rome, but once again spending little time looking at the city; he was being hauled inside a cage on wheels along the Via Aurelia, with untold thousands of people lining the road, shouting, screaming and hissing at him. Rotten vegetables and rock-hard bread pelted his mobile prison, most of the projectiles not getting through to touch him. Mark didn't care. He stared out dully at the cacophony and churning masses of humanity, fully aware that his erect cock was pointing at them. He looked at the famed Palatine Hill and saw a large, rotund temple there, along with a vast manor. Outside the manor, standing on those distant steps, he saw many women dressed as Domitia had been, with their hair worn in the same style, staring down at him impassively. He almost laughed bitterly, knowing exactly who they are. No young person, ever, understood better than Mark now how important it was to pay attention to your studies. After all, it was about to cost him his head. His eyes widened when he saw Domitia dragged out the front doors of the manor by several servants and forced to look down at him. She seemed none the worse for wear, except for looking rather distraught and haggard. He saw, but could not hear her cry out at the sight of him, before being yanked back inside roughly, resisting the whole way. His lawyer, Faustus, had informed him that he'd be tried in a public court, his sentence determined there as well. If all went well, he wouldn't be made to wait long before his sentence was carried out. The waiting was the worst part, the lawyer assured him. The procession took forever, at least in his estimation. He was covered in tomato pulp and seeds, and bits of lettuce and other debris were sticking to him. "Will they at least allow me to bathe or clean up before my trial?" he'd complained to Faustus. He stank and he didn't like it. The lawyer said he'd see what he could do. On and on, his mobile prison rumbled slowly. They entered a crowded forum, surrounded by the white buildings Rome was renowned for. He saw several landmarks, but barely noted them. The presence of soldiers became heavier now, guarding against disturbances from the famously fickle and moody population of the city. They arrived at the courthouse, and he was hauled out of his cage by the chains his wrists were bound in. He ignored the cries and vitriol of the crowd, who had stopped throwing things, for fear of hitting a soldier or important person. At least there was that. He was brought into a small anteroom, where a pool sat in the center. He was unchained and shoved into it, allowed to bathe. Several Roman legionaries stood over him, one holding a whip in case Mark dawdled for any reason. Careful not to anger them, Mark cleaned himself diligently, but also as quickly as possible. When he got out of the pool, they dressed him in a plain but fresh tunic made of low-grade linen. There was one rather prominent problem, however, and the commander of the squad guarding him looked at Mark's crotch and scowled. "Does that thing ever go down?" he snapped. "Look, you're not as unhappy as I am about it," Mark shot back, exasperated about his condition. "Believe me! I had too many oysters at the orgy and now it won't go away." The commander thought about the predicament for a moment. He couldn't bring his prisoner into the courtroom sporting an erection. He finally ordered one of his men to tie a strap of linen around Mark's hips, keeping the obscene erection fixed flat against his belly. The legionaries chuckled as he was trussed, but then became serious as they prepared to lead him into the courtroom. Mark took a deep breath as he was led into the chamber that would determine his doom. Becky was squatting in a hallway, humming quietly as she sucked on the cock of a young lad who was running documents back and forth within the courthouse. He was pressed back against the wall, his eyes closed and moaning in pleasure as he let her work her magic. He didn't know exactly who this patrician woman was, but he wasn't about to stop her, either. Becky bobbed back and forth, swirling her tongue around his hardness and gently caressing his balls. She couldn't believe how horny she was! It had been more than twenty-four hours since the orgy and these sex stimulants were still wreaking havoc with her libido. If this kid lasted, maybe she could fuck him? She needed a good orgasm. A horn sounded outside the courthouse, and Becky paused mid-suck, opening her eyes and turning her head slightly to look in the direction of the noise, her cheek bulging comically as his cockhead pushed into it. The young man was still trembling and almost whimpering, even though she was distracted. "Damn, is it time for the trial already?" she exclaimed to herself before she stood up, straightened out her elegant stola and hurried down the hallway. The young paralegal gaped at her retreating form, his body trembling and his cock throbbing. "But I; I;” he protested, even though she was gone. He couldn't stop it. He whimpered and danced about on his toes, cum spurting from his aching cock. He grabbed his crotch and sighed deeply, doubling over at the release. Too late, he opened his eyes and noticed he'd spattered his jizz all over the documents he'd been bringing for the trial; "The accused is named Bonosus, a slave owned by Lady Aurora Horatia," announced one of the scribes in the room, a rotund chamber that had benches lining most of the walls, allowing for spectators. Today it was crowded, because the charges were so extraordinary. "Prior to this trial, the lady Horatia has been determined free of all guilt, with no investigation or charges needing to be brought forward." Becky, sitting near the trial stand, smiled and winked at the presiding praetor judge, an older, distinguished man, who subtly winked back at her before turning his attention back to Mark, staring sternly. Mark stood alone in the center of the rotunda, his hands and feet manacled, a single beam of wan light shining down on him from a hole in the center of the domed ceiling. He looked back at the judge blankly. "The accused is charged with disgracing a sacred virgin of the goddess, potentially putting great Rome in her disfavor, and such charges warrant only the ultimate of punishments, your honor!" declared a man in a well-embroidered toga made of exquisite fabric and trimmed in yellow. Mark assumed this was the lawyer meant to prosecute him. "For this heinous crime, Rome must be cleansed, to appear cleansed in the eyes of Vesta! We demand this Bonosus be burned at the stake!" Mark swallowed and looked at Faustus, who was sweating and wiping at his collarbone, trying not to fidget. People around the room were talking and whispering to one another. The judge looked down at the pudgy lawyer. "What say you on behalf of the accused, man?" "I;” he began, already faltering. "Your Honor, we feel that the defendant, being a mere slave ignorant of all law and education, had no way of knowing that he was indeed in contact with one of Rome's sacred girls. In that light, while we do not protest his guilt, we ask for clemency; lashes, if possible, or exile beyond the Empire's borders; but if he must die for this crime, let Great Rome show its much-famed mercy and give my client a swift beheading." People in the gallery began shouting angrily in protest at his words, while many of the advocates and adjudicates involved in the case began laughing derisively. Nobody seemed to be in Faustus' corner about this. Mark flicked his eyes up at Becky, and she was simply looking in impassively. A sinking feeling in his stomach took over his senses. Despite his fear, his cock throbbed in yearning at the sight of her. "Faustus, Faustus," chided the lawyer representing the city of Rome, shaking his head almost ruefully. "My dear Faustus, you are so good-hearted, but this defendant of yours did not simply assault one of the Sacred Virgins, he did not merely violate her chaste body, he sublimated her. He changed her! He has corrupted her! Bring in the girl!" Mark's eyes widened as Domitia was dragged into the chamber, clad in her sacred robes, but with strips of red fabric bound to her arms and around her forehead. She looked terrified, but then she saw Mark and her eyes widened. Before anyone could stop her, she broke free of the servants holding her and dashed forward, howling loudly and falling to her knees at his feet. Everyone gaped in astonishment as she lifted his tunic, releasing his cock from its confinement against his stomach, kissing and then sucking on it hungrily, plunging it all the way down her throat in crazed need. People howled in shock and outrage at the scene. Mark, who hadn't had any sex in over twenty-four hours and was in horny agony, groaned loudly despite himself and gripped her head, pumping his hips against her face desperately as people rushed toward him and tried to pull them apart. Someone finally managed to pry Domitia's mouth away from his cock, but when spectators tried to drag her away, she wildly latched her legs around his waist, grinding and humping at him in a desperate frenzy of lust, the skirt of her stola giving way and allowing her to spike herself onto him. The judge and other officials watched in bewilderment as the fracas stumbled around the rotunda, with people trying desperately to pull them apart. They were yanking at Domitia, who was panting and crying out in ecstasy, while Mark groaned in relief and need, despite the people clawing at him and punching him. One enterprising and rather stout legionary knelt beside the fornicators and grabbed hold of them, straining to separate them. Domitia's yelps and Mark's moans became desperate grunts to hold one to one another for several seconds. Eventually, though, Domitia's legs gave out and she was dragged back from him. Mark roared in protest as he shivered and came a split-second after she had been pulled off him. His cock, now released from its warm, wet confines, smacked the legionary across his nose and spat ropes of cum in his eye and across his face. He wailed at the sting and fell on the floor, kicking in panic and trying to wipe the spume out of his eyes. Domitia was finally restrained, and her mouth gagged to stop her howling. She continued to struggle, but it was no use. At last she sagged, seemingly exhausted. Mark looked around, finally noticing Lord Flavius and Lady Pompeneia in the crowd, looking on in horror and mortification. He glanced up at Becky, but she was looking at the ceiling and covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. "This!" said the prosecutor angrily, jabbing his finger first toward Mark and then at Domitia. "This is what the accused has done to one of the sacred Virgins! Turned her into an uncontrollable harlot! She is so completely undone that she cannot think of anything except quenching the fire between her wanton loins!" Many women gasped or cried out at his unprecedented words, while men muttered to one another. Lady Pompeneia looked like she was ready to faint again. "This is an outrage!" Lord Flavius shouted furiously. "We gave our daughter to the state willingly, to fulfill her destiny as a priestess of the goddess, and now we see ourselves unfairly shamed! And this; this; slave; endangers the safety of us all, calling our favor with Vesta into question!" "Do you call charges against the Lady Horatia to ruin your good name?" asked the prosecutor coolly. "Oh, no, no, of course not," Lord Flavius said hastily, shaking his head and looking over at Lady Aurora. "She remains blameless in all of this, assuredly." Becky winked at Lord Flavius, and then subtly at the prosecutor, who smiled and winked back. "Jesus, Becks;” Mark muttered, scowling at the ground. "You've been around the pool more times than Katie Ledecky since we got here;” "Silence!" boomed the judge angrily, his face still rather purple from witnessing the lewd chaos wreaked in his court. "Centurion, strike that man if he won't show respect!" Mark grunted and staggered as the centurion standing close to him cuffed him across the ear. He stayed upright, but glowered at the man. "Wanna try that while my hands aren't cuffed, asshole?" "Silence!" roared the judge, turning purple again as other guards kept Mark from jumping on his assailant. "You are a creature of vile sin!" shouted Lord Flavius from the benches, pointing a trembling finger at Mark. "Yeah? Who cares?" Mark shot back, glaring at his host. "Your wife wasn't complaining yesterday when she rode my hog to the Promised Land, was she? No complaints from your daughter, either!" Lord Flavius howled in fury as he tried to rush the floor but was restrained. Lady Pompeneia fainted again. Another guard cuffed Mark on the back of the head, staggering him again, but this time he didn't have a snappy comeback. He looked angry, but his face had a tic suddenly. People were shouting and crying out in horror at the chaos the proceedings had become. "What manner of devil are you, boy?" the judge hissed at Mark. "Oh, I'm here to fuck every woman in Rome," Mark said sarcastically, tired of this bullshit. "I meant for a Vestal Virgin to be last, ya' know, sort of the proverbial cum icing on the titty cake. But the opportunity came up, and wham, bam, thank you, Vesta;” People shrieked in outrage, and Faustus pissed himself, staring at Mark in dumbfounded horror. "That's right, gents, line 'em up!" Mark said angrily, his face still twitching. Why was he saying these things? Was the chip in his head giving him Tourette's? He wiggled his erection before the entire room, since his tunic had got caught on it when he was separated from Domitia and it was still in plain view, glistening with her spittle and cunt juice. "Bring your uppity wives and daughters to me, I'll make 'em behave!" Faustus just threw his legal scrolls in the air and stormed off. Another legionary tried to punch Mark, but he dodged the punch and rammed his forehead into the man's nose, just avoiding his helmet. The man fell backwards, holding his face. Mark might have tried to kick him, but there were suddenly ten legionaries surrounding him, their swords pointed at his throat. Mark held very still, glowering. The judged barked for the legal scrolls he was meant to consult during this trial, but they were not to be found. He yelled for them again, and a young man barged in hastily from the back door to the rotunda, and the chamber beyond, carrying armfuls of scrolls. He dumped them on the judge's stone table and scurried off without another word. The judge made to pick up one of the documents, but paused; it was sticking to another scroll. He frowned and pulled them apart, noticing that a pearly residue was the source of the problem. Worse, the scroll pages became slippery as he tried to pry them apart. The sticky substance was all over them. And his fingers now. He quietly put the parchments down and shoved them aside. Once the judge had composed himself, clearly livid about the circus his courtroom had become, and once Mark was facing him again, he leaned in and asked a question. "Do you have anything to say before your sentence is pronounced?" "Don't you think this is enough of a sham that we should just get it over with?" Mark grumbled. "What?" the judge asked, confused. "I said, how about you get this show on the road, because thousands of my potential children have a date with your mom's face tonight!" Mark snapped, jerking slightly. What the absolute fuck was happening? He wasn't speaking Latin anymore, he was speaking Greek! "You mock us by speaking Greek?" demanded the judge, rising from his chair. "Do you seek to invalidate this court?" "This court is full of invalids already!" Mark raged, the chip inside his head sputtering. Apparently one of the blows to his head had made it misfire. "Get your mother out here already! And your daughter too!" The judge slumped back on his stone chair, as if stunned by what Mark was saying. Everyone in the court was silent, waiting to see what happened next. He turned to Domitia, who was restrained nearby. "Domitia, former daughter of the Flavian household

The Egyptian-Hittite Treaty. In regnal year 21 (c.1272 BCE), Ramesses II announced a treaty with Hattusili III. The two kings united in "peace and brotherhood, forever," and agreed to a raft of provisions regarding their territories, vassals, rules-of-succession, and more. As the first (surviving) treaty between the two Great Powers, the year 21 agreement is a landmark in the history of diplomacy. We explore the text and its impact... Music: Luke Chaos. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

FOLLOW RICHARD Website: https://www.strangeplanet.ca YouTube: @strangeplanetradio Instagram: @richardsyrettstrangeplanet TikTok: @therealstrangeplanet EP. # 1280The Machine Made of Mountains: A Utah Mystery Linking Tesla, The Pyramids and Time Itself Beneath Utah's rugged peaks lies a colossal secret: a geometric grid mirroring the Great Pyramid of Giza, etched into the earth itself. Park City researcher John Berry claims he's mapped an ancient energy machine—mountains as conductors, basins as parabolic amplifiers—tapping the planet's hidden power. Filed in Utah's Fourth District Court to etch his discovery into history, Berry links this template to Mormon temples, Masonic mines, Tesla's lost truths, even UAPs and cattle mutilations. Coincidence or erased civilization? GUEST: Gib Berry is an independent researcher and Park City native who traded ski slopes for satellite maps to chase a radical theory: Utah's Wasatch Range conceals a pre-Egyptian energy grid modeled on the Great Pyramid. Using GIS overlays, he's documented alignments between ancient geometry, Mormon temples, historic mines, and modern military sites—then filed the evidence in Utah's Fourth District Court to bypass gatekeepers. A former outdoorsman turned citizen scientist, Berry warns this “machine made of mountains” may explain everything from ghost lights to UAP hotspots, urging skeptics to overlay the data themselves and feel the grid pulse beneath their feet. WEBSITE/LINKS:www.slcbustours.comhttps://www.youtube.com/@gib-berry   SUPPORT OUR SPONSORS!!! FOUND – Smarter banking for your businessTake back control of your business today. Open a Found account for FREE at Found dot com. Found is a financial technology company, not a bank. Banking services are provided byLead Bank, Member FDIC. Join the hundreds of thousands who've already streamlined their finances with Found. HIMS -Making Healthy and Happy Easy to Achieve SexualHealth, Hair Loss, Mental Health, Weight Management STARTYOUR FREE ONLINE VISIT TODAY - ⁠HIMS dot com slash STRANGE⁠ ⁠https://www.HIMS.com/strange⁠ MINT MOBILE Premium Wireless - $15 per month. No Stores. No Salespeople. JUST SAVINGS Ready to say yes to saying no? Make the switch at MINT MOBILE dot com slash STRANGEPLANET.   ⁠BECOME A PREMIUM SUBSCRIBER!!!⁠  ⁠https://strangeplanet.supportingcast.fm⁠  Three monthly subscriptions to choose from.  Commercial Free Listening, Bonus Episodes and a Subscription to my monthly newsletter, InnerSanctum.  Visit ⁠https://strangeplanet.supportingcast.fm⁠ Use the discount code "Planet" to receive $5 OFF  off any subscription.  We and our partners use cookies to personalize your experience, to show you ads based on your interests, and for measurement and analytics purposes. By using our website and services, you agree to our use of cookies as described in our Cookie Policy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit ⁠megaphone.fm/adchoices   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://strangeplanet.supportingcast.fm/

Amid smoke, music, and polite threats at the Blue Pyramid, new alliances and unseen watchers begin to circle the Egyptian murders, hinting that the terror behind them is far more organised than anyone dares admit.Keeper: Matthew DawkinsGuest players: Eddy Webb and Bridgett JeffriesMusic by: Halgrath and Ager Sonus. We have also used the Lovecraftian Compilations by Cryo Chamber. Used with permission by Cryo Chamber.Our Champions of the Red Moon: Martin Heuschober, Simon Cooper, Julia, Camilla, Bob de Lange, Cameron, Graham Barey, Doug Thomson, Lily, Maciej, Black Templar, Dennis Sadecki and Leonhardt.Web: https://www.redmoonroleplaying.comiTunes: http://apple.co/2wTNqHxAndroid: https://www.subscribeonandroid.com/feeds.simplecast.com/oYuoCFr6Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/RedMoonRoleplayingSpotify: https://spoti.fi/30iFmznRSS: http://www.redmoonroleplaying.com/podcast?format=rssPatreon: https://www.patreon.com/RedMoonRoleplaying

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

America is not only a good country, but it can also make the world a better place. That's the somewhat surprising conclusion of the progressive Washington Post columnist Shadi Hamid, whose new book, The Case for American Power, argues that America remains the one great power that can improve the world. Hamid, once a militant anti-Iraq War campus activist, has undergone a striking ideological journey in the quarter-century since 9/11. The moral arc of his life now bends towards a practical, imperfect morality. This son of Egyptian immigrants champions American dominance over Chinese and Russian dictatorships—while insisting that hypocrisy, far from being a fatal flaw, is actually the homage that vice pays to virtue. The gap between American ideals and reality, he argues, is where moral progress happens. He even has a word for this: asymptote. Meaning that American idealism, while it can never fully be reached, is still of great value. 1. The Left Has Lost Faith in America—And the Numbers Prove ItIn the early 2000s, 85% of Democrats were extremely or very proud to be American. By 2025, that number has plummeted to just 36%—one of the most precipitous drops in modern polling history. Hamid argues this self-loathing among progressives is dangerous, leaving a vacuum that allows illiberal powers like China and Russia to fill. The alternative to American power isn't no power—it's worse power.2. Hypocrisy Isn't a Bug, It's a FeatureDrawing on French philosopher François de La Rochefoucauld, Hamid insists that “hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue.” America is accused of hypocrisy precisely because it aspires to ideals it often fails to meet. China and Russia are rarely called hypocrites—not because they're more honest, but because they make no pretense of moral purpose. The gap between American ideals and reality is uncomfortable, but it's also where progress happens. Close the gap by abandoning ideals, and you get pure cynicism.3. George W. Bush Got Some Things Right (If You Take Out Iraq)This is Hamid's most counterintuitive argument. While the Iraq War was an unjustified disaster, Bush's Freedom Agenda—pressuring allies like Egypt and Saudi Arabia to open their political systems—represented a fusion of power and moral purpose that Hamid admires. Bush spoke eloquently about universal human dignity and Arab aspirations for democracy. The problem wasn't the idealism; it was the catastrophic application of military force where it wasn't warranted.4. Conditional Aid Is the Answer—Even for IsraelHamid advocates suspending military aid to Egypt ($1.4 billion annually) and Saudi Arabia until they demonstrate meaningful reform: stopping journalist executions, allowing local elections, releasing dissidents. The same principle applies to Israel. Biden's failure to condition aid during Gaza's mass civilian casualties—what Hamid calls a genocide—represents an abdication of moral responsibility. These countries depend on American weapons. Washington should use that leverage to demand they share our values, not give them carte blanche.5. Asymptote: The Mathematical Concept That Explains American IdealismAn asymptote is a curve that approaches a line but never quite intersects with it. This, Hamid argues, is America—perpetually striving toward ideals we'll never fully achieve, but getting closer through incremental progress. We'll never be perfect, but we can curve toward perfection. The right under Trump has abandoned even the pretense of aspiring to higher ideals. The left's job is to reclaim that progressive tradition: reminding Americans that moral progress is possible, even if completion isn't.Keen On America is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit keenon.substack.com/subscribe

Bestselling award-winning author #BrianNiemeier joins us this week to look back at the 1999 pulp adventure classic, The Mummy. Death is only the beginning!https://www.spreaker.com/episode/the-mummy--68568976Specter of Empire BackerKit Campaign:https://www.kairospublications.com/soehttp://www.brianniemeier.com/Mummy Narrative Breakdown and Trivia by Movies In A Bottle:https://youtu.be/1CvdTyL7Izw?si=QKhMtSmjaPG3AHAJ#mummy #themummy #stephensommers #brendanfraser #rachelweisz #johnhannah #action #adventure #horror #pulp #universal #monster #monsters #Egypt #Egyptian #Imhotep 

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this session, Athina Krol reveals the sacred art of Isis Sexual Alchemy, a feminine, devotional path of divine union, and how it differs from modern Sex Magick practices.   This session takes you into the ancient Egyptian mystery schools where sexual energy wasn't used for external manifestation or desire, it was a sacred alchemy of creation, purification, and divine remembrance. You'll understand why these teachings were suppressed, how they are being reawakened through the Priestess lineages, and how to begin reclaiming this sacred power within your own body.   Athina shares how sexual alchemy works as a process of inner transformation, activating the heart–womb current, purifying ancestral imprints, and aligning your sexual energy with divine service. This is not about manipulation of energy, it's about becoming the vessel for the frequency of Ma'at: truth, integrity, and cosmic harmony.     We Cover •Understand the true purpose of sexual alchemy as taught in the Isis Temples, inner union, remembrance, and service to the Divine. •Learn how modern Sex Magick focuses on external manifestation, while Isis Alchemy refines energy inward for spiritual awakening. •Explore how the feminine body is already the temple, designed to channel and hold divine frequencies. •Discover the importance of purification, activation, and heart–womb alignment as the foundation of sacred sexuality. •Uncover how trauma, lineage wounds, and energetic imprints can block your creative power, and how to clear them. •Remember that true power flows through Ma'at, truth, harmony, and divine integrity. •Reconnect to your divine feminine energy as a current of creation, healing, and abundance.   Ready to walk the Priestess Path? Join the Isis Ka Practitioner Program to awaken your Ka body, clear deep energetic imprints, and embody your divine feminine power.   Learn more here.   If this transmission resonates with your soul, share your reflections below. Like, comment, and subscribe for more channelled teachings from the ancient mysteries.    

For centuries, scholars have praised Egypt as the cradle of civilization — but what if it's actually cradling something far older… the story of Genesis itself? Beneath the sand and carved into stone lies evidence that the ancient Egyptians didn't just imagine their gods — they remembered their ancestors. From Atum sounding strikingly like Adam, to depictions of a serpent crushed beneath a sacred tree, echoes of Eden still whisper from the walls of Egypt's oldest temples. Could it be that the people of Egypt carried the true history of Creation, the Fall, and the Flood — passed down from Noah's sons — long before pagan mythologies distorted the record? Join Eric Hovind and scholar Gavin Cox for a fascinating journey from Babel to the banks of the Nile as they uncover how the earliest civilizations preserved fragments of Genesis in their language, art, and worship. This isn't just archaeology — it's a revelation buried in plain sight. History, it turns out, has been testifying to the truth of the Bible all along.   Watch this Podcast on Video at: https://creationtoday.org/on-demand-classes/adam-in-egypt-how-pagan-myths-point-back-to-the-bible-creation-today-show-449/  Join Eric LIVE each Wednesday at 12 Noon CT for conversations with Experts. You can support this podcast by becoming a Creation Today Partner at CreationToday.org/Partner

Ancient Greek mythology tells of a daunting underground maze known as the labyrinth, which, according to legend, housed the fabled beast known as the minotaur. However, clues hidden in ancient writings through the centuries have suggested that there may be more to the tale than mere legend, and that there had in fact been more than one labyrinth that existed in the ancient world.  This week on The Micah Hanks Program, a remarkable new discovery in Crete has reinvigorated debate over the origins behind one of ancient Greece's most enduring legends, and it marks only the beginning of our search for answers to one of history's most enduring mysteries. Where were the locations of these massive underground complexes in antiquity, and could they indeed still exist into the present day?   Have you had a UFO/UAP sighting? Please consider reporting your sighting to the UAP Sightings Reporting System, a public resource for information about sightings of aerial phenomena. The story doesn't end here... become an X Subscriber and get access to even more weekly content and monthly specials. Want to advertise/sponsor The Micah Hanks Program? We have partnered with the AdvertiseCast to handle our advertising/sponsorship requests. If you would like to advertise with The Micah Hanks Program, all you have to do is click the link below to get started: AdvertiseCast: Advertise with The Micah Hanks Program Show Notes Below are links to stories and other content featured in this episode: NEWS: Senate advances plan to end historic shutdown in bipartisan breakthrough  Flight disruptions from shutdown worsen as Trump threatens air traffic controllers  The shutdown is about to end. Will millions lose their health insurance?  ARCHAEOLOGY NEWS: Archaeologists Decode Peru's Mysterious Band of Holes Officials Seek Answers as Mysterious Vehicle Revealed by Melting Ice in the Swiss Alps "Monster of the Earth": Archaeologists Uncover Ceremonial Marker Revealing Royal Power at Maya Site THE LABYRINTH: Myths of the Labyrinth: The Ashmolean Museum  THE GREEK LABYRINTH: The Cretan Labyrinth (via Britannica)  Half–bull, half-truth… How English archaeologist claimed credit for discovering home of the minotaur 4000-Year-Old Labyrinth Discovery, "One of the Most Important Archaeological Finds" of the Century EGYPT'S LABYRINTH: The lost Egyptian labyrinth – The Past BECOME AN X SUBSCRIBER AND GET EVEN MORE GREAT PODCASTS AND MONTHLY SPECIALS FROM MICAH HANKS. Sign up today and get access to the entire back catalog of The Micah Hanks Program, as well as "classic" episodes, weekly "additional editions" of the subscriber-only X Podcast, the monthly Enigmas specials, and much more. Like us on Facebook Follow @MicahHanks on X. Keep up with Micah and his work at micahhanks.com.

Cale looks at Genesis 43. Joseph meets his brothers a second time and tests them. Why did the Egyptians look down on Hebrews?

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/military-history

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/middle-eastern-studies

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-studies

When you have entered the land the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance and have taken possession of it and settled in it, 2 take some of the first fruits of all that you produce from the soil of the land the Lord your God is giving you and put them in a basket. Then go to the place the Lord your God will choose as a dwelling for his Name 3 and say to the priest in office at the time, “I declare today to the Lord your God that I have come to the land the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.” 4 The priest shall take the basket from your hands and set it down in front of the altar of the Lord your God. 5 Then you shall declare before the Lord your God: “My father was a wandering Aramean, and he went down into Egypt with a few people and lived there and became a great nation, powerful and numerous. 6 But the Egyptians mistreated us and made us suffer, subjecting us to harsh labor. 7 Then we cried out to the Lord, the God of our ancestors, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our misery, toil and oppression. 8 So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders. 9 He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey; 10 and now I bring the first fruits of the soil that you, Lord, have given me.” Place the basket before the Lord your God and bow down before him. 11 Then you and the Levites and the foreigners residing among you shall rejoice in all the good things the Lord your God has given to you and your household. 8 So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders. 9 He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey; 10 and now I bring the first fruits of the soil that you, Lord, have given me.” Place the basket before the Lord your God and bow down before him. 

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/archaeology

From the acclaimed author of 1177 B.C., a spellbinding account of the archaeological find that opened a window onto the vibrant diplomatic world of the ancient Near East In 1887, an Egyptian woman made an astonishing discovery among the ruins of the heretic king Akhenaten's capital city, a site now known as Amarna. She found a cache of cuneiform tablets, nearly four hundred in all, that included correspondence between the pharaohs and the mightiest powers of the day, such as the Hittites, Babylonians, and Assyrians. Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed (Princeton University Press, 2025) tells the story of the Amarna Letters and the dramatic world of the Bronze Age they revealed. Blending scholarly expertise with painstaking detective work, Eric Cline describes the spectacular discovery, the fierce competition among dealers and museums to acquire the tablets, and the race by British and German scholars to translate them. Dating to the middle of the fourteenth century BCE and the time of Tutankhamun's immediate predecessors, Amenhotep III and his son Akhenaten, the Amarna Letters are the only royal archive from New Kingdom Egypt known to exist. In them, we learn of royal marriages, diplomatic negotiations, gift-giving, intrigue, and declarations of brotherly love between powerful rulers as well as demands made by the petty kings in Canaan who owed allegiance to Egypt's pharaohs. A monumental achievement, Love, War, and Diplomacy transports readers to the glorious age of the Amarna Letters and the colonial era that brought them to light and reveals how the politics, posturing, and international intrigues of the ancient Near East are not so unlike today's. Eric H. Cline is professor of classics and anthropology at George Washington University. Caleb Zakarin is editor of the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This holy Martyr was an Egyptian and a soldier during the reigns of Diocletian and Maximian. Though he was known for his valor in combat, he renounced his soldier's rank when his legion was ordered to seize Christians in north Africa. Fleeing to the mountains, he dwelt there for some time in silence and solitude, devoting his days to prayer. In time, he presented himself at a pagan festival, denounced the idols and declared himself a Christian. For this he was handed over to the governor of the city, who subjected him to horrible tortures and finally had him beheaded. Some faithful retrieved part of his relics and gave them honorable burial near Lake Mareotis, about thirty miles from Alexandria. The church built over his tomb became a place of pilgrimage not only for countless Egyptians but for Christians all over the world: evidence has been found of journeys to his shrine from as far away as Ireland.   The Synaxarion gives an account of the Saint's intervention in the Second World War: "In June 1942, during the North-Africa campaign that was decisive for the outcome of the Second World War, the German forces under the command of General Rommel were on their way to Alexandria, and happened to make a halt near a place which the Arabs call El-Alamein after Saint Menas. An ancient ruined church there was dedicated to the Saint; and there some people say he is buried. Here the weaker Allied forces including some Greeks confronted the numerically and militarily superior German army, and the result of the coming battle seemed certain. During the first night of engagement, Saint Menas appeared in the midst of the German camp at the head of a caravan of camels, exactly as he was shown on the walls of the ruined church in one of the frescoes depicting his miracles. This astounding and terrifying apparition so undermined German morale that it contributed to the brilliant victory of the Allies. The Church of Saint Menas was restored in thanksgiving and a small monastery was established there."

Fr. Mitch examines the lack of benefits the Egyptians, Assyrians and Babylonians gained from the subjugation and exile of the people of Israel, and to what this is testimony.

Friends of the Rosary,Today, on Veterans Day (USA) and Remembrance Day (Canada), we remember in our prayers those who have served in the U.S. armed forces. Veterans Day is set aside for honoring military veterans in America.Also, today, the Catholic Church celebrates the Memorial of St. Martin of Tours (and also remembers St. Mennas of Egypt (d. 300), an Egyptian soldier and martyr who was put to death during Diocletian's reign.Martin was a soldier before being a bishop and a saint — a soldier of God!He was born of pagan parents in Pannonia, present-day Hungary, and became a catechumen of his own initiative at the age of ten. He joined the Roman army and demonstrated his faith to his fellow soldiers through his acts of charity until his resignation.Martin founded a monastic community in Ligugé, France, on land given to him by Saint Hilary of Poitiers. In 372, he was elected Bishop of Tours. He preached tirelessly and with fervor. After his death in 397, Martin's Vita, the story of his life, spread throughout Europe.Ave Maria!Come, Holy Spirit, come!To Jesus through Mary!Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.Please give us the grace to respond with joy!+ Mikel Amigot w/ María Blanca | RosaryNetwork.com, New YorkEnhance your faith with the new Holy Rosary University app:Apple iOS | New! Android Google Play• ⁠November 11, 2025, Today's Rosary on YouTube | Daily broadcast at 7:30 pm ET

The co-author of the African run of the History of Philosophy Podcast (and new book) joins us to go over philosophical works from 2200-1400 BCE: "The Instruction of Ptahhotep," "The Instruction Addressed to King Merikare," "The Great Hymn to the Aten," "The Dispute Between a Man and His Ba," and "The Eloquent Peasant." Get more at partiallyexaminedlife.com. Visit partiallyexaminedlife.com/support to get ad-free episodes and tons of bonus discussion. Sponsor: Visit functionhealth.com/PEL to get the data you need to take action for your health.

In this inspiring episode, host Lynne Hilton Wilson dives deep into the Book of Abraham, one of the most profound and revelatory texts in Latter-day Saint scripture. With a warm and faithful perspective, Lynne explores the incredible doctrines revealed through this ancient record—truths about the divine nature of men and women, our premortal existence, and our eternal standing as beloved children of God. Lynne also highlights the groundbreaking research of Dr. John Gee, renowned Egyptologist at BYU, whose decades of study on hundreds of Egyptian facsimiles shed new light on Joseph Smith's inspired translation. His work provides fascinating insights that support and enrich our understanding of how the Book of Abraham connects ancient symbols with eternal truths.

In this powerful episode, host Shai Davidai sits down with Dalia Ziada—an Egyptian writer, civil rights activist, and outspoken critic of extremism. Dalia shares her personal journey from growing up in a conservative Egyptian society to becoming a leading voice for peace, justice, and democratic values in the Middle East. She discusses the impact of October 7th, her fight against terrorism, and the importance of standing up against hate. Dalia also reflects on her role in the Arab Spring, the challenges of promoting nonviolence, and the ongoing struggle for human rights and coexistence in the region. This conversation offers deep insights into the complexities of the Middle East and the courage it takes to advocate for change. This season is dedicated to Shai's grandmother, Leah Davidai, who passed away earlier this year. Sponsored in part by Iron Dome Coffee, visit www.irondomecoffee.com and use the code HERE I AM for an exclusive discount just for our listeners. Guest: Dalia Ziada Consider DONATING to help us continue and expand our media efforts. If you cannot at this time, please share this video with someone who might benefit from it. We thank you for your support! COMING SOON BUY MERCH! SUPPORT SHAI ON PATREON!https://www.patreon.com/shaidavidai/about?utm_source=campaign-search-results