Podcasts about englishwoman

A schoolmaster arrives late at night in a remote Alpine village. The inn has no rooms. Then suddenly—there is one. A room that's occupied, yet empty. A room whose previous tenant, an Englishwoman, left two days before and hasn't returned. As he unpacks his few belongings, the atmosphere begins to press in. Something lingers here—in the faded flowers by the washstand, in the air itself. And when darkness falls, he feels it: a crushing weight of despair that doesn't belong to him. Thoughts that aren't his own. A blackness so complete it whispers of only one escape. The search party is still out on the mountains. But what if they're looking in the wrong place? Publication Details: "The Occupant of the Room" was first published in 1909 in Blackwood's collection John Silence: Physician Extraordinary, featuring the psychic detective Dr. John Silence. The story showcases Blackwood's mastery of psychological horror and the contagion of extreme emotional states. Author Biography: Algernon Blackwood (1869-1951) was a British author, occultist, and member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. His work explored the boundaries between psychological experience and supernatural phenomena, establishing him as one of the most influential writers of weird fiction in the early twentieth century.

History is loaded with the stories of imposters, fraudsters and outright liars. Princess Caraboo, an Englishwoman who pretended to be a Princess from a fictional island. Frank Abagnale, Jr.- who in his career, impersonated a pilot, a doctor and a lawyer, just to name a few.   Victor Lustig, who sold the salvage rights to the Eiffel Tower…twice!And my favorite, from the “gullible file,” David Hampton, con man and robber, who convinced a number of people in the 1980's that he was the son of actor Sydney Poitier. Subject of the play and movie, “Six degrees of Separation.” But none match the chutzpah of Stephane Bourgoin, the serial killer expert who fooled the world. If it weren't for “The 4th Eye,” a group of True Crime enthusiasts in Bourgoin's home country of France, he might be still chugging along today. The group exposed Bourgoin for the dangerous fraud that he was. In 2022, author Lauren Collins wrote, "The Unraveling of an Expert on Serial Killers," for The New Yorker. In August 2024, Bourgoin was the subject of a National Geographic docuseries entitled "Killer Lies." Please join out host, Jim Sulanowski, as he welcomes the producer of “Killer Lies”, Ben Selkow.

Shattered Lands by Sam Dalrymple A history of modern South Asia told through five partitions that reshaped it. As recently as 1928, a vast swathe of Asia – India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Burma, Nepal, Bhutan, Yemen, Oman, the UAE, Qatar, Bahrain and Kuwait – were bound together under a single imperial banner, an entity known officially as the ‘Indian Empire', or more simply as the Raj. It was the British Empire's crown jewel, a vast dominion stretching from the Red Sea to the jungles of Southeast Asia, home to a quarter of the world's population and encompassing the largest Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Zoroastrian communities on the planet. Its people used the Indian rupee, were issued passports stamped ‘Indian Empire', and were guarded by armies garrisoned in forts from the Bab el-Mandeb to the Himalayas And then, in the space of just fifty years, the Indian Empire shattered. Five partitions tore it apart, carving out new nations, redrawing maps, and leaving behind a legacy of war, exile and division. Shattered Lands, for the first time, presents the whole story of how the Indian Empire was unmade. How a single, sprawling dominion became twelve modern nations. How maps were redrawn in boardrooms and on battlefields, by politicians in London and revolutionaries in Delhi, by kings in remote palaces and soldiers in trenches. Its legacies include civil war in Burma and ongoing insurgencies in Kashmir, Baluchistan and Northeast India, and the Rohingya genocide. It is a history of ambition and betrayal, of forgotten wars and unlikely alliances, of borders carved with ink and fire. And, above all, it is the story of how the map of modern Asia was made. The Heir Apparent by Rebecca Armitage They would always choose the Crown over their family. It was the pact they made for the honour of wearing it. Lexi Villiers is a 29-year-old Englishwoman doing her medical residency in Hobart, working too hard, worried about her bank balance, and living with friends. It's an ordinary, happy kind of life, and getting even better, because as the dawn is breaking on New Year's Day, Lexi is about to kiss the man she loves for the very first time. But by midnight, everything will change. Because Lexi is in fact not an ordinary young woman. She is Princess Alexandrina, third in line to the British throne—albeit estranged from the rest of her family and living in voluntary exile on the other side of the world. But following a terrible accident which has claimed the life of her father and her twin brother, Lexi—the black sheep of her family and, until this moment, always destined to be the spare—is now the heir apparent, first in line to the throne once her grandmother, the elderly Queen, dies. Called back to do her duty, she arrives in London to a Palace riven with power plays and media leaks, all the while guarding painful secrets of her own, not knowing who she can trust. Palace waters are treacherous, rumours are rife, and selling each other's secrets is a family tradition. And with the Crown just within her grasp, Lexi must choose what bonds she will keep ... and what she is willing to leave behind. LISTEN ABOVE See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In today's chat, we're talking about: ✨ How shops could elevate the high street experience

It's time for some nunsploitation! That's right, folks, for tonight's shift, Kyle & Chris Lackey (Strange Studies of Strange Stories) screened the Lovecraftian horror film DARK WATERS (1993). Unholy terror is unleashed when a young Englishwoman tries to find her mysterious connection to an isolated convent filled with terrors and torment. So, is this film any good? Well, give this review a listen and find out...if you DAAAaaaare!Already seen it? Let us know your thoughts!KICKSTARTER:Hallowed - Chapter 2OMINOUS MEDIA LINKS:WebsiteOminous NewsletterHumming Fools - PodcastEvil Cast - ComicKYLE LINKS:WebsitePatreonInstagramLetterboxd CHRIS LINKS:BlueskyStrange Studies of Strange Stories PodcastMUSIC:Intro - Cory NelsonOutro - Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

Tonight, we shall read the next part to Persuasion, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife.In the last episode, Anne visits her old school friend Mrs. Smith in Westgate-buildings. Though Mrs. Smith lives in poverty and poor health, she is cheerful, resourceful, and glad for Anne's company. As their conversation turns to acquaintances, Mrs. Smith seems unusually hesitant when Mr. Elliot's name arises. At first, she holds back, saying little. But upon realizing how closely Anne is now connected to Mr. Elliot, she finally decides it is her duty as a friend to speak. We will pick up at this point in their conversation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Step into the chilling story of Mary Blandy, the 18th-century Englishwoman whose act of patricide shocked a nation and whose spirit is said to still linger in Henley-on-Thames.In this episode, Yvette Fielding explores the historical and paranormal dimensions of Mary's life, crime, and legacy.We begin with Mary Blandy's biography, her relationship with her father, and the influence of her lover that led to a deadly betrayal.Then, we recount the events of her father's poisoning, her trial, and execution, setting the stage for the ghostly tales that followed.Discover the haunted locations linked to Mary Blandy, from her family home to the streets of Henley, and hear eyewitness accounts and local folklore that suggest her presence still lingers centuries later.Yvette delves into the paranormal theories behind these hauntings, examining why murder cases often leave restless spirits and exploring the investigations that have attempted to capture evidence of her ghost.Finally, we reflect on the connections between executions, violent crime, and lingering hauntings, and consider the enduring legacy of Mary Blandy—both as a historical figure and as a spectral presence in English folklore.Join us for a journey through history, horror, and the unexplained in this week's episode of Paranormal Activity.A Create Podcast Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to Persuasion, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. Austen began writing Persuasion in 1815, during a period of declining health, yet the novel's style shows a maturity and restraint distinct from her earlier works. Many readers have noted its quieter, more autumnal tone—reflecting themes of second chances, endurance, and the slow rekindling of love. It was published posthumously along with Northanger Abbey, and stands today as one of her most poignant achievements. In the last episode, Anne is thrilled to sense Captain Wentworth's rekindled interest in her at the concert. Mr. Elliot's vying interest in her apparently leaves Wentworth to storm out early in vexation, and leaves Anne in astonishment. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on 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

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on 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/literary-studies

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on 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/biography

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on the New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on 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/british-studies

Agatha Christie is a global bestseller. Her work has been translated into over 100 languages and adapted for stage and screen. Christie's writing life ran from 1920 to the 1970s, and she didn't just write puzzles, she wrote plays, supernatural stories, thrillers, satires, and domestic noir. She also commented obliquely but perceptively on the social and cultural changes of a troubled century. Christie's work tells the story of a changing Britain, but perhaps her greatest achievement is not to be limited by that national context. Her stories achieve the rare feat of appearing both universal and specific and can seemingly be adapted for almost any context. Agatha Christie: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford UP, 2025) investigates why the novels of a middle-class, middlebrow Englishwoman were so successful, and why they continue to appeal to such a broad range of readers. Chapters explore the context of Christie's writing, and the clue-puzzle detective fiction structure at which she excelled, but they also question the familiar assumptions that surround her and what we think we know about her work. Gill Plain examines Christie's capacity to register the zeitgeist, and considers how her novels reveal anxieties surrounding gender roles, the family, war, justice, ethics, and nation. Her fascination with hypocrisy, power, abuse, deceit, and despair continues to resonate with readers - and screenwriters - who respond to her light touch and dark imagination to repurpose her stories with the fears and desires most appropriate to their time. Gill Plain is Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. Alongside a lifelong preoccupation with crime fiction, she has research interests in British literature, cinema, and culture of the mid-twentieth century, war writing, feminist theory and gender studies. She is the author of Women's Fiction of the Second World War (1996); Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body (2001); and Literature of the 1940s: War, Postwar and 'Peace' (2013). Daniel Moran's writing about literature and film can be found on Pages and Frames. He earned his B.A. and M.A. in English from Rutgers University and his Ph.D. in History from Drew University. The author of Creating Flannery O'Connor: Her Critics, Her Publishers, Her Readers, he teaches research and writing and co-hosts the long-running podcast Fifteen-Minute Film Fanatics, found here on the New Books Network.

In 1913, a St. Louis housewife named Pearl Curran sat down at a Ouija board and claimed to make contact with a spirit called Patience Worth—a seventeenth-century Englishwoman who spoke in archaic language and spun tales with uncanny speed. What began as a parlor amusement soon erupted into a literary mystery: novels, poems, and dialogues flowed effortlessly through Pearl, though she had no known training in such artistry. Was this the voice of a forgotten soul, the hidden genius of an unlikely medium, or just a big hoax, either for profit, or simply to cure boredom? SOURCES Litvag, Irving (1972) Singer in the Shadows: The Strange Story of Patience Worth. Macmillan, NY, USA. Yost, Casper S. (1916) Patience Worth: A Psychic Mystery. Henry Holt & Co. NY, USA. Prince, Walter Franklin (1927) The Case of Patience Worth. Boston Society for Psychic Research, Boston, USA. St. Louis GLobe Democrat (1915) The Mystery of Patience Worth. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Sun 7 Feb 1915, p41. USA. St. Louis GLobe Democrat (1915) The Mystery of Patience Worth. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Sun 14 Feb 1915, p41. USA. St. Louis GLobe Democrat (1915) The Mystery of Patience Worth. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Sun 21 Feb 1915, p41. USA. St. Louis GLobe Democrat (1915) The Mystery of Patience Worth. St. Louis Globe Democrat, Sun 28 Feb 1915, p41. USA. The New York Times (1916) Patience Worth A Psychic Mystery. The New York Times, Sun 27 Feb 1916, p69. NY, USA. ------ For almost anything, head over to the podcasts hub at ⁠⁠darkhistories.com ⁠⁠ Support the show by using our link when you sign up to Audible: ⁠⁠http://audibletrial.com/darkhistories⁠⁠ or visit our Patreon for bonus episodes and Early Access: ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/darkhistories⁠⁠ The Dark Histories books are available to buy here: ⁠⁠http://author.to/darkhistories⁠⁠ Dark Histories merch is available here: ⁠⁠https://bit.ly/3GChjk9⁠⁠ Connect with us on Facebook: ⁠⁠http://facebook.com/darkhistoriespodcast⁠⁠ Or find us on Twitter: ⁠⁠http://twitter.com/darkhistories⁠⁠ & Instagram: ⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/dark_histories/⁠⁠ Or you can contact us directly via email at ⁠⁠contact@darkhistories.com⁠⁠ or join our Discord community: ⁠⁠https://discord.gg/cmGcBFf⁠⁠ The Dark Histories Butterfly was drawn by Courtney, who you can find on Instagram @bewildereye Music was recorded by me © Ben Cutmore 2017 Other Outro music was Paul Whiteman & his orchestra with Mildred Bailey - All of me (1931). It's out of copyright now, but if you're interested, that was that. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife.  In the last episode, Anne navigates Bath's tightly woven social circuits—frequenting parties and strolling the streets—she continues to hope for a meaningful conversation with Wentworth, while contending with Lady Russell's lingering disapproval and Mr. Elliot's calculated charm. When a concert presents itself as a likely opportunity, Anne sets aside a visit to her friend Mrs. Smith in hopes of finally seeing Wentworth again—and possibly learning the truth of his feelings once and for all. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In 1963, Jessica Mitford published her remarkable account of the American funeral industry, An American Way of Death. Over sixty years later, another distinguished Englishwoman, the workplace futurist Julia Hobsbawm, is announcing the death of the American way of work. Whereas Mitford exposed the predatory practices of funeral directors, Hobsbawn reveals how corporate America has become equally disconnected from reality—clinging to outdated workplace models while other nations innovate. From Thomas Edison's countless inventions to Henry Ford's revolutionary assembly line, Hobsbawm notes, America dominated innovative 20th century work practices. But as countries like the UAE introduce more flexible policies than Silicon Valley, and demographic shifts reshape global labor markets, American corporations are "sleepwalking into disaster” by failing to adapt to both generational changes and to the post-pandemic workplace revolution. 1. America's Century of Workplace Dominance Is Ending"I've always thought that America has dominated a century of the way the world works. I mean, everything we live and work on from, you know, the computer or the credit card or the communications industry, the car, it's all been American."Hobsbawm argues that while America invented modern work culture—from Edison's innovations to Ford's assembly lines—its grip on workplace leadership is slipping as other nations pioneer new approaches.2. Corporate America Is in Denial About Post-Pandemic Reality"There is a desire on behalf of boards, corporate leaders, large corporates to, quote unquote, go back, to be quite rosy tinted in their spectacle view of what the past of work looked like."She warns that American executives are refusing to acknowledge how fundamentally the pandemic changed worker expectations, instead clinging to outdated models while demanding returns to traditional office structures.3. Other Countries Are Now Leading Workplace Innovation"On the 1st of April this year the UAE introduced pretty much the most flexible working policies anywhere in the world, outside of the Nordics and the UK... America is weaker in the culture of work and the workplace policies around flexibility."Nations once considered less progressive are now outpacing Silicon Valley on workplace flexibility, while American companies retreat from forward-thinking policies.4. The One-Size-Fits-All Model Is Dead"There is now a complete disaggregation of what norm is. And that is what is so difficult for businesses and corporations... you cannot impose a one-size-fits-all."Hobsbawm identifies this as "the Achilles heel of the American way of work"—the inability to adapt to diverse, individualized worker needs across different generations and cultures.5. Work Change Is the Defining Challenge of Our Time"Work change is the new climate change. Every single workplace, every single worker, every single workforce, every single city product is going to be changed continuously."She positions workplace transformation as the most critical issue facing society, requiring the same urgency and comprehensive response as climate change. 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

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne unexpectedly encounters Admiral Croft while walking alone in Bath. She finds him cheerfully absorbed in critiquing a print of a ridiculous-looking boat in a shop window. They walk together, the Admiral talking freely and humorously about mutual acquaintances and life in Bath. Once they reach a quieter street, he shares surprising news: Louisa Musgrove is to marry Captain Benwick—not Captain Wentworth, as everyone had assumed. Anne is stunned but conceals her reaction. She expresses hopes that Captain Wentworth isn't wounded by the match or by his friend's involvement. The Admiral reassures her that Wentworth's letter conveyed no bitterness and that he wishes the couple happiness. Still, Anne senses more complexity beneath the surface.Shortly afterward, Anne, while waiting out a light rain in a shop with her relatives, unexpectedly sees Captain Wentworth walking down Milsom Street. The shock is overwhelming. She tries to compose herself, only to see him enter the same shop moments later. Their meeting is awkward and emotionally charged. He seems flustered and speaks to her with visible discomfort—very unlike his previously composed manner. They exchange brief, formal conversation, but Anne is left deeply affected by his presence and the unresolved feelings between them. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Quaranteam – Book 1: Part 14 Andy reconnects with his past, and Emily explores. Based on a post by CorruptingPower, in 25 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. And, after two weeks of trying to subtly discern it from her, Andy eventually just asked Taylor what she did for a living, and Taylor informed Andy that she'd been a phlebotomist before moving into the Rook household, and once she was done with her time in the penalty box, she would go back to it. It was the first step she had taken towards eventually becoming an anesthetist, which was her long term goal. She'd met Lauren when the Aussie had needed someone to come in and blood test a few of the 49ers she was training. Taylor insisted that if Andy ever wanted her to stay in his bed for a night, she would without reservation, but that otherwise, she would be sleeping in the same bed with Lauren, who had set up her own bedroom now, so as to not wake Andy when she left early in the morning for practice.               Piper and Sheridan had also set up their own bedrooms, for similar reasons. Piper insisted her workout routine begin at the butt crack of dawn, and she also had a tendency to go to bed almost immediately after dinner, and Sheridan had started joining her in those hours, although the two women had very different work out routines in the morning. Andy had never been awake for any of them, but both of the women had filmed themselves working out, so he could see what they were up to in the wretched early hours. Aisling, Niko, Emily and Sarah had flatly refused to sleep away from Andy, although the order they laid against one another in the bed at night varied quite regularly. At various points over the last few days, he'd woken up in the night to find Emily quietly making out with each of the other three. He was a little surprised that Emily and Sarah didn't want another bedroom for times when the two of them wanted to fool around with just each other. He'd asked them about it, but Sarah had just teased him and insisted that when they did, he should be nearby in case he wanted to watch or join in. The craziest part of the day, however, was when Emily came to track him down in his office just before dinner with a rather baffling request. He'd spent most of the day writing, knowing that tomorrow there would be new women joining the household, and that he'd likely get very little work done on that day. He felt like he was very close to considering the draft for what he was now calling "The Doppleganger's Identity," the next book in the Druid Gunslinger series, ready for his first pass readers to take a look at, and hoped to wrap it up today. It would certainly stop Sarah from asking him yet again when she could read it, since she had insisted she get a spot on that esteemed small council. He kept the door to his office open most of the time, but Emily insisted on knocking before entering the room anyway. "Andrew, love, I know you're writing right now, but might I bother you for just a skosh?" she said, smiling at him in that disarmingly charming English way of hers. "It's never a bother, Em," he said, closing up his laptop. "You know, you're the only one of my partners I'm okay with calling me 'Andrew?' Anyone else does it, and I know I'm in trouble, but you somehow make me not hate the sound of my full name. C'mon in. Sit down, talk to me." The blonde Englishwoman sashayed into the room before lifting one of his legs so she could sit down on the footstool in front of his writing chair. She was wearing a billowy floral print dress that hung down past her knees, loose fitting but still draped enticingly well. Andy wondered if maybe it was tailor made for her, but before he could think to ask, she launched into the reason she'd come to see him. "My agent received a rather odd request today, and I wanted to come and talk to you about it before I answered it. If you're not comfortable with it, I would completely understand that, but I personally think that it would be an excellent thing for us to do, so I hoped we might talk a bit about it before you came to any decision, and perhaps I could bring you around to my way of thinking." Andy set his laptop on the coffee table to the side of his writing chair and shifted to sit up a little bit. "Who's the request from, and what is it that you think I might be uncomfortable with?" "It came from the office of the president, if you can believe it. My agent said President Pelosi didn't call personally, but a member of her staff did." Emily took his large hands in her small ones, holding onto them softly as she kept his gaze focused on her sapphire blue eyes. Clearly whatever they were going to discuss was of great importance. "When the announcement hits next week, they're expecting much of the nation to be in rather dire shock. Such massive casualties means the American way of life going forward is going to have to be something extremely different than what it once was, something radical and new." She licked her lips, a touch of nervousness Andy wasn't sure he'd seen from the usually confident young woman before. "Something like us. To sort of help assert the new norms in the minds of the general public, they want a handful of celebrities to do talk show appearances, with the hosts who are still alive anyway, and most of them seem to have made it out okay, and talk about their new family units, how polyamory is going to be the lay of the land, and how the laws are immediately being changed so that a single man can have multiple wives, to help repopulate the country after the severe losses." Andy laughed a little bit. "If you want to go on television, Em, you certainly don't need my permission. What makes you think I'd be against that?" She smiled at him kindly, and he realized immediately he'd missed what she'd been specifically asking him. "I don't just want to go on television by myself, Andrew. I want to go on television with you and with Sarah and maybe with a couple of the other girls, Niko in particular. I think it's important that we get out there as a new family unit, on The Daily Show, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, Late Night With Seth Meyers, Jimmy Kimmel Live!, The Tonight Show, Good Morning America, anyone who wants to talk to us, so that we can help put the country a little more at ease that we are going to get through this. Normally, I would be most in favor of shielding all of you from the horror that is the paparazzi, just to keep my personal life simply that,  personal. But this is a very strange new world we find ourselves in, Andrew, and we need to help our fellow humans become comfortable with their new reality." "You sound pretty committed to the whole idea," he said, trying to keep his voice as non committal as possible, but Emily had gotten very good at reading him in the short time they'd been together, so he knew she could tell he wasn't entirely opposed to it, simply gauging how it would all work. The particulars of opening his private life to the entire world seemed a little daunting at first blush, but certainly not insurmountable. "We wouldn't be the only ones, I think it's important to stress that, love," she said, squeezing his hands a little bit. "And Sarah and I would also be coming out about our relationship with each other, so you wouldn't have to field a lot of questions if you didn't want to. We could take on the brunt of the questions if that makes it any easier. But I just know many people in this adopted homeland of mine are going to be frightened, and I think the idea to show them the way through would be a step in the right direction." She leaned her head down and kiss the tops of his hands before looking up at him. "Oh! And you could also use it to promote your books, if that might sweeten the pot a smidge. It might help, having twenty minutes of prime mental real estate for your face and your writing?" He chuckled, nodding his head. "You know as well as I do that my agent would string me up by my toes if I had a chance to get this much free publicity for my next novel and didn't take it, so how can I say no? I'm not going to hide from journalists. I'll do my fair share. Tell me how all this is going to work." She smiled, leaned in and kissed him, soft and tender, but for what felt like a delicious eternity. "We will set up the camera and microphones in Sarah and I's little studio, and then we'll just take an hour or so a day for a few weeks to record segments with whoever asks. The president's office wants us to do a 60 Minutes interview even before the announcement is made, as our sort of grand unveiling. For that, they're actually going to send Katie Couric here with a camera woman to do the interview in a few days. They're likely to want to do that in a larger room, or maybe out on the back deck, by the pool. They're going to do an entire show all about the deaths, the vaccine and the new post pandemic world we're starting to grow into. The ten to twenty minute interview with us will just be part of the larger package. They were hoping to have us for a day on the 14th. They're going to be filming at the base on the 13th and doing interviews with President Pelosi on the 15th. The president's representative seemed to think Niko might be a good link between the two segments, if she was one of the people helping to give the tour of the base, and the vaccination process. I asked Niko about it, and she said she wouldn't mind if you didn't, but that I had to ask you first. The whole episode of the show is going to air immediately after the President's speech on the 20th." "Good lord, sounds like they've got all this planned out. I'm surprised I didn't hear from the Office of the President personally." Emily offered him another smile, and considered her next words carefully. It wasn't that she worried about bruising his ego, because Andy had never come across that way, but she also didn't want to seem too full of herself. "Love, I've been a very well known movie star for a decade now, so I think they figured out where I was first and went from there. That's no slight against you! I'm just saying that you aren't a household name that millions of people recognize, and, for better or worse, I am. The Dagger Academy movies were everywhere, as were the books. Simon, my costar in the movies, he's still living in England, so he's in an entirely different world than we are here in the States." Andy grinned. "Oh, I know, I know. All I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt for the President to have called me herself, y'know. But that's fine. It's fine." "Well, when the paparazzi are struggling to get topless photos of you in Ibiza, then we'll have a conversation about how you aren't being taken seriously as an artist, alright darling?" She giggled a little. "It was fun, teasing them, knowing they so desperately wanted to get images of my tits to sell, and that a bidding war would erupt for the image." "They are excellent tits, Em." "Bless you, love. But you're never going to convince me they're as nice as, say, Sarah's or Hannah's. And all those tits, theirs and mine, are exclusively the purview of this family now and forever more, so the paparazzo can fuck right off. So, the interview? You'll do it? You'll dance for the media circus with us, for the good of the nation?" "I'll do almost all of it, sure." She tilted her head slightly in confused amusement, that coy smile on her pink lips, as her tender fingers squeezed his thigh. "Almost all of it? Which part of it am I going to have to have to convince you for?" He rolled his eyes a little, a playful smirk on his lips. "I'll do all the evening shows, magazines, newspapers and website interviews you want me to, but doing Good Morning America might be a hill too far, simply because of how goddamn early I'd have to get up for it." "Or we could simply stay up very late and do it before bed," she said, moving to slide off the footstool so she could climb into his lap. "I'm sure we could find some way to keep you awake and alert that far into the night. Four thirty in the morning our time could give us the opportunity to go on live television with sex hair," she said, waggling her eyebrows at him lasciviously. "Oh, and I'm not gonna do Fox News." "Christ, love, haven't you heard? They're barely running a skeleton crew over there. Most of their on air talent died over the last few months, and now that the women are in charge over there, they're losing some of that ridiculous bullshit they used to be spouting." Andy chuckled, shaking his head a little bit. "All it took was most of the men dying." "It's pretty hard to pretend the plague isn't a real thing when it keeps killing people off left and right, dear," she said. "The rescheduled Presidential election next month is going to be between Senators Kamala Harris and Susan Collins, two women. That's never happened before in the history of this country. The vast majority of people voting in the election are going to be women. This is all completely unprecedented, so all those women who have felt powerless for so many years, this is their chance to shine. But the old tribal lines are still going to be there, even if the genders of the people leading those parties has changed. Republicans will still be Republicans and Democrats will still be Democrats. But there's too many dead people for everyone to go on pretending like the plague isn't real, or that it's not better to not get a grip on the new reality. One side was already telling their people that the plague wasn't real, so more of their men died than the on the other side. They can't afford to do that any more. So the new Fox News agenda is to go back to simple fiscal conservatism, pro military and pro old school Christianity stances. They're just going to drop all the anti woman bullshit that they've been poisoning their own wells with for so long." "And all it took was most of their men dying." Andy rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll leave it up to you on whether or not you want to do any of the Fox News shit." "Oh heavens no," Emily laughed, shaking her head. "No, you couldn't pay me enough to appear in front of those horrid people. They've been trying to tell me they have the right to regulate my body for decades but that I should keep my mouth shut when it comes to how they spend the money I pay in taxes. At least a few of their remaining hosts have called me horrible things for daring to disagree with them. 'Entertainers should be sit down and be quiet when it comes to politics,' they've said about me for far too long. Fuck that, darling. I'm having none of it." "Well, on that we can agree." "Now, I do believe I have some convincing to be doing," she said, licking her lips playfully, as she slid off his lap and down onto her knees before him, pushing his legs apart. "That's really not necessary, Em," he said, reaching forward to put a hand on her shoulder, but her delicate fingers moved to grab his wrists, lifting them so that one of his hands was along the back of her neck, and the other was sliding up into that radiant cascade of blonde hair. "It might not be necessary, Andrew, but that isn't to say I wouldn't enjoy it anyway," she said, her hands moving to unbutton his jeans, slowly drawing the zipper down. "Because sometimes a girl just needs to get her fix, you know?" She leaned down and kissed part of his exposed stomach. "You wouldn't deny me that, would you, love? Not innocent little me?" "I don't know that I could deny you anything, Emily," he chuckled. She licked her lips, those inescapable blue eyes of hers looking up at him. "That's what I like to hear. Because it's time for me to do something before Sarah does." She fished out his cock, tucking his balls over his boxers to protect them from accidentally getting caught in the zipper of the jeans, because she wasn't willing to wait long enough to pull his jeans off. "I let her have first go at you, but I'm entitled to have some firsts with you before she gets a chance. That's fair, isn't it?" She leaned down and pressed her pink lips against the head of his cock, covering it in tiny kisses. "I think we can both agree that's only fair." "I seem to recall you and Sarah taking turns blowing me at the same time," he said, tilting his head a little. "I wouldn't say she got there first." "She got to fuck you first though, Andrew," she sighed, stroking his cock tenderly. "And I understand why. She's madly in love with you because of your writing, although she's very much fallen in love with the man behind that writing as well." Her tongue slipped out and dragged a long trail across the bottom of his cock, from the base up to the tip, teasing the slit with the tip of her tongue for only a split second. "Me, on the other hand, I fell in love with the man first, when I heard all the lengths you'd gone to in protecting the women who'd chosen to hitch their wagons to your train. Niko painted such a wonderful portrait of you, and you haven't failed to live up to that yet." "I'm always going to put my family's needs above my own, Em," he said, shivering as he felt her pursing her lips around the mushroom tip of his circumcised cock for a long moment. "So what is you want to do before Sarah, hmm?" "Oh, bless, Andrew, I would've thought it would've been obvious," she giggled, blowing air along his cock, teasing his balls with her finely manicured fingernails. "I want you up the serviceman's entrance. I want you in my ass, before Sarah thinks to ask you to do it to her. We've had fingers and small toys up both hers and my asshole before, naturally, but never the real thing, and I'm afraid I simply cannot risk the chance that she get the opportunity to convince you to do it to her before you do it to me. I want to have at least one first of my very own with you before she does, and while I'm a little nervous, I must confess I am also rather excited. First times are always so exhilarating." Andy licked his own lips, swallowing a breath of air. "First times can also be quite intense, Em. Even overwhelming." "Yes yes yes Andrew, that's why I'm going to ask you if you can remember a color code when you're worked up. I know those kinds of sensations can be, distracting to self control, but you've always struck me as level headed." Her tongue took a long swirling path around the underside of the head of his cock, and his fingers tightened in her sandy hair a moment, clenching a fistful of it, which evoked a clear quiver of delight from the girl. "What do you mean a color code?" "You see, when Sarah and I are adventuring into, shall we say, uncharted sexual waters between the two of us, we use a color code. If one of us says 'green,' then things are wonderful, enjoyable and the other should carry on full steam ahead. If one of us says 'yellow,' then perhaps a bit of caution or easing back is needed. If one of us says 'red,' then a moment's rest is needed, or second thoughts are being had, and it's best to stop, until the other is ready to go again. Like a stoplight. We strike the use of those colors for any other uses when we're on the code." She looked up at him with those tender azure orbs again, soft and warm, as her fingertips stroked his shaft and juggled his balls. "Would that be alright, Andrew?" He leaned forward and kissed her again, and this time he found her not only pliant but a touch more eagerly wanton than she'd been moments ago. "Of course, love," he said to her. "But just be careful and remember you can't use those words for anything else while we're in color code mode." She titled her head to the side, a curious expression of amusement on her face. "Oh? Do you anticipate me slipping? I'm quite bright, you know," she teased, winking at him. "I have a degree in feminist studies from Cambridge and everything." He smirked a little bit. "I simply thought you might ask me to paddle your ass red, and then I'd have been more than a little conflicted from the mixed signals." She began to giggle fiercely, having even to take one of her hands from his cock up to cover her mouth, as she nodded furiously, her blonde curls falling in front of her face before her hand lifted from lips and pushed it from her eyes. "You're right! You're right you're right you are absolutely right, I most certainly would have done that, said that without even thinking about it, and what a right git I would've looked, while you would've been standing there frozen in fear that you'd gone too far." "You think you can keep that in mind, then?" She nodded once more, this time more slow and deliberate, before she pressed her hands on the tops of her thighs, moving to stand herself up. "I had Nicolette conceal a couple of bottles of lube in nearly every room of the house, in case this particular stripe of lust struck one of us. She seemed to think it was an excellent idea." Andy couldn't help but snicker a little bit. "I'm sure she did. She seemed to enjoy the hell out of it when she got her turn at it a couple of days ago." Emily giggled again as she reached behind the couch in the corner of his writing studio, her fingers reemerging with a small bottle of lube in them. "I did notice her walking a little funny yesterday, but she wouldn't tell me when I asked her about it. She simply blushed a wonderful shade of crimson and walked away from me. So I take it you gave her the ol' heave ho?" He tried to keep that ain't I a stinker smile from spreading on his face, but in the end, he just couldn't help it. "She told me she likes to be a bit bratty and put into her place, so I stuffed her panties in her mouth while I had a go at her ass. She seemed to like that quite a bit." While Emily approached him, he stood up and tugged off his jeans and boxers, not wanting to get any of the lube on them, setting them on his writing chair. For the hell of it, he pulled off his shirt as well. The idea of resembling Donald Duck appalled him. Emily's eyes widened in amusement and delight, shaking her head frantically. "You didn't! You absolutely didn't! Tell me that you didn't, Andrew!" "I surely and truly did, and she loved it. She even made a point to tell me that it was exactly how I should have a go at her moving forward." "Well, not this time, but I might like to try something like that at some point in the future," she said, as she walked over to him, lifting her dress up and over her head, tossing it aside, revealing she was completely naked beneath it. "Mostly because it wouldn't let me speak the color code if need be, but also because I'm simply not wearing any panties today." She flashed him another saucy wink, as she moved to set up her cell phone to point at the couch. Andy suspected she might be filming it to show to Sarah later, or perhaps just for her own personal edification. "Now let me pour some of this lube on your cock, and you can tell me what position I should be in for my first time at this." He shivered a little as she drizzled clear fluid onto his prick, her slender fingers stroking his shaft again, making sure to get every inch of his thick cock slicked up as much as possible. "If you want total control, you could climb on for a ride, but some women think the sensations are just too intense, and tend to seize up, so they prefer to have the man controlling things. If that's more your speed, then you probably want to get on your knees on the couch, laying your arms down on the top of it, your head resting on your arms, or with your arms behind you, so you can grab at your legs, or rub on your clit. Lauren rubbed her cunt her entire first time, saying it helped the nerve endings get all tangled up in one another." She licked her lips, that tiny hint of reticence fading away the moment he saw it, as she nodded. "I do think it will all be simply too much for me to keep my head clear, so I think I will try the position on the couch, and you can be in the driver's seat." She handed him the small bottle of lube. "Make sure you get me slicked up before you go rampaging in, however." "You sure you  " His sentence was interrupted by her grabbing the back of his head, smearing lube on his skull while she pulled him into a feral, almost delirious kiss, her tongue rampaging into his mouth with a carnal frenzy that he didn't normally associate with his more restrained and reserved partner. When she pulled back, she didn't let her face move more than an inch away from his, her blue eyes peering directly into his greens. "I have been a posh prig my entire life, Andrew," she cooed at him in a sing song fashion. "Now it's time for you to take that stick out of my prim ass and jam this wicked cock up it instead. If you don't, I may well go mad, and that wouldn't be ideal for either of us, I somehow think. Now let's get to it." "As the lady requests," he said, watching her sashay away from him. She slid one knee up on the couch demurely, followed by the other, bending forward at the waist, leaning down until she was resting on her hands and knees on the plush sofa. God, she was gorgeous, he thought to himself. Almost criminally so. She held pose there as he walked over towards her, but as he got closer, she lowered her shoulders down towards the top of the couch, sliding her hands back behind her, to cup her perky porcelain white ass. "This is all yours, Andrew," she moaned. "Virginal. Unspoiled. Unsullied. Uncharted territory." She shivered and he could see goosebumps run across her skin as the lube started to drizzle down the cleft of her ass, smearing over that rosy pucker. "God, I feel so wanton and exposed like this, ready to be debauched and debased, your eager whore, giddy for you to introduce her to these new delights, to expand her horizons and blow her mind." Andy set the bottle on the table next to the couch, then moved to use two of his fingers to smear the clear liquid along her anus, seeing her body twitch and wriggle just a little bit, as he smeared the substance around, pushing his index finger inside of her, hearing her gasp sharply following by a tiny, high pitched yelp, as she clamped down on that digit. "How are we doing, Em?" She drew in a long breath that sounded like it took some effort before she exhaled, a slow controlled push of air over her lips, as that sphincter muscle relaxed around his fingertip. "Green! We're green, Andrew. I just, I simply needed a moment to compose myself once more. Your fingers are quick thicker than Sarah's," she said with a nervous laugh. "You're going to be getting something much bigger than that in a moment," he said. "If you still want it, that is. Not too late to change your mind." "I have come too far to back out now, Andrew." "You haven't cum at all, I don't think," he teased. "Shows what you know," she giggled once more, looking over her shoulder at him to stick her tongue out in his direction. "I definitely came when you pushed your finger in. The pre fuck jitters, one might think. Like a bloody schoolgirl, I am, right now." "Alright then," he said, as he slipped his fingertip out, her asshole closing up immediately. "Remember, you merely have to say what you want, and I'm going to listen." She nodded again, one hand reaching between her legs to rub her fingertips against her cunt, stroking her finely manicured digits against her cunt, as her other hand reached up and over behind her, grabbing one of her asscheeks, pulling it aside, as if to make sure she was open and exposed for him. "Let me feel it, Andrew, but go slow. Just a bit at first." Andy nodded, as he moved his hips, settling the tip of his cock against her asshole, which he felt spasm just a little when the mushroom head of his cock made contact with it. He gave her half a second to relax once more, then began to push forward. He leaned his body against hers, feeling some initial resistance, but after a few moments, the head of his cock popped through that ring of muscle, and a guttural, almost primitive moan erupted from her throat, loud and carnal. "Fuck that's big that's so fucking big yellow yellow Andy, yellow,” she rambled, and immediately Andy held perfectly still. "Too much?" he said, feeling her ass clinging onto the head of his cock with an intense amount of pressure. "Stop? Pull out? Just wait?" "Don't pull out! Are you fucking crazy?" she said, a borderline delirious laugh cackling from her lips. "I just, I just, just give me a moment, please, you're fucking big, you know that? You and your fat fucking cock feel like you've shoved a telephone pole up my tight young virgin ass, so I'm going to need a god damned moment, thank you very much, but don't you dare fucking slip out, or I will beat you bloody senseless with a cricket bat!" Andy blushed a little bit, a wry smile on his lips, as he held perfectly still. "In your own time, Em." The tiny blonde Brit drew in a long breath, then slowly exhaled it, like she was doing some form of yoga and trying to center her chi. She did it again, and Andrew started to get worried that maybe she simply wasn't ready for this, but just about the time that thought started to roll around in his head, he felt her starting to lean back against him just a little bit. "Green, Andrew, but,” she said, shifting her body just enough so that she could look back at him, "please, for heaven's sake, take it slowly." He nodded to her, and began to lean forward, feeling her body almost being pried apart as his cock worked his way inside of her virginal asshole. Her fingertips were rubbing down firmly on her clit, and while he tried to keep the forward momentum as slow as possible, when he was nearly half way into her ass, she suddenly pushed back into him, engulfing the rest of his cock in her back door, as a wash of goosebumps rolled across her flesh, starting at the small of her back and blossoming outwards in an instant flare, followed by a hard tremble intermingled with a high pitched whine that started racing upwards in octaves and volumes until it crested, breaking and dissolving into a frantic, almost demented giggle, as his balls rested against her fingers which hadn't stopped stroking at her cunt. "You alright, Em?" he asked. "Alright? Alright? Are you asking if I'm alright now, Andrew?" she hissed, although the tone was giddy and excited. "I am green, super green, all the greens! I am awesome, fucking brilliant. That felt,” she drew in a long breath, "So fucking good, and I came So fucking hard." Her head whipped to look directly at her cellphone camera. "Sares, it's like it builds and builds and builds, and you're getting more and more and more tense and then,” she said, pulling her hips forward, sliding his cock mostly back out of her ass before, "Wham!" she said as she slammed her ass back onto his cock hilt deep once more, and let out another unearthly moan. "Holy fuck, that feels so good. Your cock just jammed up right my ass, your balls resting right on my cunt." Her head snapped again to look back at him, and her soft and kind blue eyes had gone more than a little crazy. "Go on then, in for a penny, in for a pound. Pound your little penny. Go on, you dirty wanker. Do it to me! Fuck my ass!" At this point, he was pretty sure that if he had said 'red,' she would've ignored him and just played on through. The kind of wild lust in her eyes would've been completely unfamiliar to him if he hadn't seen it before, briefly, with both Piper and Sheridan, though those had been chemically induced. Later in the evening, he'd consider whether maybe she'd tapped into that same mental state that being deprived of his semen developed in women, but in that particular moment, the only thing he could do was to fuck Emily Stevens, film sweetheart of a generation, within an inch of her sanity. His hips drew back and then thrust forward, a solid grind on his first real pump, which was met by a hard squeeze of her ass around his cock and a burbling, uncorked moan oozing from her lips. He drew back again, but this time his forward thrust was met by the snap of her hips pushing her ass back into him, making her toned asscheeks ripple just a tiny amount. "Oh fuck, Andrew," she babbled, "I want more, but I know I'm going to cum soon, and once I start again, it's not going to stop, so I need it, I need you, I love you, I need you to fucking cum inside of my ass, fill it up with that hot spunk for the first time. Mark your territory with your seed! Please Andrew, I'm fucking begging you, let me have it, show my ass you love it, teach me this final thing. Fucking cum in my ass!" The entire time, she was doing more of the thrusting than he was, although he was trying to keep pace with her. And just towards the end, he knew that he wouldn't be able to stave off the impending orgasm for long, so at her insistence, he let loose a hot jet of jizz right into her ass. The minute he felt the first spurt escape him, it felt as though she clamped down on him in a fist like grasp, and then he felt a heavy rush of liquid against his balls, her cunt gushing all over them and down the inside of his thighs. The very sensation of it made him splattered a handful more blasts of cum into her ass before he stopped, one of his hands holding onto the back of the couch for dear life, as he felt her fingertips fall away from her cunt as her arm slumped downwards. He'd gone soft almost right away, but her ass was still trying to milk any last remaining droplets of cum from his cock with gentle squeezes, even as he finally slid out of her. Her body was mostly propped up by her knees, although her face was buried into the couch cushions. He waited a minute or so before he finally said, "You alright, Em?" She began giggling, slowly moving to roll onto her side, so he could see her face had turned bright red, the color of Sarah or Aisling's hair, and she was clutching one hand to her mouth, trying to contain the infectious laugh that would not be suppressed. "Holy fucking Christ, Andrew, I am so so so embarrassed by that," she whimpered. "I've, fuck, I've never done that before. I didn't know I could fucking do that, Christ, I'm made such a mess, how awful of me. I'm horrible." Andy knelt down alongside the couch, and leaned in to press his lips against hers. She struggled for half a moment, still caught up in her own awkwardness of the moment, before she gave in and simply returned the kiss, which he held for an endlessly long time. "Did you enjoy it?" he said, when he finally gave her a moment to breathe again. "Fuckin' 'ell, Andrew," she stumbled, "I think that would've been bloody obvious." "Then who the fuck cares about the mess?" He kissed her again, one hand stroking her sweaty hair from her face, the energy cooling down a little, as they both came down from the orgasmic plateaus they'd just been dancing in. "Besides, I'd have thought you'd enjoy the idea of telling Nicolette to come and clean my office without giving her any explanation into why." Emily face almost hurt from smiling so much as she nodded. "Thank you for this, Andrew, and for making me feel at home in my own body as it learns new things about itself." She looked down then looked up at him, almost a touch of fear in her eyes. "I know I've said it before, but it's important to me that you know this, Andrew. I well and truly love you, like no other man I've known before." "I love you too, Emily," he said, making sure he was looking directly into her eyes when he said it, so she would understand there were no reservations. "And I'm very glad you agreed to marry me. You've been not only good for me, you've been good for the whole house." "Oh shush, now my heart's all aflutter," she said, moving to stand up, pausing to wince for a second. "Well, I'll jolly well feel that for the next few days. It's sore and it's still tingling in pleasure. Both, together, at the same time. What an odd delight." He laughed, grabbing her dress for her, holding it out. "Go on, get dressed and bring Nicolette in here to see the mess that you've made for her to clean up. I'll bet she's not at all embarrassed, and more than a little jealous." "You know, I suspect you might well be correct, Andrew. Brilliant." A cast list intermission for Quaranteam The House of Rook Andy Rook,  A 38 year old content writer for Netflix, who also lives a double life as semi successful urban fantasy writer Blake Conrad, known for his Druid Gunslinger books. Shaved head, neatly trimmed brown beard, 5'11", hazel eyes, tattooed on the chest with a griffon, could stand to lose a few pounds. Originally from Ohio, has lived in the Bay Area for over a decade. Our protagonist, such as he is. Still reaping the benefits from one random act of kindness to a stranger named Dave. Aisling (Ash) Blake,  A 27 year old graphic design contractor for Google. Originally from Dublin, she's lived in the States for 4 years. Red hair, freckles, short (5'4"), fit. Outgoing and charming, but also protective of Andy. Aisling showed up first (at the same time as Lily) and has helped keep Andy level headed and sane throughout the entire ordeal. Pregnant with Andy's child. Engaged to Andy. Lauren White,  A 35 year old personal trainer for the San Francisco 49ers. Originally from Australia, she's lived in the States for 2 years. Very tall (6'6"), very tan, blonde, athletic, emotionally involved with Taylor as much as (if not more so) Andy. Lauren is big and boisterous, but has a tendency to not think things fully through. 2nd Lieutenant Niko RedWolf,  A 22 year old Air Force Security Forces officer (military police). Originally from South Dakota. Half Lakota, one quarter Mexican and one quarter Japanese. Long black hair, toned and slender. 5'4". Sarcastic, wry and witty, Niko has basically become Andy's right hand woman, along with Ash, whom she considers her best friend. She's helped provide endless insight to the vaccine program being managed at the local Air Force base, where she works. Also pregnant with Andy's child and engaged to him. Nicolette (Yvette) Seydeaux (staff),  The 22 year old maid of Rook Manor. Blonde, with long curly hair. Extremely buxom. 5'9" or 6'1" (in heels). Second generation French American. Enjoys wearing classic maids outfits and being a bratty submissive. Pretended to be named Yvette at first, at the suggestion of Phil. Katie Rodriguez (staff),  The 32 year old gardener of Rook Manor. Hispanic, butch, 5'8", with short black hair cut in a bob, almost always seen in overalls and a button up shirt. Lesbian and wife of Jenny Peters. Had reservations about the program, but wanted to ensure safety for her and her wife, so they took the deal and came to join the House of Rook. Jenny Peters (staff),  The 31 year old cook of Rook Manor. Midwestern and plump, 5'8", with brown bushy hair. Wears large circular glasses. Tends to be overly motherly. Bisexual and wife of Katie Rodriguez. Taylor Morrison,  The 25 year old ex ex girlfriend of Lauren White. Platinum blonde, stacked, short (5'2"). Currently still in the doghouse for cheating on Lauren almost a year ago, but close to working her way out of her trouble. As part of her current punishment (dictated by Lauren), she is not allowed to wear clothes. Piper Brown,  A 26 year old Olympic Volleyball player. Brunette, tall (6'2"), muscular but lean, blue eyed. Went viral for a video of her pre game warm up dance. Still slightly recovering from abusive treatment at Andrew Covington's home. Asha Varma,  An 18 year old college student and daughter of Dr. Charlotte Varma. Half Indian, half French, raised in London until last year. Brown skin, black hair, pierced navel, wild child attitude. 5'6". Party girl and socialite, Asha tends to enjoy causing trouble, as it gets her attention. Has some growing up to do. Sarah (Sares) Washington,  A 31 year old actress. 6'2", redheaded, quirky, clumsy and a bit dorky. Originally from New Jersey. Swears like breathing. Very girl next door. Huge fan of the Druid Gunslinger books, and had a crush on Andy before she even met him. Big lover of Broadway theater and musicals, both attending and performing in. Partner of Emily Stevens. Engaged to Andy. Emily (Em) Stevens,  A 30 year old actress, 5'1", blonde, blue eyed, pale, slender, very posh, British. Left London for L A just a few years ago. Incredibly charming and witty, with an almost supernatural social sense. Grew up as a child actress in a wildly popular series of movies called "The Dagger Academy" series, but has since struggled to establish a successful acting career outside that role. Partner of Sarah Washington. Engaged to Andy. Sheridan Smith,  A 32 year old acrobat and performer for Cirque Du Soleil. 5'7" Blonde, frizzy hair, slender and extremely flexible. Very laid back and go with the flow. Has been teaching the girls of the house yoga in her spare time. Hannah Nakamura,  And 18 year old college student and former cheerleader. Half Hawaiian, half Japanese. Short (5'1"), Asian, with long black hair with blonde stripes in it. Curvy, very well endowed (44G) and a firecracker of energy. Originally supposed to be joining the House of Watkins, she is much happier being part of the House of Rook. The House of Yang Eric Yang,  A 39 year old engineer, and Andy's former roommate. Second generation Japanese American. Short (5'5") but athletic, if a bit shy and bookish. Piggybacked on Andy's one good deed into a complete life change he wasn't expecting. Andy and Eric are friends, but not overly close ones, despite having shared a condo for most of a decade. Lily Wu,  a 25 year old coder for Door Dash. Second generation Japanese American. Dyed purple hair, short (5'2"), punkish. Eric's first partner, who expected to be his only partner only for life to get majorly in the way. Lily is the iron fist that runs the House of Yang, sometimes making decisions for Eric so he doesn't spend too long dwelling on them. Jenny Carnero,  a 28 year old meteorologist for the local Fox News channel. Statuesque brunette (5'10") who always remains overly tanned. Lily's ex roommate who had to be rescued after fleeing from the person she was supposed to be paired up with, before getting paired up with Eric. Threatened to tell her story to the reporters at the station she worked at, but Lily convinced her that doing so would be bad for all involved. Phil cleaned the mess up. Sarah Wilson,  a 26 year old HR specialist with Adobe Systems. Short (5'3"), blonde, Nordic and curvy. Originally from Kansas. The House of Marcos Phil Marcos,  a 34 year old Filipino project manager for Boeing, working in conjunction with the Air Force to manage the vaccine development/distribution program trying counter the epidemic. Probably involved in a sizable amount of heavily classified shit. Tall (5'11"), slender and usually exhausted. Has a deep love of fighting games and mischief. Phil always knows more than he can talk about. Audrey Percy,  a 29 year old Hispanic psychologist. Short (5'1"), very curvy. Also a big fighting games fan. Has been doing her best to keep Phil sane throughout the apocalypse. One of the first successful recipients of the current vaccine. Pregnant with Phil's child and engaged to him. Captain Linda Hayes,  a 35 year old Caucasian captain in the Air Force. Blonde, fit, lethal. Also doubling at Phil's bodyguard most days. Tamika Jefferson,  an 18 year old African American college student. Short (5'2"), curvy, disaffected and disinterested in most things. Yuko Takahashi,  a 22 year old first generation Japanese immigrant and video game engineer. Very short (4'10"), very slender but extremely agile. The most sarcastic of Phil's partners. Dr. Charlotte Varma,  a 44 year old French infectious disease researcher working with the Air Force and Boeing. Lead developer on the current vaccine. Average height (5'7"), blonde, matronly but also a bit bougie. Originally from Paris, she moved to London and married Dev Varma, before they emigrated to the US earlier this year with their teenage daughter, Asha (now part of the House of Rook). Was rescued by Andy but chose to go with Phil. The House of Covington Arthur Robert Covington IV,  a 63 year old investment banker. Considers himself the most important person in New Eden. Certainly is the richest. A horrible prick with a rumored proclivity for making his partners do awful things. Runs a regular poker game where people are used as stakes. The person Andy hates the most. Lisa Davis,  a 25 year old graphic design contractor for Google. Ex colleague of Aisling. Partner for Covington, who does not allow her to speak in public. Ash has been trying to find ways to talk to her on the side. Rachel DeMarco,  a 28 year old infectious disease researcher working with the Air Force and Boeing. Has only been spoken of, not actually see in the story thusfar. Veronica DeLaCruz (deceased),  a 27 year old Hispanic card dealer for the House of Covington privately, as well as professionally over at a local casino. Cheated on her partner (Arthur) with a man named Brian Morrison, and the sexual encounter resulted in her death. The first fatality in New Eden, her death is being used to remind women the dangers involved in being unfaithful in the new world. The House of Vikovic Gregor Vikovic,  a 52 year old business owner. Russian, huge (6'2", 275lbs), mucular, with a big braided silver beard and a fondness for expensive things, particular food and drink. One of the more elite members of New Eden. The House of Watkins Nathaniel Watkins,  a 41 year old investor and insanely rich self made gadfly. Tall (6'1"), lean and Waspy, Nathaniel tends to look more like an out of work yoga instructor than the forty first richest man in the world. His brown beard is always somewhat disheveled, and seems to relish always walking around in socks and Birkenstocks. Has a friendly relationship with Andy, whom he gave a shitload of money to, seemingly to punish his son. Benny Watkins,  an 18 year old high school student. Benny is Nathaniel's biggest failure, spoiled and thoughtless, entitled and arrogant. His claiming of Deborah Barnes resulted in his punishment by his father, and the reassignment of Hannah to Andy. Deborah Barnes,  a 34 year old veterinarian from Los Gatos, originally from Kansas. She was originally assigned to Nathaniel, who used her as a stake in one of Covington's poker games. She was won by Andy, but Benny claimed her before she could be relocated. As part of Benny's punishment, Deborah's been assigned control of Benny. Erin Donegal,  a 36 year old pharmaceutical representative. Dated and lived with Andy about a decade ago until she gave him an ultimatum “ "either your friends go, or I do." Andy gave her the boot, and she stalked him on and off since then. Second generation Irish American. Blonde (but dyes her hair brown), curvy. Andy refused to bring her into his house, and she was reassigned to the House of Watkins. The House Of Haunton Mayor James Haunton,  the 54 year old mayor of New Eden. Portly and short tempered. Has a mustache that whole bowls of soup could get lost in. Major Monica Peters,  the 36 year old wife of the mayor, who doubles as the greeter and tour guide of New Eden for the most recent arrivals. The House of Jacobson Jake Jacobson,  the 49 year old owner of the AllStore chain of department stores. Jet black hair with a pencil thin mustache. More reptilian than human, with beady eyes and a perpetual sneer on his face. Hot tempered, petty and vindictive.. The House of Baker Xander Baker,  a 38 year old auto mechanic and car restorer from Ohio. Andy's oldest and best friend. Being relocated to New Eden to get paired up with Captain Betsy Ross. Covered in tattoos, ridiculously muscular, Xander is a gentle giant. Not to be allowed near karaoke machines under peril of death. Captain Betsy Ross,  a 34 year old Air Force officer, working on the reconstruction program, rebuilding America's heavily damaged infrastructure. Soon to be Xander's first partner. Brooke Maloney,  a 24 year old Olympic swimmer, and friend of Piper. Second generation Swedish American. Blonde, short (5'4") and extremely athletic. Originally, Piper was trying to convince Andy to bring Brooke into the House of Rook, but Andy immediately recognized her personality would be a better fit for Xander, and asked Phil to help redirect her. The House of, Dave? Dave, something or other?,  a thirty(ish) something(?) quarantine management engineer for the CDC, who came to test Andy and Eric, and found out that Andy was secretly Dave's favorite author. In exchange for an advance copy of the newest unpublished Druid Gunslinger book, he put Andy and Eric into the system as Top Level V I P, which has changed their life forever. Nice dude, but Dave's just this guy, you know? Chapter 29 The next day, Andy and Ash met up with Eric and Lily for lunch in a restaurant, something they still weren't accustomed to, even though they'd done it a couple of times since moving into New Eden. They'd been in quarantine so long that the basic things like eating out felt alien. They'd found a nice little BBQ joint that someone had opened within the walls of New Eden, and Andy was ecstatic. Andy's hope was that they were going to keep getting more varieties of food in their new home town. The little 1950s dinner was nice, but the village needed things like a Mexican joint, a Chinese restaurant, a ramen house, a place where he could get a banh mi, Andy realized he really just needed the place to be less exclusively white. The guy who owned and ran the BBQ was a big black guy named Bryant Walters who'd apparently played football for the 49ers a couple of decades ago. He'd settled in the Bay after his football career ended, and he had brought his love of southern BBQ to opening his own restaurant, called "Smoke On The Water." He had a dozen of his own BBQ sauces, brisket that he smoked for at least twelve hours and some of the best damn ribs Andy had ever tasted. It didn't hurt that Bryant was also massively friendly, making sure to come out and talk to patrons of the place. The wait staff was comprised of his partners, five women in all, at least one a former 49ers cheerleader. Over lunch, Andy made sure to tell Bryant that he should have delivery service for the community, and the big burly man told him that was an excellent idea, and that he'd start working on a website for online orders. The meal was the first chance that Andy and Eric had really been able to sit down and catch up one on one since they'd gotten to New Eden. Sure, they'd seen each other at parties and big gatherings, but with just Ash and Lily there, it felt like a throwback to the first days of the whole adventure when they'd been a pair of new couples sharing a tiny little condo. "So yeah, what with all the casualties on my team, I've been promoted up the food chain to be director of the division," Eric said, poking at his brisket with his fork. "I like the responsibility and the increase in pay, but it's also incredibly depressing to think about all the former coworkers that died, none of whose funerals I can attend, because nobody's allowing funerals." "Yeah," Andy sighed, "Phil told me they're moving to mass cremations now, since so many people died. They'll probably build some sort of memorial after we're through all of this, like the Vietnam Wall or Ground Zero for 9/11." "It's so strange, seeing all the names on Slack that aren't lighting up any more," Eric sighed. "At some point, the death toll crossed from a number I can understand to a number I can't." "Kill one person and it's murder; kill a hundred thousand and it's a statistic. Good ol' Stalin," Lily joked, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Don't try and think about it, dear. You're only going to get angry or depressed again, and we're having a nice lunch here, with everyone getting a chance to see one another. I mean, I love Niko to death, but if Andy shows up with his entire tribe, it takes over the whole room. How many are there now, fifty?" Ash giggled, rolling her eyes. "It really isn't tha' bad, Lily. How many're over there?" "Seven, including Lily," Eric said. "I refuse to let them send any more," Lily growled. "Each of the girls gets one day a week to spend with him, and he gets Sundays off." "Then when do ya get time with him?" "Any time I fucking want to," Lily laughed, waggling her beer in Eric's direction. "We're trying to have a kid now, and I'm refusing to let any of those other bitches get a go at getting knocked up until I'm well and truly swollen. Once I'm half way through my second trimester, then I'll let'em get off their birth control, and not a minute fucking sooner." "Still got Eric under your thumb, huh, Lil?" Andy teased. "Thumb, palm, e

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne is stunned to learn of Louisa Musgrove's sudden engagement to Captain Benwick. The pairing seems unlikely—Louisa being lively and high-spirited, Benwick reserved and mournful—but Anne quickly attributes their attachment to circumstance: close proximity and shared vulnerability. Reflecting on it, Anne concludes their union makes sense and could bring mutual happiness. Anne also feels an unspoken joy at the idea that Captain Wentworth is now free—though she barely dares to examine those feelings. Meanwhile, Sir Walter and Elizabeth are indifferent to the news, concerned only with social status, and reluctant to associate with the Crofts. Anne, in contrast, finds quiet joy in observing Admiral and Mrs. Croft's warm, equal companionship. A chance meeting with the Admiral in a print shop reveals his usual charm and humor, further endearing him to Anne. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, starting at chapter 17, Anne visits her old school friend, Mrs. Smith, who now lives in modest circumstances due to her husband's debts and death. Despite her hardships, Mrs. Smith is cheerful and spirited. Anne values their renewed friendship, though her family looks down on the connection. The chapter highlights Anne's increasing clarity: while Mr. Elliot offers social security and admiration, it is not the kind of love she desires. Her renewed bond with Mrs. Smith also underscores her loyalty and sensitivity to genuine character over status. We will pick up mid-conversation between Lady Russell and Anne. Lady Russell is trying to persuade Anne to consider marrying Mr. Elliot. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

An Englishwoman, an Irishwoman, a Greek and an Australian walk into a DJ booth... No, it's not the start of a joke, it's the latest episode of the Scummy Mummies Podcast! Our guests are the hilarious comedians Riona O'Connor and Olga Thompson. Due to an administrative error, we find ourselves crammed into an unpleasantly warm enclosed space. We get up close and personal about pretty much everything - body confidence, the menopause, Jedward, friendship, school WhatsApp groups, ageing, the Crowded House origins story, raising teens, mental breakdown, and what to do if your tortoise has a prolapsed anus. Plus we play a revealing round of I Have Never: Menopausal Old Slags' Edition.For more brilliant stuff from these legends, plus details of their upcoming tour dates, follow @rionaoconnor_ and @big_fat_greekmother. And check out Olga's fantastic book about growing up in a Greek hair salon, Split Ends. WE ARE BACK ON THE ROAD! Our new show Hot Mess is coming to theatres all over the country in 2025 and beyond. Many shows are SOLD OUT already so get your tickets NOW for Wellingborough, Maidstone, Dorchester, Brighton, Henley-on-Thames, Nottingham, Taunton, Bristol, Poole, Buxton, and many more... Visit scummymummies.com for dates and tickets. *WE HAVE A SHOP!* Visit scummymummiesshop.com for our ace t-shirts, mugs, washbags, sweatshirts and beach towels. FREE UK DELIVERY! We're on X, Instagram, and Facebook @scummymummies. If you like the podcast, please rate, review and subscribe. Thank you for listening! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, concluding chapter 16, Mr. Elliot continues his frequent visits to Camden Place, charming Sir Walter and Elizabeth with his polished manners and apparent desire to reconnect with the family. Lady Russell, once indifferent to him, now views him as a highly suitable match for Anne. Anne, however, remains cautious. Though she acknowledges Mr. Elliot's attentiveness and refinement, she is not fully at ease with his motives. His flattery feels calculated, and she senses a lack of emotional sincerity. She compares his composed charm with the deeper, more genuine feeling she once shared with Captain Wentworth. As Mr. Elliot's admiration grows more obvious, Anne is left feeling both flattered and wary of his true intentions. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Ahead of the Investec South African Women's Open, Annabell Fuller sits down with us this week to talk about life on Tour.The Englishwoman talks about her love of CrossFit plus competing at Hyrox with Pauline Roussin-Bouchard. We also hear about her fitness routine while away as well as how she's settled into her second year on Tour and her supportive family. Fuller also reminisces about playing Augusta National and the 2019 PING Junior Solheim Cup before talking us through her goals for the year. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Fresh off winning the opening event of the 2025 season Cara Gainer joins us this week to talk all about her triumph in Morocco.The Englishwoman discusses playoff nerves and what it means to finally lift silverware after several near misses. There's then plenty of tennis chat as Cara explains her unique journey into professional golf.As the Lalla Meryem Cup winner prepares for a month in Australia, Gainer then tells us about her wedding plans for December and which guilty pleasure she will be watching on route to Oz... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. We will pick up at the tail end of chapter 14, where we ended last, and where Anne and Lady Russell visit the Musgroves for Christmas. The two have very different opinions on the gathering. Anne finds the chaotic but cozy antics of many young children pleasant and soothing. Lady Russell, on the other hand, finds it overly loud and agitating. Here, we are watching Anne's inner growth, her evolving relationships, and her growing clarity about her feelings and the people around her. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. We will pick up early in Chapter 13, where we left off in the last episode. This chapter is also the start of the second volume, or half, of “Persuasion”. Anne Elliot is reunited with Lady Russell, her confidante and mentor. Lady Russell remains keenly interested in Anne's prospects and happiness, though her advice in the past led to Anne breaking off her engagement with Captain Wentworth. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife.  In the last episode, the off-season tourists to the beach town of Lyme are surprised to learn that the mysterious gentleman they passed by was not only a cousin to Anne and Mary Elliot, but was the heir to their family fortune. Later, a tragic accident occurs suddenly after Louisa playfully falls from a ledge, expecting to be caught by Captain Wentworth. The situation is sudden and terrible, and each individual in the group shows their ability (or inability) to handle the emergency with grace. Anne's steadiness and calm particularly shines. Louisa is alive but unresponsive, and it is decided that she will stay at the Harville's, in their care, while she recovers. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

 A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit's favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb. Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving"Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter," Miss Americana said. "She's flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I'll help her write there's no way she can fail."Professor Whirter shook his head. "Miss Americana!" he gasped. "The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!"The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A's on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana's sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor's newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana's expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. "Professor," she growled, "my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade's money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?"The Professor's blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. "Alright, alright," he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine."Ready?" Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum."Ready!" Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it."Perfect," she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket."Told you I heard a noise," the tall Pilgrim said to the short one."Heaven defend us!" the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them."Hello," Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. "Stay back, witch!" he said.His companion seemed less sure. "Are you sure she's a witch?" he asked."She's a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?" the short one asked."Hmm," the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. "Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,"He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. "Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!" he said. "No speaking hexes, either!"Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims' long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. "You boys are making a big mistake," she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. "Fortunately I can correct it,"But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker."Miss Americana!" Professor Whirter's voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. "You cannot harm anyone in this period!" he said. "Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!""Oh," Miss Americana gulped. "Right,"She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less."On second thought," she said, "I surrender."She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana's hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain."There," he said, backing up. "The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.""If you say so," Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim's head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. "Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out."Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. "Let's take her to the Elders," he said. "Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her."Miss Americana rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, you oafs!" she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day's large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. 'Who would wear a bikini during this time period?' she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea."We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest," the tall pilgrim said."We think she's a witch," the short one said. "Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?"Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly."I am not a witch!" she boldly declared. "I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan's palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!"'That ought to fool these simpletons,' she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony's current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her."Hmm," Captain Standish said. "If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so," he said."Prove it? And how should I do that?" Miss Americana asked, indignantly."If you were a harem girl," Captain Standish said, "then you know how to dance like one. So, show us." He turned his head to the man next to him. "Do you permit this Reverend?" he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana's flesh. But then he nodded. "If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it," he said.Americana gasped. "H-how can you ask me that?" she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. "The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission," he told her. "So if your story is true then prove it." He nodded up to the large table. "You can do it on there, if you would be so kind."Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily."Very well," she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. "But I cannot dance in these!" she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana's manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. "Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!" she said.And with that, she began to dance."H-holy shit," one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe."That's blasphemy," a second beside him murmured. "Also, god fucking damn," he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl."Verily, my friends," he said, "I was so distracted by the witch's performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize' stuff into the fire and, look what happened!"His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster's ear."Did the Lord really condone this, William?" he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. "After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale," he said. "Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up." Taking some of Captain Standish's popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder."Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!" he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. "The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!"At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana's wiggling and grinding bubble-ass."What?!" Governor Bradford gasped. "But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we'll starve! Why have they turned back?!"The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana."When the Sachem's party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one," he said. "The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,"At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock."My ass is not fat!" she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. "Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn't lead to fat!" she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. "What's a stair-masterer?" he asked. "Some sort of Turkish siege engine?"Myles shrugged, puzzled."Never mind that!" Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community's attention off Miss Americana. "This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!""Hmm," said Captain Standish. "What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.""But the whole point is we have no food!" Reverend Brewster pointed out. "What sort of peace offering could we give?""We could give them our guns, or the cannon," Governor Bradford said."And surrender our only military leverage?" Captain Standish scoffed. "I would sooner dump them in the sea!""The Indians are yet heathens," Reverend Brewster pointed out. "They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering' might they be interested in?"For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped."No," she whispered. "No, no, No!" Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. "How, how can you even consider that?!" she hissed. "Aren't you Puritans?! A Godly people?!"Reverend Brewster shook his head."We are," he affirmed. "But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!"Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana's body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them."I know well the meaning of the scarlet A's," Reverend Brewster said. "The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?"Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones upon her gloves, and finally remembered her Hawthorne.'Great Justice! Why didn't I pay more attention in high school lit class?' she thought, marking the first time in all of recorded history that this has occurred.But then she looked back up, and saw that all the Pilgrims were nodding in agreement with their spiritual leader. She swallowed.Suddenly, a sound came over her microphone. "You made the choice to go back into the past," Professor Whirter chided her. He could not quite keep the relish out of his voice, to see the arrogant heroine hoisted upon her own scantily-clad petard. "It is your duty now to make sure history goes forward, no matter what that takes!" He cut the feed again.Americana gasped. But then, squirming before the staring Pilgrims, she bowed her head and then slowly nodded."Very well," she said. "If it is what must happen, then so be it."At this, one of the few surviving female Pilgrims could remain properly silent no longer."Hey!" she snapped, from where she stood in the door of her roughly-built house, an apron over her simple dress and her hands soiled with flour from her long labors to prepare the day's feast. "You might fool them," she said, nodding at the men, "but you can't fool me. Given how you just danced in front of my husband, and that after all this time you still wear that harem attire with relish, don't pretend you don't want every cock you can take you thrice-damned Jezebel!"At this, Miss Americana gasped in shock. But she did not get a chance to respond, for around her the men had already launched into preparing their response, it had to be sent swiftly, before the Native column could get too far. With haste, a runner was sent, vanishing into the woods.In due time, a large party of Native Americans emerged from the forest and began to approach. In the meantime, Miss Americana had gotten down off the table, and now stood under guard nearby, beside and in front of the table of the elders. Miss Americana gulped in trepidation when she saw their numbers, there may have been forty or so adult male Pilgrims left, but there were more than twice that number of Indians approaching, all of them men.At the head of the column, there came a grand and muscular figure with burnished bronze skin, a large head-dress on his head. This, she knew from history and from the whispered comments of the Pilgrim elders just beside her, was Massasoit, the Great Sachem of the Wampanoag people. It was only the treaty he had signed with the now-late Governor Carver, and its attendant protection from raiding and repeated deliveries of food, that had enabled the meager settlement around her to survive at all. At his side walked another Native man in a mixture of native and Pilgrim garb, from more comments among the elders Americana discerned that this was Tisquantum, better known to most white schoolchildren as 'Squanto', the Pilgrims' tutor and interpreter. Although he normally lived amongst the Pilgrims, he had gone off to help escort Massasoit in for this very important meeting.They were also, she could not help but notice, much more buff and handsome than she expected. As she gazed upon them, a strange tingle ran up and down between her legs, accompanied by a sudden and mysterious abundance of fluids.Behind Massasoit came a column of nearly a hundred Wampanoag warriors; a few came armed, but most were instead carrying great baskets filled with food. Turkeys; fish; pumpkins; maize; squash and cranberries, all in enormous quantity. Five recently felled deer were also carried, each on the shoulders to two strapping Wampanoag hunters. The Pilgrims' own supplies were very meager, more so than they would even admit to in the historical record, and Miss Americana realized that without the Indians' food the First Thanksgiving Feast would instead be replaced by a Great Starvation, and the probable extinction of the Plymouth colony.However, although they had come back, the Native American party remained suspicious. The majority of the column stopped just short of the entrance to the colony, and only Massasoit, Squanto, and a small honor guard of strapping warriors came forward to meet the Elders at their table."Greetings, Squanto," Governor Bradford said, standing. "And holy Greetings to the great king Massasoit, may the blessings of our God be upon him.""Greetings, Governor," Squanto replied. He bowed slightly, and gestured to his muscular boss beside him. "But the Great Sachem's mind is not rested. This one," he said, nodding towards Miss Americana, "and her, impressive, proportions, caused him some distress, that perhaps he had been lied to. I understand this is not the case?"Behind him, one by one, each of the native warriors was leaning out and gaping at Miss Americana in awe. In all their days and travels, they had never seen breasts nearly as enormous as hers, nor a figure quite so bountifully and visibly fertile."Please express our deep apologies for the misunderstanding to the Sachem," Governor Bradford replied. "This woman," he said, gesturing toward where Miss Americana stood chained, "is not a member of our community. We desired to give him a gift worthy of his own generosity, but as you know we have no food to spare. So we," He glanced at the two Pilgrims who had captured Americana, and still held her leash. "Obtained her," he decided to say at last, "so that we could have an appropriate present to reward him for his magnanimity."Squanto turned to Massasoit, and they shared a brief conversation in the Wampanoag tongue, which Americana could not understand, and, she gathered from their nervous squirming, the Pilgrims mostly could not either. Then Squanto turned back to them."I see," he said. He eyed Miss Americana up and down. "The Great Sachem wants to know, exactly what is the nature of this, gift?"Sitting near and behind her, Reverend Brewster looked up at Miss Americana's staggering curves."You reply to that one, Scarlet-Lettered One," he told her. "From what we have seen of your instincts with that body, you should not need words to do so,"Miss Americana blushed deeply. Then, she nodded. Before Massasoit, Squanto, the Elders, the Wampanoag warriors, and the entire Pilgrim community, she walked over to stand before the end of the Pilgrims' great main table. This faced back, directly towards where Massasoit stood, some few meters behind her. Reaching up, blush deepening on her cheeks, she put her hand between her breasts, and with a flick undid her golden star-shaped bra catch. Her huge bra, nevertheless under vast strain to contain her super-human rack, exploded apart, allowing her gigantic breasts to spill forth to jostle and sway before everyone."God, damn!" she heard Myles Standish say. Reverend Brewster, sitting right beside him, was himself too occupied by the dropping of his own jaw to call him on his blasphemy. Even the Pilgrim women appeared breathless at the sight of Americana's giant udders. A great hew and shout rose among the Wampanoag column, pointing and gaping in disbelief. Even Massasoit himself, who to this point had stood tall and still like a bronzed god among lesser men, seemed to be affected. Though he said nothing, as Miss Americana's huge breasts shook before him his eyebrows went up, and Miss Americana herself swallowed, as she noticed what seemed to be the stirrings of something disturbingly large in the front of his deerskin trousers.But she could not stop. Shrugging out of her bra, she turned and laid it on the table before her. Then, reaching back, she slipped her gloved hands into the hips of her panties. She squirmed for a few seconds, as she felt the eyes of every single member of both nations staring at her squirming ass. Then slowly, bending low, she guided her panties up and over her ass, and down her thighs. She slipped one boot out of them, then the other, and left them in a tiny colorful heap between her feet.Then, her lips trembling and her cheeks bright pink under her mask, Miss Americana made the one signal a woman could make that, regardless of language and culture, no man could mis-understand. Bending over, she put both hands on the table. Her voluptuous ass lifted up high and wiggling behind her, she slowly slid her boots wider and wider apart, until her long and mighty legs were spread at a nearly forty-five degree angle to either side. Then lifting her head, she looked back over her shoulder, her blue eyes blinking moistly. Her dripping cunt was pointed straight back at Massasoit, gaping slightly to show her tender inner lips between the thicker outer ones, in clear and open invitation.Despite the clarity of Americana's signal, Massasoit still turned and, eyes never leaving the glistening cunt being offered to him, had a brief conversation with Squanto."The Great Sachem wishes to know," Squanto said, afterwards, "whether this gift is for him alone, or for his people as well."The Pilgrim Elders looked at each other.Reverend Brewster shrugged. "As I said," he stated, "at a certain point one must ask, does God care about a few more?"Governor Bradford nodded. "Anyone and everyone can partake of our gift," he said, "as the Chief wishes.""Oh, Great Justice!" Miss Americana whimpered, her eyes blinking in horror. But, knowing she had no choice if she was not to change history, although they trembled, her mighty thighs remained spread wide, and her hands, though they shivered, remained planted flat to the table.Squanto and Massasoit shared another brief conversation. It concluded with what appeared to be a magnanimous gesture by Massasoit, towards Americana's waiting and naked cunt. Squanto nodded, and then stepped forward."The Great Sachem accepts your generous gift," he said. Reaching up, he began to take off his shirt. "As he knows your laws would not permit you to do so yourselves, he wishes that I test her first, to make sure she is worthy of him. He will have her after me, and then the rest of the tribe."Miss Americana let out a tiny whimper of disbelief, as she heard this. But, strangely, the news seemed to have another effect on her cunt, where, between her muscular thighs, her naked slit suddenly seemed to drip with even more gooey juices than before.Unable to watch her fate coming, Americana turned her head away and instead looked down the table. This did little to lessen her humiliation, however, as she now just got to watch the entire Pilgrim community staring up at her, as she stood ready to secure their futures with the much-questioned purity of her gaping cunt.Standing behind her, Squanto took off his pants. This caused an immediate stir among the Pilgrim women."By the Lord," the woman who had called out Miss Americana said, her eyes going hypocritically wide.Another shook her head slowly. "I, I had, suspected," she said. "But I did not realize the true extent of the native's, gifts."Fortunately for the Pilgrim women, their men were too busy staring at the naked Queen of Justice to see where their wives' attention was directed. Meanwhile Miss Americana, her face down and looking at the table, was the only one who could not see what was coming up behind her. So she didn't have any clue what she was in for, until Squanto's dark hands appeared upon her pale curvy hips, and he swung himself up into position."Oh!" Miss Americana gasped, her blue eyes spreading wide, as she realized that, with both of his hands accounted for on her flesh, what she was feeling nuzzling up against her drooling cunt could not be a fist or arm, as she in the initial moment of contact suspected. She gasped deeply, her eyes spreading even wider, as his tip started to part her. She shook her head."Oh, oh my God," she said, as her cunt lips spread wider and wider around the incoming bronze cock-head, until they quivered to either side of the crest of his uncircumcised cock. "I, I didn't know," she whimpered, "that, that Squanto was so hung!" Her voice rose up to a squeal, as he thrust deep inside her."Is," the native interpreter calmly corrected the English-woman on her grammar. Then, taking a tight grip on her hips, he began to slam his massive cock vigorously back and forth inside her drooling slit.Miss Americana shook and squealed, as he nailed her. All around her, the Pilgrim men and women stared in awe. But Americana was not the only one to be affected by the experience for long."Oh, yes!" Squanto announced. Sliding his eager dark hands around from her hips he cupped her enormous breasts from below, and squeezed them, as he continued to nail her gaping cunt with bountiful vigor and abandon. "This, strange woman, is indeed, worthy of the Sachem!" he said. He rolled his head and gasped in awe. "My goodness! She is so tight!" he marveled, squeezing her enormous hooters and stroking their erect tips with his fingers. "And yet, there is an ocean inside her hips!""Very good!" Massasoit announced, revealing that, though he naturally depended on his interpreter for complex and important negotiations, he had had the foresight to learn some rudimentary English himself. He removed his pants and then his loincloth, which caused another stir among the Pilgrim women, as it was revealed that Squanto was not a unique outlier among his people.To be continued in part 2, By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, the off-season tourists to the beach town of Lyme become acquainted with Captain Wentworth's friends, Captain and Mrs. Harville along with Captain Benwick. At a dinner party, Anne spends the evening chatting about poetry and literature with the melancholic Captain Benwick. The next day, a gentleman stranger seems captivated with Anne's fine looks, which seemed to have regained their earlier charms amidst the fresh air and change of scene. In the last chapter, and in the coming episode, there is mention of the “cobb” that tourists visit in Lyme. The cobb is a real-life harbor wall originally constructed in ancient times to act as a breakwater to protect the ships and the town. To this day, no one knows for sure when it was originally constructed, or why it is called the Cobb. We will pick up within chapter twelve. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit meetthemess.substack.comMove over, Meet the Press—it's time to MEET THE MESS!This week on the podcast, Jen and Karyn discuss how the billionaire owners of the LA Times and The Washington Post stopped their papers from endorsing a presidential candidate. And, the Menendez brothers could get another day in court — is a resentencing on the horizon?Also, Karyn does a terrible job explaining a new drinking game, but it leads to a good discussion about how today's college students rarely drink beer (and a later discussion about their favorite beers)! And, don't miss the hilarious story of the time Jen chased down a shoplifter at the mall!Plus, do you love to travel and work remotely? Becoming a digital nomad might be easier than you think! On the style front, learn about fall's hottest look (which Jen pulls off effortlessly) and the perfume note everyone's craving. Finally, will the Los Angeles Dodgers win the World Series? Karyn dishes about her favorite player with the sweetest smile — Shohei Ohtani!On Meet the Mess, bestselling authors Jen Lancaster & Karyn Bosnak dive into the messiest news stories and hottest topics of the week to give a fresh and entertaining take on current events and life in general. An extended video version with the “Hot Mess of the Week” is available to paid Substack subscribers. Visit meetthemess.substack.com for more.Meet the Merch:• https://www.etsy.com/shop/MeetTheMessConnect with us on Instagram:• https://www.instagram.com/meetthemesspod• https://www.instagram.com/jennsylvania• https://www.instagram.com/karynbosnakConnect with us on TikTok:• https://www.tiktok.com/@meetthemess• https://www.tiktok.com/@karynbosnak

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne finally extricates herself from the long, awkward walk through the countryside by hitching a ride with Captain Wentworth's parents, who happen to pass by in their carriage. Anne starts to look forward to meeting back up with Lady Russell after her two month stay with her sister, and moving on with her life. We will pick up our story where the group of young people went to visit the scenic town of Lyme on a lark, where Captain Wentworth has old friends. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife.  In the last episode, we find Anne obliged to go on what should be a very awkward walk through the countryside with her sister Mary, their cousins Henrietta and Louisa, her brother-in-law Charles, and Captain Wentworth. We observe the degree to which Captain Wentworth prizes conviction and loyalty in a woman in reaction to how Anne had allowed herself to be persuaded against him eight years earlier. Their long walk seems random but when they reach the grounds of the cousin's relation's The Hayter's home, Henrietta and Charles go in to visit while the rest of the party stay out in the woods to enjoy the fresh air. Anne rests quietly while the others go walking around. She accidentally ends up privy to a conversation between Louisa and Captain Wentworth where Louisa gives the captain an example of her sister being indecisive towards her old lover Charles Hayter, and the captain uses this as an example of what he most abhors. We will pick up in this private conversation.  — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit’s favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb.Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving“Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter,” Miss Americana said. “She’s flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I’ll help her write there’s no way she can fail.”Professor Whirter shook his head. “Miss Americana!” he gasped. “The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!”The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A’s on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana’s sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor’s newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana’s expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. “Professor,” she growled, “my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade’s money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?”The Professor’s blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. “Alright, alright,” he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine.“Ready?” Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum.“Ready!” Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it.“Perfect,” she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket.“Told you I heard a noise,” the tall Pilgrim said to the short one.“Heaven defend us!” the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them.“Hello,” Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. “Stay back, witch!” he said.His companion seemed less sure. “Are you sure she’s a witch?” he asked.“She’s a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?” the short one asked.“Hmm,” the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. “Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,”He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. “Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!” he said. “No speaking hexes, either!”Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims’ long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. “You boys are making a big mistake,” she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. “Fortunately I can correct it,”But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker.“Miss Americana!” Professor Whirter’s voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. “You cannot harm anyone in this period!” he said. “Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!”“Oh,” Miss Americana gulped. “Right,”She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less.“On second thought,” she said, “I surrender.”She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana’s hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain.“There,” he said, backing up. “The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.”“If you say so,” Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim’s head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. “Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out.”Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. “Let’s take her to the Elders,” he said. “Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her.”Miss Americana rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said, you oafs!” she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day’s large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. ‘Who would wear a bikini during this time period?’ she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea.“We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest,” the tall pilgrim said.“We think she’s a witch,” the short one said. “Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?”Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly.“I am not a witch!” she boldly declared. “I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan’s palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!”'That ought to fool these simpletons,’ she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony’s current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her.“Hmm,” Captain Standish said. “If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so,” he said.“Prove it? And how should I do that?” Miss Americana asked, indignantly.“If you were a harem girl,” Captain Standish said, “then you know how to dance like one. So, show us.” He turned his head to the man next to him. “Do you permit this Reverend?” he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana’s flesh. But then he nodded. “If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it,” he said.Americana gasped. “H-how can you ask me that?” she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. “The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission,” he told her. “So if your story is true then prove it.” He nodded up to the large table. “You can do it on there, if you would be so kind.”Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily.“Very well,” she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. “But I cannot dance in these!” she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana’s manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. “Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!” she said.And with that, she began to dance.“H-holy shit,” one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe.“That’s blasphemy,” a second beside him murmured. “Also, god fucking damn,” he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl.“Verily, my friends,” he said, “I was so distracted by the witch’s performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize’ stuff into the fire and, look what happened!”His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster’s ear.“Did the Lord really condone this, William?” he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. “After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale,” he said. “Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up.” Taking some of Captain Standish’s popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder.“Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!” he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. “The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!”At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana’s wiggling and grinding bubble-ass.“What?!” Governor Bradford gasped. “But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we’ll starve! Why have they turned back?!”The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana.“When the Sachem’s party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one,” he said. “The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,”At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock.“My ass is not fat!” she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. “Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn’t lead to fat!” she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. “What’s a stair-masterer?” he asked. “Some sort of Turkish siege engine?”Myles shrugged, puzzled.“Never mind that!” Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community’s attention off Miss Americana. “This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!”“Hmm,” said Captain Standish. “What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.”“But the whole point is we have no food!” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “What sort of peace offering could we give?”“We could give them our guns, or the cannon,” Governor Bradford said.“And surrender our only military leverage?” Captain Standish scoffed. “I would sooner dump them in the sea!”“The Indians are yet heathens,” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering’ might they be interested in?”For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped.“No,” she whispered. “No, no, No!” Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. “How, how can you even consider that?!” she hissed. “Aren’t you Puritans?! A Godly people?!”Reverend Brewster shook his head.“We are,” he affirmed. “But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!”Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana’s body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them.“I know well the meaning of the scarlet A’s,” Reverend Brewster said. “The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?”Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit’s favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb.Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving“Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter,” Miss Americana said. “She’s flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I’ll help her write there’s no way she can fail.”Professor Whirter shook his head. “Miss Americana!” he gasped. “The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!”The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A’s on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana’s sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor’s newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana’s expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. “Professor,” she growled, “my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade’s money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?”The Professor’s blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. “Alright, alright,” he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine.“Ready?” Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum.“Ready!” Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it.“Perfect,” she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket.“Told you I heard a noise,” the tall Pilgrim said to the short one.“Heaven defend us!” the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them.“Hello,” Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. “Stay back, witch!” he said.His companion seemed less sure. “Are you sure she’s a witch?” he asked.“She’s a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?” the short one asked.“Hmm,” the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. “Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,”He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. “Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!” he said. “No speaking hexes, either!”Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims’ long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. “You boys are making a big mistake,” she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. “Fortunately I can correct it,”But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker.“Miss Americana!” Professor Whirter’s voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. “You cannot harm anyone in this period!” he said. “Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!”“Oh,” Miss Americana gulped. “Right,”She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less.“On second thought,” she said, “I surrender.”She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana’s hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain.“There,” he said, backing up. “The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.”“If you say so,” Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim’s head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. “Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out.”Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. “Let’s take her to the Elders,” he said. “Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her.”Miss Americana rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said, you oafs!” she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day’s large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. ‘Who would wear a bikini during this time period?’ she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea.“We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest,” the tall pilgrim said.“We think she’s a witch,” the short one said. “Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?”Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly.“I am not a witch!” she boldly declared. “I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan’s palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!”'That ought to fool these simpletons,’ she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony’s current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her.“Hmm,” Captain Standish said. “If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so,” he said.“Prove it? And how should I do that?” Miss Americana asked, indignantly.“If you were a harem girl,” Captain Standish said, “then you know how to dance like one. So, show us.” He turned his head to the man next to him. “Do you permit this Reverend?” he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana’s flesh. But then he nodded. “If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it,” he said.Americana gasped. “H-how can you ask me that?” she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. “The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission,” he told her. “So if your story is true then prove it.” He nodded up to the large table. “You can do it on there, if you would be so kind.”Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily.“Very well,” she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. “But I cannot dance in these!” she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana’s manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. “Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!” she said.And with that, she began to dance.“H-holy shit,” one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe.“That’s blasphemy,” a second beside him murmured. “Also, god fucking damn,” he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl.“Verily, my friends,” he said, “I was so distracted by the witch’s performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize’ stuff into the fire and, look what happened!”His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster’s ear.“Did the Lord really condone this, William?” he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. “After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale,” he said. “Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up.” Taking some of Captain Standish’s popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder.“Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!” he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. “The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!”At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana’s wiggling and grinding bubble-ass.“What?!” Governor Bradford gasped. “But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we’ll starve! Why have they turned back?!”The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana.“When the Sachem’s party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one,” he said. “The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,”At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock.“My ass is not fat!” she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. “Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn’t lead to fat!” she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. “What’s a stair-masterer?” he asked. “Some sort of Turkish siege engine?”Myles shrugged, puzzled.“Never mind that!” Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community’s attention off Miss Americana. “This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!”“Hmm,” said Captain Standish. “What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.”“But the whole point is we have no food!” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “What sort of peace offering could we give?”“We could give them our guns, or the cannon,” Governor Bradford said.“And surrender our only military leverage?” Captain Standish scoffed. “I would sooner dump them in the sea!”“The Indians are yet heathens,” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering’ might they be interested in?”For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped.“No,” she whispered. “No, no, No!” Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. “How, how can you even consider that?!” she hissed. “Aren’t you Puritans?! A Godly people?!”Reverend Brewster shook his head.“We are,” he affirmed. “But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!”Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana’s body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them.“I know well the meaning of the scarlet A’s,” Reverend Brewster said. “The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?”Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones

Tonight, for Snoozecast's 900th episode, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, we learn just how much of an eligible and desirable bachelor Captain Wentworth has become. The world of women has opened to him, even as the number of suitors seems to have dwindled for Anne with time. Meanwhile, a cousin and Henrietta's suitor named Charles Hayter is dismayed to find upon returning from a trip that his sweetheart's affections appear to have shifted towards Captain Wentworth. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne hears from her sister Mary that Captain Wentworth remarked that he felt Anne was so changed he would not have recognized her. This deeply mortifies Anne, though she admits it to be true. Captain Wentworth, still bitter over their past, shows no desire to renew their acquaintance despite frequent social interactions. His focus is now on finding a suitable marriage, excluding Anne from his considerations, though he still has some lingering unresolved feelings. We pick up in the middle of a conversation between Captain Wentworth, his sister and her husband, Mrs. and Admiral Croft and the Musgrove family regarding the Captain's naval experiences. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lucy Letbe appeared to be a normal young lady who took her job as a nurse very seriously. Unfortunately, babies seemed to be dying at an alarming rate whenever Letbe was working. Is she a monster, or was an innocent Englishwoman convicted of murder? Matt Ralston and William Noguera | creating Death Row Diaries | Patreon

Join us as Ben, Dessy, Tiago, and Rose continue on their journey to play every Ace Attorney game! It's time to embark on a new journey... to Meiji era Japan, and perhaps even London?! Yes, today we're meeting Ryunosuke Naruhodo, his best friend Kazuma Asogi, Susato Mikotoba, and several other wonderful new characters! However, not everything is pleasant, as Ryunosuke is accused of murder, and this Englishwoman is really quite racist. We talk about how we feel about the new setting, some of the development and setup behind the game, sparkling water, theoretically ringing up Capcom on the phone, and also the music! The music!! Follow us online: @aceattorneypod / aceattorney / aceattorney.bsky / updatedautopsy.report Watch Ben, Dessy, & Iro's Let's Plays of the series on YouTube here! Want a shirt? Check out our store here! Ben: @yotsuben / yotsuben / yotsuben.bsky Dessy: @yesthisisdes / dessy / dessy.bsky Rose: @tromarts / rosenonsense / rosenonsense.bsky Tiago: @tiagosdutra / gameboy / linktr.ee

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne Elliott is distressed by the frequent mention of Captain Wentworth, whom she realizes is the same man she once knew years ago. She steels herself for his arrival in the area, aware that she must learn to cope with his presence. The Musgroves, grateful for the care Captain Wentworth showed to their deceased son, are eager to meet him. Anne faces an emotional trial when Captain Wentworth arrives and quickly earns the admiration of the Musgrove family. However, Anne narrowly avoids meeting him due to a child's accident, which consumes her attention. Despite the child's recovery, Anne remains tense about seeing Wentworth. The Musgroves' praise of him deepens her turmoil, as she navigates her complex feelings and memories. When Anne finally sees Captain Wentworth briefly, she struggles with the realization that their long separation has not lessened her emotional response to him, despite her attempts at rationalizing the passage of time and the changes it brings. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

After a sensational win at the Ladies Italian Open Amy Taylor stops by this week to reflect on her career-changing maiden victory.The 23-year-old discusses what clicked in Lazio before looking ahead to the rest of the season. There's then a lot of Taylor Swift chat as the Englishwoman gets set to see her namesake in London this weekend ahead of the VP Bank Swiss Ladies Open.Taylor also chats Tour mates, the LET Access Series, and teaming with Ryder Cup star Ludvig Aberg at Texas Tech University. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Anne Elliot visits Uppercross and is struck by the stark contrast between the concerns of the Musgroves and those of her family at Kellynch Hall. Despite the short distance between the two places, the conversations and interests at Uppercross revolve around local and everyday matters like hunting, household management, and social gatherings, rather than the weighty and publicized affairs of Kellynch. Anne learns a humbling lesson about her own insignificance outside her familiar circle and resolves to integrate herself into Uppercross life, finding solace in the genuine sympathy of her friend Lady Russell. Anne's stay at Uppercross proves manageable, as she gets along with her sister Mary, enjoys the company of her nephews, and recognizes Charles Musgrove's amiable nature, despite his lack of intellectual zeal. She often acts as a mediator between her sister and the Musgroves, trying to balance their complaints and grievances. Anne's spirits are lifted by the change of scenery and subjects, and the visit of the Crofts, the new tenants of Kellynch Hall, stirs her emotions as they mention Captain Wentworth, a significant figure from her past. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Admiral and Mrs. Croft visit Kellynch to the great satisfaction of all parties. The deal of the renting of Kellynch Hall is settled. Mary complains that she is feeling unwell and Anne must stay with her instead of heading straight to Bath with Sir Walter and Elizabeth. Anne is pleased with the opportunity to be useful and not go to Bath so soon. Lady Russell and Anne share concern that Mrs. Clay plans to travel to Bath with Sir Walter and Elizabeth. She warns Elizabeth of the danger that their father may fall for the young woman, but Elizabeth rejects the notion as ridiculous and offensive. When Anne visits Mary, she finds her in a sour mood as is usual. Anne patiently perseveres in cheering up her sister, and the two take a walk to visit the Musgroves. We will pick up at the beginning of chapter 6. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Sir Walter Elliot considers a Navy tenant for Kellynch Hall, dismissing the idea due to his disdain for the Navy's influence on social status and appearance. However, flattery sways him. Mr. Shepherd, his advisor, proposes Admiral Croft, emphasizing his respectability and lack of children. Despite initial reservations, Sir Walter agrees due to the Admiral's suitable social standing. Meanwhile, Anne Elliot's unresolved feelings for Captain Wentworth resurface. Seven years ago, Anne's engagement to Captain Wentworth was thwarted by familial pressure and societal expectations, particularly from Lady Russell. Heartbroken but obedient, Anne acquiesced, sacrificing her own happiness for perceived social propriety. We will pick up towards the end of chapter 4. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. In the last episode, Mr. Shepard and Lady Russell draw up a plan for Sir Elliot to get out of debt. They decide that he must "retrench" by seriously cutting back on his expenditures, which the gentleman refuses to do. They then suggest that Sir Elliot move out of his home in order to rent it out. The plan is agreed to by Sir Elliot, with his stipulations that it not seem like he is renting it for cost-savings but rather as a favor to the renter. It is further agreed to that during this time they will stay in the city of Bath, which has a lower cost of living and where their more limited budget will go farther. We will start back in with an abbreviated opening to chapter 3, where Sir Elliot is discussing the matter further with the group. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This week we go rogue and focus on an evil WOMAN. Namely, Unity Mitford, the aristocratic Englishwoman who loved Nazis so much that she moved to Munich and became best buddies with Adolf Hitler. And it all ended happily. Enjoy! Brought to you By: The Sonar Network https://thesonarnetwork.com/

Mark Zuckerberg's Meta just announced its first-ever dividend, which is something that rapidly growing tech companies rarely do. Dividends have been shunned in favour of corporate buybacks for decades. Is this a sign of change in the relationship between shareholders and corporations? Today on the show, we discuss the return of the dividend. Also we short internet tests, and go long frazzled-Englishwoman aesthetic.For a free 30-day trial to the Unhedged newsletter go to: https://www.ft.com/unhedgedofferFollow Ethan Wu (@ethanywu) and Katie Martin (@katie_martin_fx) on X. You can email Ethan at ethan.wu@ft.com.Read a transcript of this episode on FT.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, we shall read the next part to “Persuasion”, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves in order to lower their expenses and reduce their debt, by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. The novel was well-received at it's debut, but its greater fame came decades later, and continues to this day. In the first episode, we read chapter 1, in which we meet Sir Walter Elliot, a 54-year-old man of distinct ancestry, and his three daughters. The father prides himself on his good looks and family lineage. His eldest daughter, who most resembles him in personality and looks, is named Elizabeth. At 29 she is unmarried but attractive. His youngest daughter, Mary, has married a respectable local man. And then there is the middle child- Anne. She is also unmarried like Elizabeth, but at 27 years old has grown less attractive with age. Sir Walter feels that Anne is inferior to her sisters and often overlooks her. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Explore the saga of the Raines family, a shockingly sinister tale about the elaborate deception that led to the downfall of their Pacific Northwest timber empire. The 1200-acre Raines Family Tree Farm was nestled just an hour west of bustling Portland. Ralph Raines and his son Ralph Jr. were the hardworking stewards of the land that was once home to over a million trees. The patriarch, Ralph Sr., a WWII pilot and Oregon State University graduate before his days as a timber tycoon, instilled the values of hard work and environmental sustainability in his son, Ralph Jr. In 2004, their tranquil lives take a dark turn after Ralph Jr. encounters a psychic, Rachel Lee, during a trip to Bend, Oregon. Rachel, with a knack for cons, would insidiously infiltrate the Raines family. As Ralph Sr. succumbs to ill-health, Rachel becomes his caregiver, gaining control of the estate's financial affairs.The scam intensifies as Rachel conspires with her daughter, Porsha Lee, who disguises herself as an Englishwoman named Mary Marks. From there several plot lines unfold, each wilder than the last: a sham wedding, fake pregnancies, and stolen identity. All of which would play a part in the devious financial schemes and deception, as the Lee family began siphoning millions from the Raines family estate.Discover how the Raines men were led astray by a clairvoyant con-artist as the Lees orchestrate the sale of the tree farm, pilfering the proceeds before going on to drain various accounts all while leaving an apparent trail of their financial abuse. Authorities, alerted by keen detectives, would finally expose the fraudulent scheme but only through court proceedings would the extent of the manipulation would be revealed.Despite the devastation, Ralph Jr. remains resilient, optimistic that the clear-cut land will one day flourish again. The Raines family legacy, once marred by deception, has now become a story of resilience and hope for the future, even amidst the most devastating of wreckages. Note: This podcast episode explores themes of fraud and manipulation as well as both financial and implied elder abuse. Listener discretion is advised.This week we shared the podcast Horror, Cats, and Witch Hats!Find us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Patreon, & more! If you have any true crime, paranormal, or witchy stories you'd like to share with us & possibly have them read (out loud) on an episode, email us at pnwhauntsandhomicides@gmail.com or use this link. There are so many ways that you can support the show: BuyMeACoffee, Apple Podcasts, or by leaving a rating & review on Apple Podcasts. Pastebin: for sources. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/show/pnw-haunts-homicides/support. This show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5955451/advertisementPastebin: for sources.

Tonight, to start off “Persuasion”, our latest addition to the Friday rotation of four ongoing stories, we shall read the opening to the book. Or rather, we shall “re-read” the opening, as we have once before read the opening to this novel, several years ago now. This was the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen, along with being considered her most mature and refined writing. “Persuasion” was published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliot, a twenty-seven year old Englishwoman, whose family moves to lower their expenses and reduce their debt by renting their home to an Admiral and his wife. The novel was well-received at it's debut, but its greater fame came decades later, and continues to this day — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices