Podcasts about foolishly

Show Notes Episode 492: You STILL Want A New Drug Part 2 of the Crack Epidemic This week Host Dave Bledsoe thought he was done drinking but discovered his credit card company had (Foolishly) upped his credit limit. (This will not end well for either of them) On the show this week we deliver part two of the crack epidemic talking about all the lies told by white people to scare themselves about black people doing crack.  Along the way we find out that Dave is a little snitch.  Then we dive right into a totally unnecessary lesson on the historical geography of Washington DC. (Flimsiest pretext yet for a tangent.) Then we learn how the President of the United States entrapped a high school student to sell him crack. (Every word of that is true and mostly accurate.) From there we discover how Ronald Reagan (HE'S BACK!) set the stage for the mass incarceration of two generations of Black Men. (We're sure it was an accident.) Finally, we explain the most heinous lie of the whole damn lot of them, about moms, babies and medicine. Our Sponsor this week is Creative Problem Solving, fixing it by making it worse.  We open the show with Poppy Bush sharing his stash and close with Carson McKee who wonders if it will EVER be over? Show Theme: Hypnostate Prelude to Common Sense The Show on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/whatthehellpodcast.bsky.social The Show on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/whatthehellpodcast/ The Show on Youtube:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjxP5ywpZ-O7qu_MFkLXQUQ The Show on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/whatthehellwereyouthinkingpod/ Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/kHmmrjptrq Our Website: www.whatthehellpodcast.com Patreon:  https://www.patreon.com/Whatthehellpodcast The Show Line: 347 687 9601 Closing Music: https://youtu.be/eofltXeiSVM?si=2IRyTVkIuYb2uI6m Buy Our Stuff: https://www.seltzerkings.com/shop Citations Needed: The Inside Story Of The Lafayette Park Crack Bust That George H.W. Bush Used To Sell The War On Drugs https://dcist.com/story/18/12/04/the-inside-story-of-the-lafayette-park-drug-bust-that-george-h-w-bush-used-to-sell-the-war-on-drugs/ The Disparate Treatment of Crack Cocaine and the Opioid Epidemic: Unveiling Racial Bias in Drug Policy https://www.scu.edu/government-ethics/resources/the-disparate-treatment-of-crack-cocaine-and-the-opioid-epidemic/#:~:text=Shortly%20thereafter%2C%20policymakers%20enacted%20the,impact%20on%20the%20Black%20community. Cracking Cocaine Myths https://pepperdine-graphic.com/cracking-cocaine-myths/ Demographic and socioeconomic correlates of powder cocaine and crack use among high school seniors in the United States https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5066573/ Governmental efforts to address the epidemic https://www.britannica.com/topic/crack-epidemic#ref334577 Just Blowing Smoke? https://magazine.emory.edu/issues/2013/autumn/of-note/just-blowing-smoke/index.html Revisiting the ‘Crack Babies' Epidemic That Was Not https://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/20/booming/revisiting-the-crack-babies-epidemic-that-was-not.html Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Audio Recording Audio Block Double-click here to upload or link to a .mp3. Learn more Sermon OutlineSpeaker: Rev. Scott StrickmanSermon Series: Come, Let Us Walk in the Light of the LordIsaiah 52:13-53:12 (ESV)13 Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.14 As many were astonished at you— his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind—15 so shall he sprinkle many nations. Kings shall shut their mouths because of him,for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.53:1 Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?2 For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground;he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.4 Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.5 But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities;upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way;and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth;like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who consideredthat he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?9 And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death,although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.10 Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief;when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.11 Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,because he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors;yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.Sermon OutlineOur longings to ascend are only satisfied in the one who descended. (52:13)1. How Bad Things Are53:6 “all we like sheep have gone astray” 53:2-3 “…no form… that we should desire… despise and rejected… we esteemed him not” 53:9 “although… there was no deceit in his mouth…”53:4 “yet we esteemed him… stricken by God”53:1 “who has believed?”2. How Good God Is52:14 “many were astonished” 53:3 “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief”53:5 “he was pierced for our transgressions… with his wounds we are healed” 53:6 “the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”53:11 “by his knowledge… make many to be accounted righteous”3. How Wise We Need to Be52:13 “Behold, my servant shall act wisely”53:10 “it was the will of the Lord” 53:10 “when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring”53:11 “out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied”Prayer of ConfessionOur great and exalted God, we need you to lead us in the way of life. We all are like sheep who have gone astray. We have not trusted you. We have not listened to you. We have not understood you. Foolishly rejecting you, we have done many things we should never have done. Our thoughts and actions expose deep roots of sin. We are astonished that your love is so sacrificial. We marvel that Jesus would suffer such terrible things to bear our iniquities. Forgive us. Heal us. Lead us in the way of righteousness and peace. Amen.Questions for ReflectionDescribe your desires for an “upward” life. How are you desiring growth, progress, a better future, etc.? What do you imagine fulfillment of those desires will look like?What is your response to the Bible's claim that all humans have sinned/are sinners? What feelings does that provoke?What can you learn from the metaphor that we are like sheep who have gone astray?Why was Jesus, a person who did so much good and nothing wrong, treated so terribly? What can we learn about human nature from how we responded to Jesus?How does the extreme suffering of Jesus reveal unique qualities of God? What do you see?Why did Jesus suffer as he did? Do you believe that he did these things for you? What do you have trouble understanding?Is there a way you can make yourself righteous? How does Isaiah 53 describe how things get fixed?What deep wounds can start to be healed as you open your life to the sacrificial love of God for you?Does Jesus teach us to seek suffering? Is the goal of life to give up good for misery? How do you wisely incorporate Jesus' teachings on suffering into your life? What are wise goals for life? What end are you oriented towards?How can you follow Jesus through periods of suffering? What is helpful to remember, to hold to, to hope for?Read AheadIsaiah Sermon Series

Audio Recording Sermon OutlineSpeaker: Rev. Scott StrickmanSermon Series: Come, Let Us Walk in the Light of the LordIsaiah 52:13-53:12 (ESV)13 Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.14 As many were astonished at you— his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind—15 so shall he sprinkle many nations. Kings shall shut their mouths because of him,for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.53:1 Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?2 For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground;he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.4 Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.5 But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities;upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way;and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth;like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who consideredthat he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?9 And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death,although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.10 Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief;when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.11 Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,because he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors;yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.Sermon OutlineOur longings to ascend are only satisfied in the one who descended. (52:13)1. How Bad Things Are53:6 “all we like sheep have gone astray” 53:2-3 “…no form… that we should desire… despise and rejected… we esteemed him not” 53:9 “although… there was no deceit in his mouth…”53:4 “yet we esteemed him… stricken by God”53:1 “who has believed?”2. How Good God Is52:14 “many were astonished” 53:3 “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief”53:5 “he was pierced for our transgressions… with his wounds we are healed” 53:6 “the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”53:11 “by his knowledge… make many to be accounted righteous”3. How Wise We Need to Be52:13 “Behold, my servant shall act wisely”53:10 “it was the will of the Lord” 53:10 “when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring”53:11 “out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied”Prayer of ConfessionOur great and exalted God, we need you to lead us in the way of life. We all are like sheep who have gone astray. We have not trusted you. We have not listened to you. We have not understood you. Foolishly rejecting you, we have done many things we should never have done. Our thoughts and actions expose deep roots of sin. We are astonished that your love is so sacrificial. We marvel that Jesus would suffer such terrible things to bear our iniquities. Forgive us. Heal us. Lead us in the way of righteousness and peace. Amen.Questions for ReflectionDescribe your desires for an “upward” life. How are you desiring growth, progress, a better future, etc.? What do you imagine fulfillment of those desires will look like?What is your response to the Bible's claim that all humans have sinned/are sinners? What feelings does that provoke?What can you learn from the metaphor that we are like sheep who have gone astray?Why was Jesus, a person who did so much good and nothing wrong, treated so terribly? What can we learn about human nature from how we responded to Jesus?How does the extreme suffering of Jesus reveal unique qualities of God? What do you see?Why did Jesus suffer as he did? Do you believe that he did these things for you? What do you have trouble understanding?Is there a way you can make yourself righteous? How does Isaiah 53 describe how things get fixed?What deep wounds can start to be healed as you open your life to the sacrificial love of God for you?Does Jesus teach us to seek suffering? Is the goal of life to give up good for misery? How do you wisely incorporate Jesus' teachings on suffering into your life? What are wise goals for life? What end are you oriented towards?How can you follow Jesus through periods of suffering? What is helpful to remember, to hold to, to hope for?Read AheadIsaiah Sermon Series

THIS MESSAGE IS A CONTINUED READING OF MARTIN LUTHER'S COMMENTARY ON THE BOOK OF ROMANS. WE HAPPEN TO BE ON MARTIN LUTHER'S CONTINUED COMMENTARY OF ROMANS 4: 7 Saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered.THERE IS NO GREATER COMMENTARY ON THE BOOK OF ROMANS THAN MARTIN LUTHER. HE IS VERY DEEP AND PARADOXICAL. THE NEW CREATION, WHICH IS PARADOXICAL IN NATURE IMMEDIATELY KNOWS WHEN HE BEGINS TO READ THIS COMMENTARY THAT MARTIN LUTHER'S WORDS ARE MATCHING HIS NEW CREATION NATURE. THIS COMMENTARY, BEING AS DEEP AS IT IS, CAN BE READ OVER AND OVER, EACH TIME LEARNING A LITTLE MORE. SO LET US BE READY TO BE IN FOR A BLESSING, AS WE STOP THE MESSAGE, RE-LISTEN AND THINKWHEN LISTENING TO MARTIN LUTHER, ALWAYS KEEP IN MIND THE FUNCTION OF LAW!BOTTOM LINE, IS: THE LAW CAN ONLY CONDEMN, THROWING US TO FEET OF JESUS CRYING OUT FOR MERCY, AS JESUS IS GIVING US A HAND UP, SAYING, FEAR NOT I HAVE FULFILLED MY FATHER'S COMMANDS FOR YOU, JUST BELIEVE ME BY FAITH IN MY RIGHTEOUSNESS AS YOUR TICKET INTO HEAVEN, BUT NEVER FORGETTING TO BE BE IN A STATE OF REPENTANCE OVER OUR ORIGINAL SIN. LIKE A BROKEN LEG, IN A CAST, WE KNOW WE WILL BE HEALED, SO WILL OUR CAST OF A BROKEN HEART OVER ORIGINAL SIN BE TAKEN OFF AT OUR PHYSICAL DEATH AND WE WILL NO LONGER BE WALKING WITH A SOUL LIMP. Martin Luther:“COROLLARYTo say: "God has obliged us to have grace and therefore to whatis impossible"is an inept and foolish way of speaking. I excuse the most blessed God. He is innocent of this deception. He has not done this. He has NOT OBLIGED us to HAVE GRACE, but he has OBLIGEDus to FULFILL THE LAWin order to give us HIS GRACEWHEN, HUMILIATED,we ask for it. But these men make grace into something that causes indignation and they imagine what is hateful. For what does itmean to say: God has obliged us to have grace, and he does notwant to accept the fulfillment of the law according to the substanceof the deed if it is not also fulfilled according to the intention ofthe lawgiver? Is this not the same as to say: Look, can we, then,fulfill the law without grace? Is it not enough that he has burdenedus with the law, without adding his demand that we should havegrace, as a new exaction? What arrogance! What ignorance of sin!What ignorance of God! What ignorance of the law! IN OTHER WORDS, DOES JESUS WANT US TO ADD UNTO HIS PERFECT FULFILLMENT OF HIS FATHER'S COMMANDMENTS TO HIM WHILE HE WAS HERE ON EARTH?ABSOLUTELY NOT! What arrogance! What ignorance of sin!What ignorance of God! What ignorance of the law! Thus, whenGod offers grace to us miserable creatures BECAUSEHE SEES that WECANNOT FULFILL his LAWand so that we may now fulfill it by the powerof grace, (FOOLISHLY, BELIEVE WE, THAT WE CAN ONLY FULFILL PART OF GOD'S LAW, JESUS THEN WILL FULFILL THE REMAINDER)THESE PEOPLE are NOT yet sufficiently humbled and they still do not know that the law cannot be fulfilled according to thesubstance of the deed as they themselves say. It may be, then, thatthey mean by "substance of the deed" an external action. But theydo not do this at all; they have reference also to an internal action.they subsume under "substance of the deed" a work that isdone for the sake of God from the heart by an act of the will thatis naturally educed. Fools that they are, they do not notice that thewill, even if it could, would never do what the law prescribes. Forit resists the good and inclines toward evil. This they certainlymust know in their own experience, and yet they talk so irrever-ently and sacrilegiously. For as long as it is reluctant toward thelaw, it is turned away from it and THUS DOES NOT FULLFILL ITConsequently, it needs GRACE to make it willing and cheerful toward thelaw.I was right, then, when I said that ALL our GOOD is OUTSIDE US;andCHRIST IS this GOOD.

Skip shames LeBron for the childish antics he displayed against Stephen A. Smith, from the aggressive confrontation to the petty interview with Pat McAfee. Skip then responds to Gilbert Arenas' 2 1/2 hour long show about Skip himself. Finally Skip dismantles the power of cyberbullying and tells athletes to “JUST DON'T READ” online comments! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

"Foolishly you're laughing in the front seat, wondering if your life's already gone" - The TisburysThe Vapors Nonstop RadioThe Jellybricks All About YouGrip Weeds Gonna Find My WayThe Tisburys Second Sign (ft. The Lunar Year)Ruth Ruth Dedicate It to YouFreedy Johnston Death of StarsThe Rembrandts Easy To ForgetAny Trouble Playing BogartLizzie Borden & The Axes Out of TouchArmchair Oracles An Extension Of Life's NecessitiesYours And Mine The KidNick Piunti & The Complicated Men I'm ReadyChris Church Life On A TrampolineThe Shazam Goodbye American ManModern English I Know Your SoulIcecream Hands Everything You AreThe Davenports You Could've Just Said ThatNik Kershaw How High?Toad The Wet Sprocket The Best Of MeThe Patti Smith Group Pissing In A River

We're joined by the man himself, David Yontef! David from ‘Behind The Velvet Rope' podcast shares the latest Bravo news including Karen Huger being offered a 60 day jail plea deal and turning it down, WTF!? Plus, Tom Sandoval is now playing weddings, the latest with Justin Baldoni v Blake Lively, Teddi Mellencamp speaks out on social media after brain cancer diagnosis. Lastly, James Kennedy was working Oscar parties after domestic violence arrest, what we know. MY Go Big Podcasting Courses Are Here! Purchase Go Big Podcasting and learn to start, monetize, and grow your own podcast. USE CODE: Cyber10 for 10% OFF **SHOP my Amazon Marketplace - especially if you're looking to get geared-up to start your own Podcast!!!** https://www.amazon.com/shop/thesarahfrasershow Show is sponsored by: Amazfit.com/tsfs are the best, most affordable, and long-lasting performance watches! Use code TSFS for 10% OFF HometownHero.com for the BEST CBD and THC products that support Veterans, and use code TSFS to take 20% off your first purchase Horizonfibroids.com get rid of those nasty fibroids LittleSaints.com use code TSFS for 20% off your first order, these are my FAV non-alcoholic cocktails, enjoy better sleep, less stress, and more! MeetFabric.com/TSFS join the thousands of parents who trust Fabric to help protect their family. Apply today in just minutes Nutrafol.com use code TSFS for FREE shipping and $10 off your subscription Prolonlife.com/tsfs 15% off sitewide plus a $40 bonus gift when you subscribe to their 5-Day Nutrition Program! ● Try their detox that has REAL FOOD and WORKS! Rula.com/tsfs to get started today. That's R-U-L-A dot com slash tsfs for convenient therapy that's covered by insurance. Quince.com/tsfs for FREE shipping on your order and 365 day returns Follow me on Instagram/Tiktok: @thesarahfrasershow   ***Visit our Sub-Reddit: reddit.com/r/thesarahfrasershow for ALL things The Sarah Fraser Show!!!*** Advertise on The Sarah Fraser Show: thesarahfrasershow@gmail.com Got a juicy gossip TIP from your favorite TLC or Bravo show? Email: thesarahfrasershow@gmail.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Nick Harsh | February 27, 2025

What stupidness were you convinced to do?

In 1 Samuel 13, Saul runs out of patience and takes matters into his own hands. Have you ever done that?

Lets take a look at the Millionaires and Billionaires in the Trump Team.

6.26 is PACKEDYou can find every episode of this show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or YouTube. Prime Members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. For more, visit barstool.link/barstoolyak

Riley, Taliyah and Dominique, oh my!Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Upstairs, at the same time.Pist; pist,' Taliyah hissed at Mikhail. ‘Wake up.'‘I'm awake,' he replied, though his eyes remained closed.‘I can't believe Vlad is cheating on Brandy.'‘Brandy keeps telling him that she's Darius' girl. How long is he supposed to hang around waiting for her to decide?' Mikhail questioned.‘I; I warned her; he had better not be fucking my Mother.'‘Do you want me to go find out?' he finally opened his eyes. Taliyah's head and shoulders were visible from his horizontal form as she looked from the bed. She was still dressed in her cheerleader's uniform.‘Don't be stupid,' she spat. ‘I'll go look.'‘Yeah; because that couldn't possibly turn out wrong,' he chided her.‘Damn it. Stop making sense. I prefer you being an insensitive jerk.'‘Default setting, gotchya,' he laughed softly. A few moment's passed.‘I can't hear anything,' Taliyah closed her eyes and strained her hearing. Mikhail rolled up into a sitting position then stood.‘I'll be right back.'‘I'm coming with you,' she slid off the bed as well. Mikhail took in the girl-becoming-a-woman before him. Taliyah Malik was taller than Brandy by a good three inches. Her skin was mocha with a dark birthmark under her right breast. Her eyes were dark, intelligent and sparkled when she was angry, as he could well attest.Her lips were full and very little acne scared her face. Her thick, kinky black hair was pulled back in a woven ponytail with beads on the last few inches. Her arms were firm and strong, as were her legs (she'd punched and kicked him with real force), her breasts were hemispherical and pert, with long thin nipples that poked through her clothes when she was aroused. Her stomach was soft to the touch, curvy yet tightly muscled beneath the surface. She was a true athlete.Her thighs and calves were muscular, as was her curvaceous ass which stuck out of its own accord and was sturdy to the touch. Mikhail knew. He'd played in depth with that ass just this afternoon; and loved it. Her full, rich lips were upturned in her normal sneer.‘Where did your clothes go?' she hissed. Mikhail was down to his boxers.‘I don't sleep in my clothes. It is uncomfortable. Besides, we've seen each other naked, so what's the big deal?' he countered.‘It will be a really big deal if Momma finds you like this, in my room.'‘I'll tell her you beat me up, took my clothes and made me sleep at the foot of your bed like a bad serf, or a good dog,' he chuckled. She smacked his chest.Together they went to her room door which had been left partially open when they fell asleep. Taliyah was still disappointed that she hadn't made more progress with the terribly annoying, yet definitely attractive youngest member of the Samsonov clan. He seemed immune to her status at school, or her mother's critical position in city government. He was the most exasperatingly independent man she'd ever met. She was also oddly drawn to his muscular frame, pale blonde hair and crystal blue eyes that reminded her of a raptor.Taliyah couldn't quite accept that she was also drawn to the man's brutality. There was a barely contained beast dwelling behind those crystal orbs; and she wanted to see more of it. She wanted to test it and she wanted to make that challenge because she sure that was exactly how he would see it, a one on one fight for dominance.She couldn't gain dominance in Darius' power structure. The whole cheer squad had been reduced to play toys for the football team. Being a girl meant she was a vagina and little more despite all her personal ambitions. Brandy barely cared, she was so far under Darius' spell. Mikhail was different though. She'd heard about how he treated Kaja; how Kaja was part of his team and was treated as if her ambitions mattered.It wasn't until the car ride home that Taliyah realized that Kaja hadn't hooked up with Mikhail yet. At first, she had thought Kaja was showing stunning wisdom for not dating one of the three most hated White boys in school. The hunting lodge had changed all that. He'd abused her, fought with her and taken control over her and she'd made him pay for every step; and it had been fun. He didn't belittle her efforts nor insinuate that his success was anything more than a temporary victory for either side.She'd verified that in the stables when she'd wailed on him good. Even his scary/crazy mother had thought Mikhail need a good thrashing. How he had ended up in her bedroom when the lights went out was still a mystery. Mikhail hadn't once looked at her funny, or tried anything. After their earlier tussle on the floor and the resulting make-out session, he'd rolled over and gone straight to bed. She'd heard Vlad come in, their whispered conversation and then they were alone.‘I'll go first,' he said.‘Why do you; ,' she got out before he interrupted.‘If I'm seen, I'll be dismissed. If you are seen, there could be a long explanation you don't want to hear,' he told her. ‘I go first.'This time she didn't fight him on the point.As they sneaked down the stairs, Taliyah could make out the noises were coming from the darkened kitchen. From the echoes, some serious screwing was going on.‘Red Wolf Bitch?' they heard Vlad taunt her followed by the sound of a hand slapping an ass hard.‘Yes-yes-yes,' she exhaled with glee. ‘I'm your bitch.'‘Bitch,' Taniyah whispered. ‘He's fucking Riley, that tramp.' She was relieved it wasn't her mother; it was the woman her dad had been cheating with now cheating with the man who was fucking Brandy silly; which was confusing.‘We can go back now,' Mikhail advised her. ‘Nothing to shock us, or make us want to stop them.'‘You like sex, don't you?' Vlad continued to tease her. He was also raining down more spanks. The sound of his cupped hand was a counterpoint to the sounds of her sweaty, meaty behind impacting his crotch.‘Love, love it,' Riley huff.‘What a slut,' Taliyah seethed. ‘I hope he fucks her so hard she can't go to work tomorrow. I hope it hurts.'‘Like it rough?' Vlad said.‘Of course she does, Bro,' Mikhail said quietly. ‘Listen to her howl.'‘Yes,' Riley exhaled.‘You were dressed to fuck Chine tonight, weren't you?' Vlad led her along.‘Yes; oh; no,' she gulped.‘Whore,' Taliyah hissed yet again.‘Did you fuck him today?'‘I bet she did,' Taliyah was getting steamed.‘No; No,' she howled.‘Lying cow,' Taliyah grumbled.‘Let's go back upstairs,' Mikhail gently tried to turn things around.‘I don't care,' Vlad chuckled. ‘I'm fucking you now. Come here,' I coaxed her along; out of sight of the two on the stairs.Reluctantly, Taliyah let herself be corralled and taken back to her room.‘Ga-ga-ga,' Riley choked. ‘God yes-yes-yes, give it to me.'Once inside, Taliyah began pacing angrily.‘He's fucking that sow,' she grumbled. ‘He's fucking her good and that shit belongs to Brandy, not that cheating whore.'‘He's fucking her so she won't be a BBC whore anymore,' Mikhail said casually. ‘In the same way Brandy isn't Darius's pet bitch, Vlad is going to rip Riley apart and fix what ails her on the sexual front. Trust me. That is how it will work out.'‘Trust you? You barely know anything about sex and women,' she blasted him.‘Mom was a far bigger slut than anyone in this burgh and she knows all the tricks, lies and deceptions; and she is confident that Vlad can get the job done.'‘She's crazier than you are and that's saying something,' she retorted.Mikhail went back to the blanket and pillow he had on the floor, making ready to go back to sleep.‘That's what you are going to do?' Taliyah sounded bitter.‘What I plan to do is shut you up, fuck you, curl your toes and make you scream out my name while I force you into climax after climax,' he said as he lowered himself to the pillow.‘I won't let you,' she snarled.‘'Letting' wasn't part of the program, remember? You'll do it because you want to put me in my place and you think you can.'‘Not likely,' she groused. ‘You are never having sex with me again.'‘That's okay. I'll have those precious memories to put me to sleep. The sweat pooling on your lower back, the muscles around your sphincter pulling back along my cock as I pulled out of you and then that sucking noise when I pushed back in. I owned your ass and that will never change.'‘Son of a bitch,' she snarled as she jumped on him. She was playing his game yet she was sure she could win it and shove her victory in his face. One of her knees hit the carpeted ground while the other drove painfully into his hip. Taliyah hauled back to slap his upraised left arm with her right. Her left hand landed on his right triceps, trying to keep him pinned down.'Smack', came the first blow. The second one, he caught by his wrist and held tight. She shifted to her left, only to have that one snatched too. Foolishly, Taliyah went for the head butt, learning rapidly Mikhail had a head as hard as stone.‘Ow,' she gasped. She was so distracted she missed him rising up and kissing her on the lips. He tried again, so she tried to bite him.Taliyah kept struggling, but couldn't stop Mikhail from rolling them over so that he was on top. He paid for that advantage as he felt her stabbing her manicured fingernails into his right hand.‘Hurr; ‘ he grumbled. He didn't let go, though. He tried to kiss her again and got a bitten lip for his troubles.‘Next time I'll bite off your tongue,' Taliyah promised. She was also keeping her voice low so that this fight would remain just between the two of them.‘I'm willing to test that promise,' he gave his best wolfish grin. Mikhail pressed his groin into hers. Taliyah had her legs around him, her ankles pressing into his ass. She was also dry humping his steel pole.‘Get the hell off of me,' she glowered.‘Make me,' he chuckled. Taliyah thrashed about, tried to bring his capturing hands within bite range and endeavored to buck him off with up thrusts of her hips, all to no avail. What she did accomplish was to get both of them very horny. Their quandary was Taliyah couldn't get him off of her and Mikhail couldn't further manipulate her unless he let go of an arm.He let go of her left arm. She immediately slapped him with it, but that allowed Mikhail to roll them back over to where the painful leverage caused her to let go of her leg-lock around his hips. Mikhail also had a free hand. He used it to land a resounding smack on her clad bottom. A slap-for-spank exchange erupted between the two with Taliyah getting more turned on by the second. She knew he was getting into it.She changed things up first, grabbing him by the chin.‘I am Not your bitch, Boy,' she taunted him. Mikhail's counter-ploy was to grab hold of one scrumptious ass cheek and give it a good squeeze.‘Yes you are,' he laughed.‘I'm on top,' she snarled.‘This gives me better access to your tits,' he kept chortling. ‘I'm enjoying the view.'‘I'm going to kill you,' she seethed. Her hand dropped from his chin to his throat as she tried to throttle him. Mikhail's throat muscles flexed, giving her poor purchases. Mikhail took the opportunity to move his hand between the two cheeks and probe her anus through her shorts and panties.‘No you don't,' she rumbled. ‘We are not doing that again,' but her insistence sounded a bit weak, even to her ears.‘What are you saying?' he grew serious. ‘That was the best sex I ever had.'‘I hope you enjoy the memories. That hurt and I'm; stop that,' she protested. Mikhail had moved his questing hand from outside the clothing to inside. He had a finger probing her sphincter in a flash.Taliyah's hand went back to his jaw.‘I said stop that,' she insisted at the same time she stopped trying to wiggle her ass away from the intrusion. Mik drew her higher up his body so that Taliyah's face was above his and her breasts were in his face. The real motive behind that action was revealed when he dipped his fingers further beneath her ass and penetrated her cunt with a finger.‘Oh, now you think you are going to get some of my cunt,' she sneered. ‘Ain't happening. You had your chance this afternoon.'‘Afraid you'll like it? Afraid you'll like it as much as you loved me forcing you this afternoon?' he teased her.‘Bitch; I'll make you my Bitch, Mik. I don't need your cock,' she countered.‘You know I like my Black Bitches quiet,' he snorted. ‘You talk; ‘ Taliyah pressed her lips down on his, shoved her tongue between his teeth and waged war with his tongue before pulling back.‘You talk too much,' she mocked him. Mikhail took his slick finger back to her puckered hole. This time he penetrated. Taliyah flinched, gasped then groaned.‘I hate you,' she panted.‘I'm not particularly fond of you either,' he grinned up at her.‘Liar,' she huffed. ‘You are getting off on my body. I know your brother does.'‘Vlad's got good taste in women,' he radiated masculine charm. ‘I think mine is better.'‘Damn right she is. This still doesn't mean I'm going to let you fuck me.'‘You had better step up your game if you plan to stop me,' he challenged her. Taliyah thrust down on his blood-filled tool and ground her vulva in. Mikhail could then switch up his hand so that his thumb was pressing into her bunghole and two fingers were pumping her twat. She was sticky-wet.‘Fuck you,' she growled. She let go of his jaw, supported her weight with her free arm and propped her midsection up. That forced her shorts and panties down since Mikhail wouldn't release his finger-holds in her nether regions. Mikhail, sensing the change in her stratagem, let go of her right hand. Taliyah smirked down at him at the same time she shimmied out of her clothing. Mikhail quickly shed his boxers.‘Right pants pocket, condoms,' he told her. Taliyah drew up short.‘When did you get them?'‘Vlad gave them to me,' he answered. ‘I guess he keeps a supply around in case Brandy gets frisky.' That was a carefully crafted lie. He knew they came from his mother. But telling Taliyah that would curtail his upcoming sexual romp.‘I'm on the pill.'‘Do you trust it?'‘Your sperms not that strong,' she countered.‘I'll have to give you a double; ‘ he got out.‘Shut up,' she taunted him. ‘You talk too much. I like my white boys doing something else with their tongues.'‘That's date three material,' he chuckled.‘I'm not going to give you the choice.'‘You talk too much. Less lip, more action.'She settled down on him, his cock pressed against his lower stomach while she wriggled over the base.‘I'm not sure I want to fuck you now,' her voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘I don't do White boys.' Mik shrugged. That flummoxed her, until he seized her lapse in caution to flip them back over, mounting her before she could push him off.‘Bastard,' she grumbled. He still wasn't inside of her because his hands were too busy keeping her hands pinned over her head. That didn't stop him from humping her. When he went in for a kiss, she decided to get fierce instead of resisting. She chewed on his lower lip, twisted and wrestled with his tongue against his palate. They exchanged a soulful kiss that caused her to shiver from neck to tailbone.Slowly, Taliyah's right leg worked its way up his left side until her knee passed her waist. She was now wide open and ready for some serious screwing. Mikhail released one of her hands and was promptly slapped. His hand went between them so he could line up his cock for penetration.‘I don't think so,' she teased him. ‘This isn't going to happen.'With that declaration, Mikhail's cockhead rubbed up against her labia, teasing it from hood to perineum.‘Not my ass, you bastard,' she glared.‘Fine, take off your shirt.'‘Why should I do; ah; anything for you?'‘Woman, is it going to kill you to show me your tits again?' he complained.‘What is the magic word?' she taunted him.‘You are a sexy bitch,' he rumbled.‘I was looking for 'please', but that will do,' she snorted. Mikhail let go of her other hand allowing Taliyah to take off her top and bra together.‘Damn, those are some sweet ta-tas,' he remarked.‘These?' she tantalized him by bringing her upper arms together, squeezing her bountiful mounds together and pushing them up.‘Yeah,' Mikhail studied them.‘Get to licking,' she demanded. Mikhail shot her a devilish look. He couldn't pump her and take in her boobies at the same time, so he had to slide down to take them both in. His suckling was ravenous, toothy and full of vigor. He not only lavished attention on her thick, dark brown nipples and areoles, he licked every inch of them, especially the bottom where she was salty with sweat.Quickly she was writhing beneath him. She released her breast augmentation to pull him in tighter by grabbing his ear and using it like a steering wheel. Her left hand went between them and began stroking his aching cock, giving it a brutal yank every time his teeth got too sharp against her tender flesh.‘Yeah; wo; yeah; nice. Rashaan won't do this for me,' she cooed.Mikhail took that insinuation of a comparison to smoothly transition his hand back to her flank, gripping and kneading her perfect, muscular buttock.‘Oh; ah; that's it; yes; this is; so wrong. I; hate you.'‘Hate, love, fucking is fucking, woman,' he answered. ‘You are sensual,' they maneuvered him into her molten, slippery folds, ‘and I'm hot for you. That's enough for me.'‘This isn't going; to become a; ah; habit,' she chuffed.‘I don't think so,' he rebounded. ‘I kind of like this and I'm faster than you.'‘Next time; oh yeah; I'll rip your nuts; ah; off,' she swore.‘I'll; ugh; take that under; (grunt); advisement,' he countered. ‘You feeling fucking awesome; I have to do this again.'‘No you won't,' she groaned. Mikhail began to delve deep into her depths, swiveling his crotch to make sure his cock rubbed as much of her vagina as possible. The more he fucked into her, the more Taliyah rebounded. She'd also finally shut up. She was having the best sex of her short life. None of the gang-bangs and private sessions with Rashaan could compare. She didn't know how to handle this.Slowly the looks Brandy gave Vlad made haunting sense. If Vlad could fuck as well as his brother; that would explain why she didn't want to give that White boy up. Taliyah feared she could get used to this. She already found Mikhail intriguing, strong, vicious and combative, fearless. He didn't give a fuck about what anyone thought. He wasn't even worried about what his brothers thought and did.She really liked that, him not giving a shit, living up to his own expectations and those alone. Even his scary/spooky crazy mother didn't hold him back. Mikhail's rod was caressing, massaging, loving every inch of her vaginal love box.‘You are being awful quiet,' he teased her.‘I thought you liked your Black bitches quiet, asshole,' she shot back.‘I want to hear you scream,' he laughed. Taliyah grabbed Mikhail's right shoulder and dug her fingernails in enough to cause him pain.‘How about you screaming, bastard?' she huffed. She was getting close and she took some of her erotic tension out on his flesh. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,' she covered her mouth and gave Mikhail the squirming and climax he wanted. He barely lasted seconds beyond her, his body tensing up as he drove into her harder and harder before his balls unleashed his torrents of cum.Four, five, six times he erupted. They lay coupled together, both struggling for breathe, sweaty and exhausted.‘Get off me,' she moaned. ‘You are heavy.'Mikhail snaked an arm underneath her then rolled over so that her weight was now on him.‘Oh, you think you are being clever,' she griped. ‘I still hate you.'‘I didn't fuck you to win you over. I fucked you because you are a cock-tease that I had to have. I could care less about your attitude,' he zinged. She hit him on the chest. He laughed, so she hit him again. Finally Taliyah propped herself up, her elbows on his pectorals and her chin supported by her linked hands.‘Are you ever not a jerk?'‘I aim for consistency,' he chuckled.‘I don't know how I'm going to put up with you,' she mused.‘I imagine you will be constantly kicking my ass when I piss you off. That works for my brothers,' he told her.‘Are you one of those masochist, a freaky jerk?'‘Not particularly. If you weren't so damn hot, I'd have dumped you by now.'‘You are an infuriating ass,' she sizzled. ‘Am I just a fuck toy for you?'‘I'm in your room in the middle of the night with your mother just down the hall; yeah; I'm so hard up for a screw that I'm putting up with all this fucked up shit,' he remarked.‘A simple 'no' would suffice,' she leaned in until they were nose to nose. Mikhail tilted his head slightly so he could lick her nose.‘Eew; now I have your slimy spit on my nose,' she complained.‘You have another form of my bodily fluids in your cunt, Taliyah,' he pointed out.‘You are about as romantic as a spittoon. Vlad gives a crap about Brandy. Why can't you give a damn about me?'‘Taliyah,' Mik hesitated. ‘I'm sleeping on your God-damn floor. We are having sex on your God-damn floor and not your far more comfortable bed. If you are expecting sappy words, you are fucking the wrong Samsonov. You should have picked Alexander. He'd treat you like a lady.'‘I would have, but he left,' she lied. Alexander did nothing to engage her spirit and Mikhail resonated with her soul. Mikhail shrugged, rolled onto his side and let his cock slip out of her sex sleeve. She could feel some of his seed leaking out so she moved up, grabbed a Kleenex and cleaned herself off. She even took the precaution of hiding it beneath some other trash. There was no sense in having a fight with her Mother over her raping Mikhail on her bedroom floor.She gathered up her panties and bra, putting them on while sitting on the edge of her bed. Mikhail took the break to retrieve his boxers. She wanted to lie down and try to order her thoughts about her Father, and Rashaan, and bitterly, about Mikhail. Mikhail took her by the hand and pulled her to his kneeling form.‘Lay down with me a bit,' he demanded. She wanted to resist, except she was both physically and mentally tired.Taliyah settled in by Mikhail's side. She rested in the crux of his arm, her head using his shoulder as a pillow. As sleep took her, she worried about what her Mother would say when she found them this way. She nodded off deciding she didn't care. Brandy had stolen her bit of happiness so why couldn't she seize some of her own?Dominique leaned her back against the wall next to Taliyah's door, controlling her own breathing and recalling much of what had passed between her daughter and her enemy/lover. Woken up by the same erotic noises made by that slut, Riley, fucking that Samsonov boy, Dominique had stepped out into the hall just in time to see Taliyah leading Mikhail back into her room.She had listened to most of their exchange, twice coming to the verge of storming in, acting offended and throwing Mikhail out on his ear. Both times, Taliyah's feisty retorts caused her to pull up short and silently urge her daughter on, to dominate the son of Gayle Fonteneau and make him perform. Instead, she and Mikhail had given as good as they each got, coupled like they belonged together and matched each other sexually.Now her daughter was cuddling on the floor with the son of her family's nemesis, softly snoring her way to post-coital bliss. Dominique was wet between the thighs and had an itch she couldn't scratch. Had she not been so furious with Chinedu, she would have called him. Instead, she was alone; and then the noise from downstairs picked up again.{Riley's Ass and Dominque's Pleasure}I had been working over Riley's labia and clitoris while she attempted to eat her plateful of ribs. She was huffing and puffing as she ripped through the last three.‘Let's go to the sofa,' I said then licked her fingers clean.‘I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do it one more time, as long as Dominique doesn't find out.'I led her to the sofa. She was expecting to recline on the furniture while I had other plans.I pushed her behind so that she fell over the arm rest. Riley giggled.‘You like my ass?'‘There is a lot of you to like and I have something special in mind,' I informed her. I knelt behind her, ran two fingers up her inner thigh and delved back into her sloppy cunt. I began kissing each ass cheek, working my way into her crack. With my left hand still working over her vaginal canal, I opened up her buttock with my right.Running my tongue from her sweet secretions to her anus brought forth wanton moaning and hip gyrations. I went back and forth for several minutes until I sensed her on the cusp. I rapidly pumped my fingers into her cunt, pressing up with all my dexterity while driving my tongue into her rectum. She jumped, groaned loudly then flopped back down on the sofa.‘Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh,' she labored on and on until her teeth clenched and she began grunting loudly. Her eruption caused her whole plump body to vibrate and quiver. I punctuated her latest outburst with a resounded pop to the ass. That spurred her on to greater vocalizations. I had her going for over a minute until she lay utterly helpless to my predations.I went back to her sphincter, drilling in one finger slowly to the second knuckle. When that became less constrained, I worked in a second. When I went for the third, she mumbled something I couldn't make out.‘What was that?' I inquired.‘I don't do anal,' she pleaded.‘Chinedu already told Dominique and me that he did; and you liked it,' I deceived her.‘He did?' she hesitated then, ‘Oh, okay,' and she submitted to my advances. I had to wonder why she lied to me. Did she not like it, or had she thought I would think less of her because of it? I worked her over with my three fingers until her anus relaxed. Next, I took it easy with my cock, tested her physical frontiers with my cock and her emotional waters with my efforts.‘Hmm,' I rumbled as I worked my full length in at a steady pace. As I pulled out, I saw Dominique looking at us from the foyer. She must have just come down the stairs. I drove my cock back into Riley's ass while keeping eye contact with Dominique. I was kind of curious why she wasn't ripping us both a new asshole.‘You want this cock, don't you?' I asked.‘Yes,' she gasped. ‘Yes; I'm a slut,' she sobbed.‘Hey, at least you are honest,' I allowed. ‘And you are good at it too.'‘Oh; umm; thank you,' she hiccupped.‘You're welcome,' I pounded her ass for a minute, silent except for Riley's gasps, grunts and moans. It was positively glove-like by this time and every thrust drove her farther into her own sensual euphoria. Hey, she really liked cock.‘So, what do you think of Dominique?' I surprised them both.‘I, huh, what?' she tried to order her thoughts.‘Is she a good boss?'‘Ya, yes,' she panted.‘You find her sexy, don't you?' I tossed out there. This was one of the lessons I was supposed to use on Brandy, except the recipient of the sexy was Taliyah.‘I; a little; ‘ she huffed. She was getting close so I slowed my pace.‘Have you ever brushed up against her ass, touched it?'‘Once; well, a few times.'‘Nice,' I stroked her tramp stamp. ‘I bet is it luscious and warm to the touch. I bet she knows you do it, too.'‘Really?' she gulped.‘Oh yeah,' I looked Dominique's way. ‘She's got to be a sexual volcano. I bet she's got great, silky thighs too. I bet you'd like touching them.'‘May, maybe; ‘‘I'd go down on her if I had half a chance, if she didn't despise me,' I led her on. ‘I bet she tastes like molasses.'‘I don't know. I guess so; I've done girls before; I kind of liked it,' she murmured.‘Good for you,' I gave her a light spank. ‘If you had to go down on Dominique to keep your job; and if you promised to nut Chinedu the next time he propositioned you, would you?'‘You mean eat her out?' Riley looked over her shoulder. I gave her three quick pummelings to get her back on track.‘Yeah, tongues and fingers, really tear her up, to keep your job?'‘Yes, yes,' she moaned.‘Yes, you'll fuck her, or yes, pound your asshole harder?' I teased her.‘Both!' she hissed loudly. ‘Tear me up!'‘Wish granted,' I murmured

PREVIEW: BUSH FIRE: AUSTRALIA: Biologist Danielle Clode of Adelaide Hills, South Australia, explains how the indigenous of Australia used fire stick farming, something the colonists foolishly did not follow. More later. 1897 Australia

Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.”  I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry.  ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch

Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.”  I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry.  ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

One of the top political analysts and strategists in the world, Sami Hamdi, describes how the 2024 elections are the most important in our lifetime. It is at the brink of zionist collapse. But will Muslims capitalize and make the right decisions? Or will they help zionists rise back up? Can Zakat really be used for politics? Are Ilhan Omar Rashida Talib good for Muslims? And one positive thing about zionism. Support US @ ⁠⁠patreon.com/ansaripodcast⁠⁠ Shop @ ⁠⁠cureyourworld.com⁠⁠ 00:00 Intro 01:37 best governed muslim country 12:52 zakat money for lobbying? 25:38 Sami Hamdi Reacts to Mehdi Hassan & Others 38:54 Trump is better than Harris, so Trump or Stein? 1:00:53 Local Elections Strategy  1:14:46 How to feel about Ilhan Omar & Rashida Talib 1:26:51 Where are Zionists most vulnerable  1:42:39 one message Sami wants to leave behind 1:48:54 one positive thing about zionism

What scares you that really shouldn't? 

_________________________________________________SUPPORT MY WORK:SUBSTACK: https://dersh.substack.com/ The Dershow staring Alan Dershowitz APPLE PODCAST: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-dershow/id1531775772SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/show/7Cx3Okc9mMNWtQyKJZoqVO?si=1164392dd4144a99_________________________________________________________FOLLOW ME:TWITTER: https://twitter.com/AlanDershRUMBLE: https://rumble.com/user/Sav_saysLOCALS: https://dershow.locals.com/YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/c/TheDershowWithAlanDershowitz________

KT McFarland: Kamala Harris foolishly doubles down on disgraceful Afghanistan withdrawal

Listen to KT McFarland on Cats & Cosby from Tuesday, August 27th, 2024. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices