Podcasts about French

World-class historian and Hoover Institution senior fellowVictor Davis Hanson joins Jillian for a masterclass on how crony capitalism, socialism, communism, and religion are intertwined — and why the stakes right now could not be higher A renowned classicist who has spent his life studying war, empires, and the rise and fall of civilizations takes us inside the mind of Karl Marx — who he was, what he believed, and how his theories morphed into the socialist and communist movements that reshaped the world and still haunt us today. We examine the deadly pendulum swing between crony capitalism and communism: how unrestrained, corrupt capitalism breeds the resentment that fuels Marxist revolutions, and how those revolutions inevitably give rise to regimes just as oppressive — if not worse.Victor then takes us back to the teachings of Christ and the religious roots of Western morality to reveal how our concepts of justice, equality, the individual, and the state all began as religious ideals — and how religion itself has been weaponized throughout history for both extraordinary good and staggering harm.From the early church to medieval Europe… from the French and Russian Revolutions, to Mao, the Cold War, Mamdani and the cultural battles of today… Victor walks us through the entire arc of history to explain how we arrived at this moment: a West that is exhausted, divided, and once again flirting with ideologies that have already burned the world down.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

So-called “libertines” like Mothe le Vayer revive ancient skepticism, provoking a backlash from Mersenne and Arnauld. Were they right to see the skeptics as anti-religious?

Can an opera, that most complex of art forms, take you back to childhood?  Unlikely though it might seem, L'Enfant et les Sortilèges (“The Child and the Enchantments”) does just that through the talents of composer Maurice Ravel and writer Colette.  This one-act opera, fantastical though it is, can transport you to all-too-real, seemingly lost memories.  Over the course of the story, our nameless child protagonist wrestles with his powerlessness and power, responsibility and dependence, piteousness and pity.  Join host Pat with Erica Miner, the mystery writer, lecturer and former Met Opera violinist, in celebration of the 150th anniversary of the birth of French composer Maurice Ravel on this episode of Opera for Everyone. For more on Erica Miner, visit ericaminer.com

Self-published authors Anne Ditmeyer and Martin Lake share what it really takes to go indie, from choosing platforms and budgeting for editing, design, and ISBNs to redefining success, avoiding scams, and playing the long game of finding readers and building a sustainable writing life.  You'll learn:Why Anne and Martin chose self-publishing over traditional routes and how they framed readers as their gatekeepers.How both authors define success beyond bestseller lists, from “book as business card” to improving the craft across 25 books.The real timelines of an indie career, including slow early sales, backlist effects, and why self-publishing is a marathon, not a sprint.What a realistic budget looks like for editing, design, typesetting, audiobooks, and print on demand, plus where they chose to DIY or outsource.How they use platforms such as Kindle Direct Publishing, Lulu, IngramSpark, Draft2Digital, and Shopify, and why most sales still come through Amazon.Practical approaches to marketing that do not require a huge following, including series, mailing lists, events, workshops, and using your existing communities.The role of ISBNs, imprints, metadata, and print on demand for getting into libraries and bookstores, and why in-store placement is harder than it looks.Red flags to watch for with third-party “publishing services” and why due diligence can save you thousands in fees and frustration.   Resources and Links:

Retrouvez l'émission du dimanche 16 novembre 2025 en (presque) intégralité.

What if the dream trip starts feeling like a job? We sit down with traveler and author Melissa Rodway to unpack the real highs and lows of a life built on movement—starting with a wild childhood year in Western Australia, a no-guidebook leap through Europe in the 90s, and the pre-smartphone hacks that kept her safe and curious in Costa Rica.The story turns when she quits an advertising job and heads to Southeast Asia for months of motion—Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, and China—where gritty bus rides collide with occasional five-star stays. Melissa shares how travel fatigue sneaks in, why purpose is the antidote, and the moment a seasoned traveler taught her the hardest lesson of the road: know when to go home. Those long rides turned into pages, and pages into The People You Meet, a witty, honest travel book about culture, food, and the human dramas that follow you across borders.Then we switch gears to a slower kind of adventure: five winter weeks in Quebec City during her year off. Daily cross-country laps on the Plains of Abraham, ice skating under big skies, a Nordic spa two minutes from home, and the electric roar of Carnival with its ice canoe races on the St. Lawrence. We dig into the ice hotel, maple syrup snow taffy, tourtière, French schools for all levels, and why Quebec is built for outdoor lovers in every season—plus practical tips on walkability, ferries to Lévis, nearby trails, and affordable stays that make lingering easy.If you're craving travel that's deeper, steadier, and more you, this conversation is your map.Map of Quebec CityYou can find Melissa:On Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/fly_travel_media/Her website at: https://flyrodway.comMelissa's book: The People You Meet BookSupport the showPlease download, like, subscribe, share a review, and follow us on your favorite podcasts app and connect with us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wherenextpodcast/View all listening options: https://wherenextpodcast.buzzsprout.com/HostsCarol Springer: https://www.instagram.com/carol.work.lifeKristen: https://www.instagram.com/team_wake/ If you can, please support the show or you can buy us a coffee.

Send us a textFrench-Today's Advanced Word: [Gérer]Want to master this word and sound more like a native French speaker?

Psaumes 115:1-18

Join the Squad as they review an amazing French film all about two sisters surviving a terrible night and then dealing with more scares 16 years later.   Email us at AllentownPresents@gmail.com

Fluent Fiction - French: Chasing Dreams in the Shadows of the Eiffel Tower Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/fr/episode/2025-11-16-08-38-20-fr Story Transcript:Fr: Les feuilles rousses tapissent le sol près de la tour Eiffel.En: The russet leaves carpet the ground near the tour Eiffel.Fr: Les touristes, chapeaux sur la tête, lèvent les yeux, émerveillés par la majesté de la tour.En: The tourists, hats on their heads, look up, amazed by the majesty of the tower.Fr: Paris est en fête pour l'Armistice.En: Paris is celebrating l'Armistice.Fr: Les rues résonnent des sons de trompettes et de rires.En: The streets resonate with the sounds of trumpets and laughter.Fr: Émile, un jeune artiste, se tient là, inquiet.En: Émile, a young artist, stands there, worried.Fr: Son amie Chantal, qui vient de passer la semaine à un colloque historique, lui a donné rendez-vous ici.En: His friend Chantal, who has just spent the week at a historical conference, has arranged to meet him here.Fr: Elle porte une lettre importante qu'elle veut lui remettre.En: She carries an important letter she wants to give him.Fr: Cette lettre pourrait changer la vie d'Émile : une bourse pour une école d'art prestigieuse.En: This letter could change Émile's life: a scholarship for a prestigious art school.Fr: Mais voilà, parmi la foule dense, Chantal a perdu la lettre.En: But alas, among the dense crowd, Chantal has lost the letter.Fr: Elle cherche frénétiquement dans son sac, rien.En: She frantically searches through her bag, nothing.Fr: Le temps presse, son train part bientôt.En: Time is of the essence, her train leaves soon.Fr: Émile voit son visage pâlir.En: Émile sees her face grow pale.Fr: Luc, le guide sympathique, surnommé "le sourire de la tour", les rejoint.En: Luc, the friendly guide, nicknamed "the smile of the tower," joins them.Fr: Il est préoccupé par la baisse du nombre de touristes mais reste toujours de bonne humeur.En: He is worried about the decline in the number of tourists but always remains in good spirits.Fr: « Qu'est-ce qui se passe ?En: "What's going on?"Fr: » demande Luc, voyant leur embarras.En: asks Luc, seeing their embarrassment.Fr: « Chantal a perdu une lettre très importante, » explique Émile, l'anxiété dans la voix.En: "Chantal has lost a very important letter," explains Émile, anxiety in his voice.Fr: « On doit la retrouver avant qu'elle parte à la gare.En: "We have to find it before she leaves for the station.Fr: Peux-tu nous aider ?En: Can you help us?"Fr: » Luc hoche la tête, compréhensif.En: Luc nods, understanding.Fr: Il connaît chaque recoin de la tour.En: He knows every corner of the tower.Fr: Ensemble, ils retracent les pas de Chantal, regardant sous chaque banc et autour des stands de souvenirs.En: Together, they retrace Chantal's steps, looking under each bench and around the souvenir stands.Fr: La tour Eiffel étincelle au-dessus d'eux, témoin silencieux de leur recherche.En: The tour Eiffel sparkles above them, a silent witness to their search.Fr: « C'était près de ces arbres que j'ai pris une photo, » se souvient Chantal.En: "It was near these trees that I took a photo," Chantal recalls.Fr: Soudain, Émile aperçoit quelque chose : un morceau de papier, emporté par le vent.En: Suddenly, Émile spots something: a piece of paper, carried by the wind.Fr: « La lettre !En: "The letter!"Fr: » crie-t-il, se précipitant.En: he shouts, rushing forward.Fr: Mais le vent est capricieux.En: But the wind is fickle.Fr: Le papier virevolte, s'approche des escaliers menant à la Seine.En: The paper whirls, approaching the stairs leading to the Seine.Fr: Émile court, son cœur battant.En: Émile runs, his heart pounding.Fr: Luc et Chantal suivent avec acharnement.En: Luc and Chantal follow with determination.Fr: Juste avant que la lettre ne disparaisse pour de bon, Émile s'étend de tout son long et l'attrape.En: Just before the letter vanishes for good, Émile stretches out fully and catches it.Fr: Il lâche un soupir de soulagement.En: He lets out a sigh of relief.Fr: Émile rend la lettre à Chantal, les mains tremblantes.En: Émile hands the letter back to Chantal, trembling hands.Fr: « Merci, » dit-elle avec gratitude.En: "Thank you," she says, with gratitude.Fr: En lisant l'offre confirmée dans la lettre, le visage d'Émile s'illumine d'une joie nouvelle.En: As he reads the confirmed offer in the letter, Émile's face lights up with new joy.Fr: Il se rend compte que cette lettre n'est pas juste un bout de papier ; elle symbolise son avenir.En: He realizes that this letter is not just a piece of paper; it symbolizes his future.Fr: Et, en chemin, il découvre qu'il a des amis prêts à l'aider - même des inconnus deviennent des alliés.En: And, along the way, he discovers that he has friends ready to help him—even strangers become allies.Fr: Devant la beauté de Paris et la nuit qui approche, Émile se sent inspiré.En: In front of the beauty of Paris and as night approaches, Émile feels inspired.Fr: Ce jour marque un tournant dans sa vie.En: This day marks a turning point in his life.Fr: Il comprend que créer son propre chemin est aussi important que suivre l'ombre des maîtres du passé.En: He understands that creating his own path is as important as following the shadow of the masters of the past.Fr: Le son des cloches résonne dans l'air frais.En: The sound of bells rings out in the fresh air.Fr: Paris, en ce jour d'Armistice, témoigne non seulement d'histoires passées, mais aussi de nouvelles qui commencent.En: Paris, on this jour d'Armistice, bears witness not only to past stories but also to new ones beginning.Fr: Émile, fort de son aventure, est prêt à peindre son propre avenir.En: Émile, strengthened by his adventure, is ready to paint his own future. Vocabulary Words:the leaves: les feuillesto carpet: tapisseramazed: émerveilléthe majesty: la majestéto resonate: résonnerthe trumpets: les trompettesthe laughter: les riresworried: inquietthe letter: la lettrethe scholarship: la bourseprestigious: prestigieusealas: voilàthe crowd: la foulefrantically: frénétiquementthe essence: l'essencepale: pâlirthe guide: le guidethe corner: le recointo retrace: retracerthe bench: le bancsparkles: étincellewitness: témoinsuddenly: soudainthe heart: le cœurdetermination: l'acharnementa sigh: un soupirthe gratitude: la gratitudeto symbolize: symboliserthe shadow: l'ombrethe bells: les cloches

Fluent Fiction - French: Montmartre's Serendipitous Inspiration: A Creative Journey Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/fr/episode/2025-11-16-23-34-01-fr Story Transcript:Fr: Montmartre est le quartier préféré de Camille.En: Montmartre is Camille's favorite neighborhood.Fr: Ce matin-là, elle se réveille avec un désir intense de nouveauté.En: That morning, she wakes up with an intense desire for something new.Fr: Elle en parle à Étienne et Sophie, ses deux amis proches.En: She talks about it with Étienne and Sophie, her two close friends.Fr: "Je veux trouver l'inspiration pour ma prochaine œuvre," dit-elle, les yeux pétillants.En: "I want to find inspiration for my next piece," she says, her eyes sparkling.Fr: Étienne, assis à la table, plisse les sourcils.En: Étienne, sitting at the table, furrows his eyebrows.Fr: "Sans plan?En: "Without a plan?Fr: C'est risqué," répond-il, habitué à organiser chaque moment de sa journée.En: That's risky," he replies, being used to organizing every moment of his day.Fr: "Et si nous partions pour Montmartre?"En: "What if we head to Montmartre?"Fr: propose Sophie, enthousiaste.En: suggests Sophie enthusiastically.Fr: "Les surprises sont les meilleures inspirations!"En: "Surprises are the best inspirations!"Fr: Camille hoche la tête avec un sourire.En: Camille nods with a smile.Fr: Malgré l'hésitation d'Étienne, les trois amis prennent le métro direction Montmartre.En: Despite Étienne's hesitation, the three friends take the metro towards Montmartre.Fr: L'air est frais, les feuilles d'automne craquent sous leurs pas, et l'odeur des marrons grillés emplit les ruelles pavées.En: The air is crisp, autumn leaves crunch under their feet, and the smell of roasted chestnuts fills the cobblestone alleys.Fr: Ils flânent autour de la Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, admirant la vue panoramique de Paris.En: They stroll around the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, admiring the panoramic view of Paris.Fr: "Ici, on pourrait faire un croquis," suggère Étienne, sortant son carnet.En: "Here, we could make a sketch," suggests Étienne, pulling out his notebook.Fr: Camille secoue la tête, l'incertitude dans le regard.En: Camille shakes her head, uncertainty in her eyes.Fr: Elle hésite, regardant les artistes de rue et les cafés animés.En: She hesitates, looking at the street artists and bustling cafés.Fr: Sophie attrape son bras.En: Sophie grabs her arm.Fr: "Laissons-nous guider par le hasard!"En: "Let's be guided by chance!"Fr: Bientôt, une petite boutique d'art attire l'attention de Camille.En: Soon, a small art shop catches Camille's attention.Fr: La vitrine déborde de matériaux uniques : papiers texturés, pinceaux anciens, et pigments rares.En: The display window overflows with unique materials: textured papers, antique brushes, and rare pigments.Fr: "Regardez ça!"En: "Look at that!"Fr: s'exclame Camille, tirant ses amis à l'intérieur.En: exclaims Camille, pulling her friends inside.Fr: Étienne soupire légèrement mais la suit tout de même.En: Étienne sighs slightly but follows nonetheless.Fr: À l'intérieur, le chaos créatif fascine Camille.En: Inside, the creative chaos fascinates Camille.Fr: Elle trouve de l'inspiration dans chaque coin, son esprit débordant d'idées nouvelles.En: She finds inspiration in every corner, her mind brimming with new ideas.Fr: Sophie sourit, voyant Camille s'émerveiller.En: Sophie smiles, seeing Camille in awe.Fr: Étienne, bien qu'un peu frustré par la déviation imprévue, admet enfin que parfois, la spontanéité a son charme.En: Étienne, though a bit frustrated by the unexpected detour, finally admits that sometimes, spontaneity has its charm.Fr: Après leur visite, ils se posent sur un banc.En: After their visit, they sit on a bench.Fr: Camille, les yeux brillants, remercie ses amis.En: Camille, her eyes shining, thanks her friends.Fr: Elle se sent revigorée, prête à commencer une nouvelle toile.En: She feels rejuvenated, ready to start a new canvas.Fr: "Je comprends maintenant," murmure Étienne, "il y a de la beauté dans l'inattendu."En: "I understand now," murmurs Étienne, "there's beauty in the unexpected."Fr: Sophie, heureuse, prend leurs mains.En: Sophie, happy, takes their hands.Fr: Montmartre leur a offert plus qu'une simple escapade : une leçon.En: Montmartre offered them more than just a simple getaway: a lesson.Fr: En partant, Camille sait que cette journée restera dans son cœur, une source d'inspiration infinie, et elle est prête à la partager à travers son art.En: As they leave, Camille knows that this day will remain in her heart, an infinite source of inspiration, and she is ready to share it through her art. Vocabulary Words:the neighborhood: le quartierthe desire: le désirthe inspiration: l'inspirationsparkling: pétillantsto furrow: plisserthe eyebrows: les sourcilsrisky: risquéthe autumn leaves: les feuilles d'automneto stroll: flânerthe panoramic view: la vue panoramiqueto sketch: faire un croquisthe uncertainty: l'incertitudethe street artist: l'artiste de rueto grab: attraperthe chance: le hasardthe art shop: la boutique d'artthe display window: la vitrinetextured: texturésthe antique brushes: les pinceaux anciensthe rare pigments: les pigments raresto exclaim: s'exclamerthe creative chaos: le chaos créatifbrimming: débordantto be in awe: s'émerveillerthe unexpected detour: la déviation imprévuethe spontaneity: la spontanéitécharm: le charmeto feel rejuvenated: se sentir revigoréeto murmur: murmurerunexpected: l'inattendu

"Arco" is a French animated science fantasy film written and directed by Ugo Bienvenu and produced by Natalie Portman. It stars Swann Arlaud, Alma Jodorowsky, Margot Ringard Oldra, Oscar Tresanini, Vincent Macaigne, Louis Garrel, William Lebghil, and Oxmo Puccino in the French version, with Will Ferrell, America Ferrera, Flea, Natalie Portman, Mark Ruffalo, and Andy Samberg in the English dubbed version. The film had its world premiere in the Special Screenings section of the 78th Cannes Film Festival earlier this year, where it received positive reviews. It would later go on to win the Cristal Award for Best Feature Film at the Annecy International Animation Film Festival. Bienvenu and Portman were kind enough to spend some time speaking with us about their work and experience making the film, which you can listen to below. Please be sure to check out the film, which is now playing in limited release before expanding wide in early 2026 from NEON. Thank you, and enjoy! Check out more on NextBestPicture.com Please subscribe on... Apple Podcasts - https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/negs-best-film-podcast/id1087678387?mt=2 Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/7IMIzpYehTqeUa1d9EC4jT YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWA7KiotcWmHiYYy6wJqwOw And be sure to help support us on Patreon for as little as $1 a month at https://www.patreon.com/NextBestPicture and listen to this podcast ad-free Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Scholar Marie Robin investigates military brothels in the French empire. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Dimitri and Khalid explore the life and philosophy of early 20th century French esotericist René Guénon, including: Guénon's philosophy of "Traditionalism", how it overlaps with and differs from "Perennialism", his mostly solid criticisms of Theosophy as a sus pseudo-tradition, his influence on the Italian fascist mystic Julius Evola, Guénon's (partially) salient critiques of "rationalism", capitalism, and the spiritual void of Western Civilization, intriguing overlaps between Marxist and Traditionalist critiques of modernity, his later embrace of Sufism and quasi-Third Worldist tendencies, the Guenonist-inspired thought of His Majesty King Charles, and more... For access to full-length premium SJ episodes, upcoming installments of DEMON FORCES, and the Grotto of Truth Discord, subscribe at https://patreon.com/subliminaljihad.

652. Part 1 of Kathleen DuVal's return to the podcast to talk about her book, Native Nations: A Millennium in North America. “Pulitzer Prize Winner - National Bestseller - A magisterial overview of a thousand years of Native American history (The New York Review of Books), from the rise of ancient cities more than a thousand years ago to fights for sovereignty that continue today. Winner of the Bancroft Prize, the Cundill History Prize, and the Mark Lynton History Prize. Long before the colonization of North America, Indigenous Americans built diverse civilizations and adapted to a changing world in ways that reverberated globally. And, as award-winning historian Kathleen DuVal vividly recounts, when Europeans did arrive, no civilization came to a halt because of a few wandering explorers, even when the strangers came well armed.” (Publisher's website), Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 221 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. Chad Adams. How to Walk in the Marsh. I stood behind the center console of my dad's flatboat, tucked closely against him, prouder than any seven-year-old boy could be, riding along while he drove in the darkness of an early cold November morning. We slowly maneuvered through the salty marshes of southern Louisiana in eager pursuit of my very first duck hunt.     As the blistering air seeped through the holes in my oversized camouflaged ski-mask, and the smell of the sputtering motor's exhaust made my nostrils flare, I worked a spotlight at my dad's command. The beam of light shined just over the head of our giddy black Labrador Retriever, past the bow of the boat, and onto the water in front of us. I was outright shivering, but not from the freezing weather. Instead, I was shaking from the icy adrenaline that ran through my veins and throughout all fifty-five pounds of me as I replayed in my head all the stories my dad told me leading up to this moment about the amazing experience of duck hunting. This week in Louisiana history. November 15, 1730. Gov. Perier and French defeated the Natchez Indians. This week in New Orleans history. The Central City Branch of the New Orleans Public Library opened in the Mahalia Jackson Childhood and Family Learning Center on November 15, 2010. This week in Louisiana. Louisiana Renaissance Festival Faire Grounds: 46468 River Rd, Hammond LA, 70401 2025 Theme Weekends Nov 1-2 All Hallows Weekend Nov 8-9 Pirate Weekend Nov 15-16 Celtic Weekend Nov 22-23 Wizards and Legends Nov 28-30 Viking Dec 6-7 Yuletide Market Also on Dec 6 and 7  Fireworks 9:45 AM to 5:00 PM Postcards from Louisiana. Doreen at Snug Harbor.  Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook. 

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The revocation of the Edict of Nantes led more than 200,000 Huguenots to flee France after 1685. Many settled close to the country's frontiers, where their leaders published apologetic texts arguing for their right to return to France and be recognized as French citizens. By framing their refugee experiences intentionally, even using the term "refugee" to describe their diaspora, Huguenots profoundly influenced Enlightenment debates on citizenship and religious tolerance.  Write to Return: Huguenot Refugees on the Frontiers of the French Enlightenment (McGill-Queen's, 2024) is a cultural history of these Huguenot apologetics in which Bryan Banks examines the work of four authors: Pierre Jurieu, Pierre Bayle, Antoine Court, and Jean-Paul Rabaut Saint-Étienne. Each author advanced his arguments using key ideas of the Enlightenment, appealing to reason to argue for freedom of conscience all while appealing to emotion in his descriptions of Huguenot victimhood. The authors' campaign succeeded. In 1789, France's revolutionary National Assembly granted repatriation to all expelled Huguenots, offering them citizenship regardless of place of birth or baptism, and even permitting them to reclaim ancestral lands.  International refugees played an overlooked role in shaping discourse around the nation and nationalism in the eighteenth century. Write to Return shows how early modern refugees could advocate for their interests, build international networks, and even craft a new collective identity. By presenting themselves as loyal citizens of France, Huguenots were at the forefront of constructing a French national identity. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Craig Troxel talks about how ruling elders can help men consider a call to pastoral ministry.A call to pastoral ministry has several parts, one is the internal sense of call, another is the recognition of the church, the actual call to a congregation or mission work. Ruling elders help shepherd men in both and in this podcast we discuss the early stages of recognizing a call, or even encouraging men to consider if they are called.Discussion centers around Charles Bridges, The Christian Ministry: With an Inquiry into the Causes of its Inefficiency, (Banner of Truth Trust). See especially Chapter VI, The Qualifications of the Christian Ministry, pp. 24-31.Craig quotes John Newton, "Beware, my friend, of mistaking the ready exercise of gifts for the exercise of grace." (Letter #5 - "On the Snares and Difficulties attending the Ministry of the Gospel") Works of John Newton, vol.1 (Banner of Truth Trust, 2015) p. 108. See also Newton's letter Marks of a Call to the Ministry.We highly recommend Craig's own book,A. Craig Troxel, With All Your Heart: Orienting Your Mind, Desires, and Will toward Christ, (Crossway, 2020).Craig's Recommended ReadingJohn Calvin, Institutes Of The Christian Religion, translated from the first French edition of 1541 by Robert White, Banner of Truth Trust. (Especially Chapter 17, The Christian Life)Campegius Vitringa, The Spiritual Life, trans. and ed. by Charles K. Tefler, Reformation Heritage Books. John Flavel, The Fountain of Life: A Display of Christ in His Essential and Mediatorial Glory, Vol. 1 of the Works of John Flavel, Banner of Truth Trust.John Flavel, The Method of Grace In the Gospel Redemption, Vol 2 of the Works of John Flavel, Banner of Truth Trust.

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

The version of the American Revolution many of us were taught was focussed on the ideals and principles of the revolution:  Independence, democracy, liberty guaranteed by enumerated rights.  And if we were taught about the actual conflict, we maybe heard of a few battles in New England and the mid-Atlantic– maybe there was a setback here and there.  But the whole thing was presented as basically inevitable:  Because of those ideals and principles, and maybe a dose of Providence (as some then thought as well.)     By focusing on the actual conflicts of the era, and the consequences thereof for the greatly divided populace of the Eastern Seaboard of North America in their new 6-part series for PBS, The American Revolution, Ken Burns and Sarah Botstein (Jazz, The Vietnam War, The US and the Holocaust) complicate all of this.  While paying proper attention to the motivating ideals, they delineate the role the desire for the lands of Native Americans played in the war, and they show how the conflicts moved–often via waterways, and usually internecine–from New England, to the Mid-Atlantic, to the South.  And throughout, victory was not just not preordained, but in fact very contingent on the actions both of some outstanding individuals such as Washington (and yes, Arnold), as well as the strategies and agendas of nations as diverse as the Cayuga and Oneida (and yes, The French).   You can watch The American Revolution on PBS starting November 16th.   Follow: @kenlburns on Instagram & @KenBurns on X @sarahbotstein on Instagram & @sbotstein on X @topdocspod on Instagram and X    The Presenting Sponsor of "Top Docs" is Netflix.

I've created a FREE guide with 7 cultural stories from France, designed to help you make real progress in French —not through boring drills, but through powerful, inspiring stories that immerse you in French culture.

Retrouvez l'émission du samedi 15 novembre 2025 en (presque) intégralité.

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/gender-studies

Send us a textThe Back in Time Brothers: High School Hits of the 70sGet ready to jump, get ready to sway! Join DJ Paulie and his brother Lou—The Back in Time Brothers—as heard on URL radio for a wild trip back to the 70s. We're diving deep into the High School Hits of the 70s, the tracks that became the soundtrack to growing up in the decade of lava lamps and Letterman jackets. Lace up your sneakers and crank the volume as we revisit the rock anthems that blasted out of Trans Ams, including Ted Nugent's guitar-fueled "Strangle Hold", Deep Purple's "Highway Star" (a badge of cool for teens who loved cars and guitars), and Head East's "Never Been Any Reason," often nicknamed the rock and roll national anthem.We've got the full rock spectrum, from the raw blues-driven rocker "Tush" by ZZ Top, to the ultimate cruising music, Fog Hat's "Slow Ride", all the way up to Edgar Winter Group's feel-good classic, "Free Ride". And when the lights dimmed at the gym? We've got the ultimate teenage heartbreak ballad, Nazareth's "Love Hurts," which filled high school proms.But we're more than just classic rock! The Back in Time Brothers bring the laughs with their infamous segments:Rock Talk: 70s Fads: Expert Todd Snyder deep-dives into the wonderfully weird world of 70s culture. We explore everything from the infamous Pet Rock (which sold over 1.5 million units for $3.95 a piece), to the mystical and pseudoscientific mood ring, and the bizarre cultural juggernaut of streaking (a competitive sport on college campuses). We'll also look at how Happy Days gave us the phrase “jump the shark” when The Fonz water-skied over one!Stupid Criminals: Tune in for a weekly lineup of losers, dimwitted schemes, and laughable mistakes. Hear about the woman busted for dressing in a hot dog costume and covering her neighbor's car in toilet paper, or the man who decided to sell marijuana to raise money to afford police academy.Random Facts: Lou and Paul share bizarre scientific and animal tidbits, like how one teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh billions of tons and why a bearcat smells like hot buttered popcorn!Bad Dates: Listen to real-life dating disasters, including a guy who threw the ends of French fries on the floor, another who immediately called his blind date "average looking", and a disastrous encounter involving a Bills-themed man cave and a perplexing "mommy kink".So, slip on those bell bottoms, adjust the leisure suit lapels, and get ready to be taken on a free ride. The Back in Time Brothers are bringing the sound and the laughs!Support the showThanks for listening. Join us each Monday at 1pm Central at www.urlradio.net and follow us on Facebook!

In this episode, Bryan and Josh dive deep into Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, the 2025 dark fantasy RPG from French studio Sandfall Interactive and published by Kepler Interactive. This is the first outing of director Guillaume Broche, formerly of Ubisoft, featuring a powerhouse voice cast including Jennifer English, Ben Starr, and Charlie Cox, and a wildly eclectic soundtrack by Lorien Testard and Alice Duport-Percier that spans classical to dubstep. If that wasn't enough to draw you in the premise of the game alone is one of the more intriguing in recent memory: For the last 67 years, the island of Lumière has endured the “Gommage,” a ritual in which an ethereal being known as the Paintress erases everyone older than a mysteriously dwindling number. Expedition 33 sets out to confront the paintress, them embark on an exploration of how art, death, and memory intertwine within the game's Belle Époque-inspired world.Bryan and Josh also unpack the game's richly layered writing and worldbuilding, noting how the prologue perfectly sets the tone and how the setting pulses with French cultural flair, even down to battling a mime in the opening minutes. Clair Obscur features a truly memorable cast, contributing to a story that's equal parts tragic and hopeful, and while the combat system's balance of dodge, parry, and unique “Pictos” and “Luminas” mechanics met the challenge of keeping combat snappy and engaging. However, at the end of it all, Clair Obscur's core themes of death and grief give it both its weight and its beauty, cementing its place as one of 2025's standout video game experiences.Notes: The impossible (true) stories behind the making of Clair Obscur Expedition 33The Ones Who Walk Away from OmelasClair Obscur: Expedition 33 | Lumière

Special movies reviews today!It's #56 and it's all Streisand movies.Barbra Streisand made 9 movies in the 70,s and we have already reviewed 3, (The Way we were 1973-For Pete's sake 1974-and A Star is Born 1976) So now you get our reviews of the remaining 6.1 (On a Clear Day 1970) Here rad director Vincent Minnelli (yes Liza's dad) gives us a weird musical about a woman with esp who can also make plants grow. Bob Newhart and Jack Nicholson are here along with a French guy and the racist ass cop from West Side Story. Babs sings her way into space at the end of this, and I'm extremely here for it.2 (The Owl and the Pussycat 1970) This one has a director that I really like Herbert Ross (Footloose, Goodbye Girl, the Turning Point, the Sunshine Boys, the Last of Shelia, and T.R. Baskin) giving us a zany movie that I love less than all those others. this movie is still good but for me Babs could be more of a Xanadu Muse, than an insensitive crack addict. 3 (What's Up Doc 1972) I might be getting this confused with the last film, and Maybe the “Muse” comment more applies here, I'm not sure cause it's been a minute. Also both of these films are a bit similar and Zany, I like this one better though and we might have Madeline Kahn and San Francisco to thank for that. people loved this when it came out and it pairs Babs with Ryan O'Neal which just may come up again soooooon.4 (Up the Sandbox 1972) Here Babs plays a rad woman and mother who says some of the coolest shit I've ever heard. Film ain't perfect but this was a treat for us. Watch this and then The Empire Strikes back, 2 great films from the same director.5 (Funny Lady 1975) Herbert Ross directing again in this messy sequel (ish) to 1968's Funny girl. Not the worst film but I guess it's not what people ordered at the time. I like That Cornelius from the planet of the apes is here, and that Roddy got to play an “out” character standing next to Babs.6 (Main Event 1979) This pairs Babs with Ryan O'Neil again. this one was a place in my heart cause I saw it as kid in the theater, so I'll always enjoy watching it. It's fun and light, it's got an issue or two and hey, why listen to us tell ya all about it. thank you film chums for listening.

To begin with, I'd like to draw your attention to the music in this primary source. It is called J. II. 9 (Turin Codex) also known as the Cyprus Codex, an anonymous manuscript created at the Nicosia court in the early 15th century during the Frankish rule of Cyprus under the Lusignan Dynasty. It is the only known source of Western music from the region and one of the rare exclusively French codices from that era. In other words, you're listening to Medieval Cypriot music that has been reconstructed by Dimitris Kountouras. The full album*, "ΜΟΥΣΙΚΗ ΑΠΟ ΤΗΝ ΑΥΛΗ ΤΩΝ ΛΟΥΖΙΝΙΑΝΩΝ: Ο ΚΩΔΙΚΑΣ ΤΗΣ ΚΥΠΡΟΥ" can be purchased here: https://exsilentio.org/  https://s22.gr/products/kountouras-kypros Wilbrand von Oldenburg, a nobleman from 12th-century Germany, pursued an ecclesiastical career and became a canon of Hildesheim in 1211. Connected to imperial and religious elites, he traveled to the Holy Land (1211–1213) for diplomacy and pilgrimage. His Itinerarium Terrae Sanctae is a key source on the political, military, and religious landscape of Lesser Armenia, Cyprus, and the Levant, highlighting the region's cultural diversity. He makes several observations on the affluence of the island's nobility and their conspicuous consumption. This primary source serves as a springboard into my next episode with Dr. Maria Parani on the Material Culture of Medieval Cyprus! *Φανή Αντωνέλου φωνή / Fanie Antonelou voice Φλώρα Παπαδοπούλου γοτθική άρπα / Flora Papadopoulos gothic harp Ηλέκτρα Μηλιάδου βιέλα / Elektra Miliadou fiddle Νίκος Βαρελάς κρουστά / Nikos Varelas percussion Δημήτρης Κούντουρας φλάουτο με ράμφος & διεύθυνση/ Dimitris Kountouras recorder & direction

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-studies

Psaumes 113:1-114:8

The revocation of the Edict of Nantes led more than 200,000 Huguenots to flee France after 1685. Many settled close to the country's frontiers, where their leaders published apologetic texts arguing for their right to return to France and be recognized as French citizens. By framing their refugee experiences intentionally, even using the term "refugee" to describe their diaspora, Huguenots profoundly influenced Enlightenment debates on citizenship and religious tolerance.  Write to Return: Huguenot Refugees on the Frontiers of the French Enlightenment (McGill-Queen's, 2024) is a cultural history of these Huguenot apologetics in which Bryan Banks examines the work of four authors: Pierre Jurieu, Pierre Bayle, Antoine Court, and Jean-Paul Rabaut Saint-Étienne. Each author advanced his arguments using key ideas of the Enlightenment, appealing to reason to argue for freedom of conscience all while appealing to emotion in his descriptions of Huguenot victimhood. The authors' campaign succeeded. In 1789, France's revolutionary National Assembly granted repatriation to all expelled Huguenots, offering them citizenship regardless of place of birth or baptism, and even permitting them to reclaim ancestral lands.  International refugees played an overlooked role in shaping discourse around the nation and nationalism in the eighteenth century. Write to Return shows how early modern refugees could advocate for their interests, build international networks, and even craft a new collective identity. By presenting themselves as loyal citizens of France, Huguenots were at the forefront of constructing a French national identity. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

The revocation of the Edict of Nantes led more than 200,000 Huguenots to flee France after 1685. Many settled close to the country's frontiers, where their leaders published apologetic texts arguing for their right to return to France and be recognized as French citizens. By framing their refugee experiences intentionally, even using the term "refugee" to describe their diaspora, Huguenots profoundly influenced Enlightenment debates on citizenship and religious tolerance.  Write to Return: Huguenot Refugees on the Frontiers of the French Enlightenment (McGill-Queen's, 2024) is a cultural history of these Huguenot apologetics in which Bryan Banks examines the work of four authors: Pierre Jurieu, Pierre Bayle, Antoine Court, and Jean-Paul Rabaut Saint-Étienne. Each author advanced his arguments using key ideas of the Enlightenment, appealing to reason to argue for freedom of conscience all while appealing to emotion in his descriptions of Huguenot victimhood. The authors' campaign succeeded. In 1789, France's revolutionary National Assembly granted repatriation to all expelled Huguenots, offering them citizenship regardless of place of birth or baptism, and even permitting them to reclaim ancestral lands.  International refugees played an overlooked role in shaping discourse around the nation and nationalism in the eighteenth century. Write to Return shows how early modern refugees could advocate for their interests, build international networks, and even craft a new collective identity. By presenting themselves as loyal citizens of France, Huguenots were at the forefront of constructing a French national identity. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hosted by David and Nycci Nellis. On today's show: · One of the hottest new restaurants in D.C. is K Street's Barbouzzard, French for “secret agent”. Inspired by the French Riviera, this place is just as hot. Barbouzzard's creator and principal managing partner, Nasr El Hage, and executive chef and partner – and one of our favorite guys in the world - Cedric Maupillier – join us; · Tysons Corner's Tower Club is a Northern Virginia legend sitting on the 17th Floor of a beltway landmark – the high-rise building that looks like a shopping bag. The Tower Club recently underwent a multi-million-dollar reinvention, including its menu. Vinny Mauriello, City Clubs' senior VP and national food and beverage director joins us with all the delicious details; · Caviar is undeniably one of the world's great delicacies. But what do you really know about it and its origins? Alboroz Tajik, owner of Northern Virginia's celebrated Merolin Caviar, is in with tastes and talk of his amazing offering of imperial osetra and imperial gold caviar; · And we're gonna need something good to wash down all that caviar. Fortunately, Anna Valero and Brian McGahey are in with cocktails from District Still and Supply – shh … a speakeasy … that will do the trick. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

French conversation for jet-setters: the verb CROIRE (to believe) au passé composé:j'ai crutu as cruil a crunous avons cruvous avez cruils ont cruBecome fluent at ConfidentConversationClub.com

Fluent Fiction - French: Lost Love and Found Peace at Mont-Saint-Michel Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/fr/episode/2025-11-15-23-34-02-fr Story Transcript:Fr: Sur la place de la cathédrale, l'animation de Mont-Saint-Michel était palpable ce jour de Toussaint.En: In the square of the cathedral, the animation of Mont-Saint-Michel was palpable this Toussaint day.Fr: Les feuilles mortes jonchaient le sol, rougeoyant sous la lumière faible d'un soleil d'automne.En: Dead leaves littered the ground, glowing red under the faint light of an autumn sun.Fr: Les touristes prenaient des photos, émerveillés par la beauté du lieu, tandis que le vent frais emportait les rires.En: Tourists took photos, amazed by the beauty of the place, while the fresh wind carried away the laughter.Fr: Étienne, posé au bord du tumulte, ressentait une tempête différente en lui.En: Étienne, sitting at the edge of the tumult, felt a different storm within himself.Fr: Les murmures de la mer approchante faisaient écho à ses souvenirs d'une époque révolue.En: The murmurs of the approaching sea echoed with his memories of a bygone era.Fr: Il était venu chercher quelque chose, une part de lui-même laissée ici, avec elle.En: He had come to find something, a part of himself left here, with her.Fr: Sophie.En: Sophie.Fr: Le nom résonna dans son esprit comme une douce mélodie.En: The name resonated in his mind like a sweet melody.Fr: Il se souvenait des marches qu'ils avaient gravies, main dans la main.En: He remembered the steps they had climbed, hand in hand.Fr: De la promesse du retour qu'ils s'étaient faite, dans la naïveté de leur jeunesse.En: The promise to return they had made, in the naivety of their youth.Fr: Mais Sophie était partie, laissant derrière elle un silence qu'Étienne n'avait jamais vraiment compris.En: But Sophie had left, leaving behind a silence that Étienne had never really understood.Fr: Aujourd'hui, il était là pour fermer le livre.En: Today, he was there to close the book.Fr: Alors qu'il contemplait la cathédrale majestueuse, une voix familière l'interrompit : « Étienne !En: As he contemplated the majestic cathedral, a familiar voice interrupted him: "Étienne!"Fr: » Luc, son ami d'enfance et témoin de ses émois, se tenait devant lui.En: Luc, his childhood friend and witness to his emotions, stood before him.Fr: Un sourire chaleureux aux lèvres, mais le regard empreint de sagesse et de secrets non dits.En: A warm smile on his lips, but his gaze filled with wisdom and untold secrets.Fr: Lorsqu'ils échangèrent des banalités, le cœur d'Étienne sombra sous le poids des années de questions.En: As they exchanged pleasantries, Étienne's heart sank under the weight of years of questions.Fr: Soudain, il osa : « Luc, que s'est-il passé avec Sophie ?En: Suddenly, he dared: "Luc, what happened with Sophie?Fr: Pourquoi est-elle partie ?En: Why did she leave?"Fr: » Luc hésita un instant, puis se tourna vers la mer qui s'avançait, imperturbable.En: Luc hesitated for a moment, then turned toward the sea that was advancing, unperturbed.Fr: « Elle t'aimait, Étienne.En: "She loved you, Étienne.Fr: Mais la vie était plus complexe qu'on ne le voyait.En: But life was more complex than we saw."Fr: » Il fouilla dans son sac et en sortit une enveloppe, jaunie par le temps.En: He rummaged in his bag and pulled out an envelope, yellowed by time.Fr: « Elle t'a laissé ceci.En: "She left you this.Fr: J'ai attendu longtemps pour te le donner.En: I've waited a long time to give it to you."Fr: » Surpris, Étienne prit la lettre d'une main tremblante.En: Surprised, Étienne took the letter with a trembling hand.Fr: L'écriture fluide de Sophie apparut sous ses yeux.En: Sophie's fluid handwriting appeared before his eyes.Fr: Il l'ouvrit là, dans l'ombre protectrice de la cathédrale.En: He opened it there, in the protective shadow of the cathedral.Fr: Les mots étaient doux, emplis de regrets et d'amour.En: The words were soft, filled with regrets and love.Fr: La cul-de-sac où il s'était perdu s'éclaira soudain.En: The dead end where he had lost himself suddenly became clear.Fr: Luc regardait, plein de compassion, alors qu'Étienne relisait plusieurs fois la lettre.En: Luc watched, full of compassion, as Étienne read the letter several times.Fr: Le poids de l'angoisse se dissipa doucement.En: The weight of anguish gently dissipated.Fr: Il leva le regard vers la mer, qui embrassait déjà l'îlot aux murailles.En: He raised his gaze toward the sea, which was already embracing the island with its walls.Fr: « Merci, Luc, » murmura-t-il.En: "Thank you, Luc," he murmured.Fr: En cet instant de marée montante, Étienne lâcha enfin tout ce qu'il avait retenu.En: In that moment of rising tide, Étienne finally let go of everything he had held onto.Fr: Il laissa ses souvenirs s'écouler avec les vagues, prêt à accueillir un nouveau souffle.En: He allowed his memories to flow with the waves, ready to welcome a new breath.Fr: En quittant la place, Étienne ressentit la paix qu'il cherchait depuis si longtemps.En: As he left the square, Étienne felt the peace he had been seeking for so long.Fr: Le Mont-Saint-Michel restait inchangé, témoin de son passé et architecte d'un avenir lumineusement incertain.En: Mont-Saint-Michel remained unchanged, witness to his past and architect of a luminously uncertain future.Fr: Une sérénité nouvelle l'accompagnait alors qu'il s'éloignait, les cloches de la cathédrale résonnant tel un hommage mystérieux aux amours perdus et retrouvés.En: A newfound serenity accompanied him as he walked away, the cathedral bells ringing like a mysterious homage to loves lost and found. Vocabulary Words:the animation: l'animationpalpable: palpablethe square: la placethe cathedral: la cathédralethe laughter: les riresthe storm: la tempêtethe echo: l'échobygone: révoluethe era: l'époquethe promise: la promessenaivety: naïvetéthe witness: le témointhe emotions: les émoisthe untold secrets: les secrets non ditsthe weight: le poidsto rummage: fouillerthe bag: le sacthe envelope: l'enveloppetrembling: tremblantethe handwriting: l'écriturethe shadow: l'ombrethe dead end: le cul-de-sacto dissipate: dissiperthe anguish: l'angoisseto embrace: embrasserthe barrier: les muraillesthe compassion: la compassionthe tide: la maréethe serenity: la sérénitéto accompany: accompagner

Fluent Fiction - French: A Symphony of Precision: Luc & Claire's Creative Triumph Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/fr/episode/2025-11-15-08-38-20-fr Story Transcript:Fr: Dans un petit village pittoresque où les feuilles des arbres dansaient en un kaléidoscope de couleurs automnales, Luc et Claire se préparaient pour le spectacle de talents de l'école.En: In a small picturesque village where the leaves of the trees danced in a kaleidoscope of autumn colors, Luc and Claire were preparing for the school's talent show.Fr: Luc, connu pour son imagination débordante mais aussi pour sa procrastination, avait hâte d'épater ses camarades.En: Luc, known for his overflowing imagination but also for his procrastination, was eager to impress his classmates.Fr: Claire, elle, réfléchissait déjà aux moindres détails, son carnet à la main.En: Claire, on the other hand, was already thinking about every little detail, notebook in hand.Fr: Un matin, alors que le vent frais soulevait les feuilles et faisait craquer le sol, Luc et Claire se rencontrèrent dans la salle de classe décorée de guirlandes en papier.En: One morning, as the fresh wind lifted the leaves and made the ground crackle, Luc and Claire met in the classroom decorated with paper garlands.Fr: "Luc, nous devons décider du numéro," commença Claire d'une voix sérieuse.En: "Luc, we need to decide on the act," began Claire in a serious voice.Fr: Luc, les mains dans les poches, répondit avec un sourire: "Ne t'inquiète pas, j'ai une idée!"En: Luc, hands in his pockets, responded with a smile: "Don't worry, I have an idea!"Fr: Claire fronça les sourcils, un peu inquiète.En: Claire frowned, a little worried.Fr: "Nous avons besoin d'un plan.En: "We need a plan.Fr: Le spectacle est dans une semaine!"En: The show is in a week!"Fr: dit-elle en tapotant son carnet.En: she said, tapping her notebook.Fr: Luc haussa les épaules: "Nous avons le temps.En: Luc shrugged: "We have time.Fr: L'improvisation donnera quelque chose de magique, tu verras."En: Improvisation will create something magical, you'll see."Fr: Les jours passèrent et l'angoisse de Claire grandissait.En: The days passed, and Claire's anxiety grew.Fr: Mais Luc continuait d'affirmer que son esprit créatif suffirait.En: But Luc continued to insist that his creative mind would suffice.Fr: Finalement, la veille du spectacle, Claire insista pour une réunion d'urgence.En: Finally, on the eve of the show, Claire insisted on an emergency meeting.Fr: "Luc, nous devons combiner nos forces," déclara-t-elle en lui tendant une feuille.En: "Luc, we need to combine our strengths," she declared, handing him a sheet.Fr: Luc, prenant conscience de la situation, accepta finalement de suivre son plan.En: Luc, realizing the situation, finally agreed to follow her plan.Fr: Ensemble, ils décidèrent de faire un numéro de mime et de peinture en direct.En: Together, they decided to do a mime and live painting act.Fr: Claire planifierait chaque mouvement, et Luc lui apporterait sa touche spontanée avec des couleurs éclatantes.En: Claire would plan each movement, and Luc would add his spontaneous touch with bright colors.Fr: Le grand jour arriva.En: The big day arrived.Fr: L'auditorium était plein, les parents et les élèves impatients.En: The auditorium was full, parents and students were eager.Fr: Luc était nerveux, mais Claire était à ses côtés, son sourire rassurant.En: Luc was nervous, but Claire was by his side, her reassuring smile.Fr: Quand leur tour arriva, ils montèrent sur scène.En: When their turn came, they went on stage.Fr: Pendant que Claire mimait gracieusement, Luc appliquait la peinture avec un enthousiasme inattendu.En: While Claire gracefully mimed, Luc applied the paint with unexpected enthusiasm.Fr: Le public était silencieux.En: The audience was silent.Fr: Puis, petit à petit, des sourires apparurent, suivis de rires et d'applaudissements.En: Then, little by little, smiles appeared, followed by laughter and applause.Fr: Leur performance était une symphonie de précision et de créativité.En: Their performance was a symphony of precision and creativity.Fr: Luc et Claire avaient réussi à captiver tout le monde.En: Luc and Claire had managed to captivate everyone.Fr: Après le spectacle, Luc se tourna vers Claire, reconnaissant.En: After the show, Luc turned to Claire, grateful.Fr: "Merci, Claire.En: "Thank you, Claire.Fr: Grâce à toi, j'ai appris que planifier n'était pas l'ennemi de la créativité."En: Thanks to you, I learned that planning wasn't the enemy of creativity."Fr: Claire acquiesça, son visage radieux.En: Claire nodded, her face radiant.Fr: "Et moi, j'ai découvert que la spontanéité pouvait transformer un simple plan en quelque chose d'extraordinaire."En: "And I discovered that spontaneity could transform a simple plan into something extraordinary."Fr: Dans ce village uni par la magie de l'automne, Luc et Claire avaient non seulement triomphé sur scène, mais aussi grandi ensemble, mélangeant organisation et créativité dans une danse harmonieuse.En: In this village united by the magic of autumn, Luc and Claire had not only triumphed on stage but also grown together, mixing organization and creativity in a harmonious dance. Vocabulary Words:the village: le villagepicturesque: pittoresquethe leaves: les feuillesthe talent show: le spectacle de talentsoverflowing: débordantethe procrastination: la procrastinationto impress: épaterthe detail: le détailthe notebook: le carnetto crackle: craquerthe paper garlands: les guirlandes en papierthe act: le numéroto frown: froncer les sourcilsto shrug: hausser les épaulesthe anxiety: l'angoissethe eve: la veilleto insist: insisterthe emergency meeting: la réunion d'urgencethe sheet: la feuillethe mime: le mimespontaneous: spontanéebright colors: des couleurs éclatantesthe auditorium: l'auditoriumnervous: nerveuxreassuring: rassurantto mime: mimerenthusiasm: l'enthousiasmethe silence: le silencethe laughter: les riresto captivate: captiver

The revocation of the Edict of Nantes led more than 200,000 Huguenots to flee France after 1685. Many settled close to the country's frontiers, where their leaders published apologetic texts arguing for their right to return to France and be recognized as French citizens. By framing their refugee experiences intentionally, even using the term "refugee" to describe their diaspora, Huguenots profoundly influenced Enlightenment debates on citizenship and religious tolerance.  Write to Return: Huguenot Refugees on the Frontiers of the French Enlightenment (McGill-Queen's, 2024) is a cultural history of these Huguenot apologetics in which Bryan Banks examines the work of four authors: Pierre Jurieu, Pierre Bayle, Antoine Court, and Jean-Paul Rabaut Saint-Étienne. Each author advanced his arguments using key ideas of the Enlightenment, appealing to reason to argue for freedom of conscience all while appealing to emotion in his descriptions of Huguenot victimhood. The authors' campaign succeeded. In 1789, France's revolutionary National Assembly granted repatriation to all expelled Huguenots, offering them citizenship regardless of place of birth or baptism, and even permitting them to reclaim ancestral lands.  International refugees played an overlooked role in shaping discourse around the nation and nationalism in the eighteenth century. Write to Return shows how early modern refugees could advocate for their interests, build international networks, and even craft a new collective identity. By presenting themselves as loyal citizens of France, Huguenots were at the forefront of constructing a French national identity. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/french-studies

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 1 The Summer of '77 Changed My Life. Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Way back in 1977, I was a naive 18-year-old. Summer was here and I wanted to spend it having fun. I was going to start college in the fall and luckily, didn't have to work. Mom and Dad were fortunate and made good money. He was the VP of Advertising and Marketing for a major energy company and Mom was actually a successful author. I had a generous allowance and a car (a white '73 BMW) It had been Dad's, and he gave it to me at graduation. I guess I should tell you about myself. I was a blonde-haired, skinny white boy with blue eyes and a big dick. Not that I'd done anything with it. It was just genetics. I knew I was bigger than my friends, but none of the girls I knew were aware of that and I was too shy to advertise it. Hell, I wasn't even sure what to do with it. My first experiments with jacking off were surprising and yet disappointing. I wanted a woman. But as I said, I was painfully shy around the females of the species. My best friend throughout school had been Rick Bateman. Rick had joined the Navy after graduating, and was off at boot camp. Well, one day his Mom called. She said that with Rick gone, she needed help with a few things involving the pool and asked if I would come over. My Mom of course said yes without even asking me. "Todd, go on over to Olivia Bateman's and give her a hand with her pool." I rang the doorbell and she let me in. "Thank you for coming over Todd! I was hoping you weren't too busy." "Not at all Mrs. Bateman," I replied. "Just listening to albums." "That's nice, Rick likes the Eagles. Do you?" "Oh yeah! They're awesome!" She led me out into the back yard, Like most people in our neighborhood, she had a pool. "With Rick around, I never hired a pool service, but now; I'm here alone, and I would rather hire the maintenance done." She gestured at the pool. Since Rick had been gone, it had accumulated a layer of leaves. "No problem," I said. I'll take care of it." She went inside and I set to work. Amazingly it wasn't too bad. I was finishing up when I heard her come outside again. Now their pool was inside a privacy fence but when I turned around I was surprised. She was wearing a white bathrobe. Outside. In June. Looking back I can say Mrs. Bateman was about 5'7", 130 to 140 pounds, and very curvy. Her tits had to be in the double to triple D range. Her wavy dark brown hair was worn most often loose and reached her shoulders. Of course, although I acknowledged her as attractive for a middle-aged woman, she was forty-one years old, but I hadn't really thought of her in a sexual way. I'd known her and Rick for twelve years. Her husband had passed away about six years earlier from cancer. As I stared she dropped the robe onto a chaise. She was completely naked. She slowly walked over to the pool and down the steps. She finally turned to face me when she was waist-deep. "I just love having a pool!" she said smiling. "And I hate the idea of paying someone to tend to it. Do you think you could do it for me, Todd?" "Umm; I guess so." I automatically answered. "Wonderful!" She turned over and floated on her back, slowly going the length of the pool. She turned and swam back then faced me again. "Well, Todd?" "Huh?" I stared at her big tits as they floated in full view. "Are you coming in?" "Uh;" "Todd, when a woman gets naked and invites you to skinny dip with her; you really should. Wouldn't you rather touch these than just stare at them?" she said as she cupped her breasts. Okay, as I said earlier, I was awkward and nervous around girls and not experienced or confident. But the offer finally overcame my shyness and I quickly stripped and dove in. Now the view of her big breasts had aroused me somewhat, but my nervousness had prevented a full-blown hard-on. I suddenly found myself in front of her and she slipped her arms around me and pulled me close. She kissed me and I felt her breasts pressing into me. I felt my erection growing. She did too; and reached down to grasp the thick rod. No one had ever done that. I almost came right then. But she was experienced enough to realize how careful she had to be. She smiled and released me after a moment. "My, you are blessed, aren't you, Todd? Why aren't the girls all over you?" I blushed. "I...uh;" "Oh? Really? You're still a virgin? Well, that won't do. That won't do at all. Here," she patted the edge of the pool, "sit up here. I want to visit Mr. Todd for a while" As I sat on the pool edge she spread my legs wide, then toyed and stroked my cock gently while smiling at me. "Such a nice, big cock." she said. Then she kissed it, licked it up and down, and finally slipped it into her mouth. She sucked on it as she stroked it. Her grip was firm. I reclined back and rested on my elbows. In no time, I knew I was going to cum. I tried to warn her but she ignored me and I blew my load into her mouth. Mrs. Bateman didn't miss a beat and continued to swallow it all as she stroked my jerking cock. I was stunned. I didn't know that was a thing. I had no idea a woman would do that. Of course, all I knew was that:  you touched a girl, she got wet, you got hard, you stuck it in, thrust until you came. Period. I truly knew no more than that. I had a lot to learn. Mrs. Bateman finally finished and smiled at me. She continued to play with my cock. "What? Did that surprise you, Todd?" "Yeah; you just;" "Swallowed your cum," she said matter-of-factly. "Some women like to. Some don't. I assume no one ever did that for you before." I shook my head. "Well, I like to. Especially with young guys. Otherwise, you might not last long once we start fucking." My eyes popped. "Oh yes! I intend to fuck you, Todd. What do you think about that? I intend to fuck you today, and if you're good enough, all summer long." She took my hands and pulled me into the pool with her. She kissed me again and again, slowly teaching me to do it right. I squeezed her tits and she guided me to be gentle and allowed me to kiss and suck on them. See I loved big tits. Always have. My girlfriends had laughed at my infatuation with big knockers, and two of my slutty classmates had let me see and touch them. One had let me kiss and suck a bit. She might have been a C cup at best. These big, beautiful things were amazing! They were huge, soft, round and firm all at the same time. Her areola were large tan ovals and her nipples were thick stubs. I squeezed, kissed, sucked and played with them as she smiled and giggled. "Boys! Every one of you are titty-crazy! Come sit on the 3rd step up. I'll sit below you. Now wrap your arms around me and let my tits know how much you like them" I was giddy with enthusiasm and soon I had her nipples poking out firmly. " You just can't get enough of my big titties huh? Well go on, enjoy yourself!" She said and laughed, as she leaned back against my chest. But a minute later she spun around to face me, kneeling, and pulled my face to hers and kissed me again. This time she slipped her tongue into my mouth. My last girlfriend had allowed only a few French kisses and this was thrilling. Mrs. Bateman also began to fondle my turgid cock again, and when I was good and stiff, she climbed up the steps from the pool and lay on the padded double chaise lounge. She spread her legs and toyed with her pussy. I followed and as I mounted her, she took my cock and guided me into her. She was wet and warm and it felt fantastic. She was still holding my rather thick cock and coached me to use short strokes in and out until I could fit deep inside of her. "Oh god, Todd! That's it; nice and slow. God, you're so big! Oh, that feels so good! Yes, yes; that's it; oh so good, oh so good!" We fucked nice and slow for a few minutes and then I warned her I was cumming again. She laughed and grabbed my hips and held me deep. "Go ahead Todd, cum in me! Give it to me!" I couldn't hold back and came, emptying my load deep inside of her. "God! Yes! That feels so good!" she moaned. When I had finished, I pulled out and collapsed onto the chaise. Mrs. Bateman began to play with her pussy and the flood of cum, thrusting her fingers in deep and rubbing it all over her pussy. "Not bad;" she said. "A nice big cock, lots of cum; but you need training and practice. If you keep quiet about it; this is going to be an amazing summer." Mrs. Bateman and I had sex again before she sent me home. I was fortunate that my parents were too busy and disinterested to notice my shit-eating grin. The next day Mrs. Bateman "hired" me to help her with her rental properties. Mom and Dad bought it and thereafter, my daily disappearances were ignored.     I would arrive at her home and we would fuck immediately. This could be in any room of the house or at the pool. We fucked in the living room, bedroom, kitchen, guest rooms, even Rick's room, with the Eagles latest album playing on the stereo.  One day she led me into the garage and I fucked her across the hood of her '73 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. She was wearing a nice skirt and shiny satin blouse, and as we kissed and groped, I found she was wearing no panties and was soaking wet. As I played with her pussy, she opened her blouse and lifted her braless tits out. I bent her over the hood and took her from behind as she shouted encouragement at me. After a bit, she pushed me away and rolled onto her back with her hips on the fender and her legs in the air. As I fucked her, she played with her tits and moaned. When we finished, I had to back the car out and wash it. Oh and she insisted that I always call her either Mrs. Bateman, Ma'am, or Mistress. Never Olivia or any affectionate nickname. I understand now that it was to keep me from becoming too casual in public. But at the time it was also fun. I would step up behind her in the living room and reach around to cup her huge tits. Nibbling on her neck I would whisper. "God, Mrs. Bateman you are so sexy! I just can't help myself. I want to fuck you so bad!" "Oh Todd," she would reply, "if you insist." She would bend over the sofa and I would lift her skirt and finger her pussy before slipping my cock into her wet folds and snug, warm depths. "Oh Mrs. Bateman, that feels so good!" I would moan. "You feel good too Todd. such a big thick cock!" Then after pumping into her cunt for a while. "Oh Mrs. Bateman, I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum Mrs. Bateman!" Sometimes she would let me cum inside her, sometimes she would turn and suck me off. Once she didn't turn fast enough and I sprayed my load all over her face and the front of her dress. I expected her to be angry but she simply smiled. "I'm sorry Mrs. Bateman!" "That's okay, it happens," she said as she wiped the cum from her face and sucked on her fingers. "But this dress; come help me change." This went on almost daily for three full weeks. I was coming home tired and my cock was sore, but I was thrilled. I mean this woman wanted a lot of sex! We were fucking at least three times a day! I learned to be a good fuck, of course, but more than that, she taught me to be a great kisser, a skilled cunnilinguist, and an attentive lover. I learned foreplay, physical and mental, and to focus on pleasing her, knowing that the journey to her orgasm was fun and pleasing to me and that my own orgasm was always just minutes after hers. It was thrilling to feel her pussy squeezing my cock as she came. That, coupled with her vocalizations (be they cries of pleasure, squeals of delight, or shouts of ecstasy) always made me cum. And beyond all that, she was paying me cash every Friday to keep up the illusion that I had a legitimate job. I thought I was in heaven. Man, was I wrong. Overnighters. July 1st was on Friday. Mom and Dad had wanted to go on vacation that week and the next. I didn't, of course and Mrs. Bateman came up with the ruse that one of her renters was moving and we had to clean the place, paint, and prep it for the next renter that week. Mom was upset, but Dad said it was a good experience;  and I was left behind. I wanted to spend the night at her home but figured Mom would call me nightly to check on me. Mrs. Bateman instead came over and spent the night in my bed Thursday night. We made love for what seemed like hours and my bed was soaked. She simply threw a towel over the wetness and went to sleep. This was the first time in my life that I had a woman sleep with me. I mean she went to sleep in my arms. I discovered that amazing feeling of a soft, sensual body pressed against mine. The next morning I woke up with the typical morning woodie but she wasn't interested until she'd had a chance to wake up and get some coffee. We did fool around elsewhere in the house, even going sixty-nine across my parent's bed. Then she said she had some things to do and told me to come over at four with an overnight bag. Discrete with Diane. When I arrived, there was another car in her driveway. A nice cream colored Mercedes 450SLC. A convertible with the heart of a sports car. When I went in, using the side door for appearance sake as she always insisted, I found Mrs. Bateman sitting in the living room with another woman. Mrs. Bateman was in her favorite wing chair, attired in a red skirt and white blouse. She waved me in. "Ah, here he is," she said. "Todd this is Diane, Diane, Todd," she made the introductions. Diane stood and sized me up. She was tall, in her heels she matched my 5'11". Her hair was blonde and she was a bit more slender than Mrs. Bateman with smaller tits. She was tanned and her sleeveless dress was white with a deep V front and a fully pleated skirt. As she stepped closer I couldn't help but glance at her cleavage. Diane traced the V with one finger and smiled. The other hand she placed on my cheek. To my surprise she kissed me. A nice deep, long kiss. A second kiss followed and I felt her hand slide down to my crotch where it squeezed my growing cock. As she stepped back, she grinned. "Oh yes, he'll do nicely." She kissed me again, this time with more passion. My hands found her waist and slid up her back. I had no idea why this strange woman was doing this but damn, I wasn't going to turn it down. She broke the kiss and walked away. Picking up her purse and a small bag, she went up the stairs. I watched her long legs in that swishing skirt and stood there grinning. Finally, as she disappeared from view the enchantment was broken. Mrs. Bateman stood and came over, wrapping her arms around me. "What's going on?" I asked. "Oh Todd, it's quite simple. You are going to go up to the guest room and fuck her brains out. The same way you fuck me." "What?" "Yes, she's waiting to fuck you. So go fuck her. Give her what she wants, any way she wants, for as long as she wants. Be polite and patient and above all, ask no questions!" "She wants to have sex with me?" I asked incredulously. "Yes, don't look so shocked! Look, if she met you somewhere else and hit on you, suggested having sex, wouldn't you do it?" "Umm; Well before you started fucking me, yeah. But now that we're fucking.;" Mrs. Bateman smiled, "And if you want to keep fucking me, you'll go up there and please her, like I know you can. Think of it as practice." She swatted my ass and pointed to the stairs. "Go." I knocked on the door but it was slightly ajar. I went in and closed it behind me. Diane was standing at the foot of the bed. With barely a sound, the dress slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor around her ankles. She paused a moment to let me gaze at her naked body. She was nicely tanned except for the white skin of her bikini area. The stark tan lines were strangely erotic, obviously she tanned in a small string bikini. Her tits were about a C cup and her areola large and round with little pink nipples. Her waist was slim, and her hips round and firm. She was proud of her body and liked showing it off it seemed. "Your turn," she said. I stripped and as my growing cock was freed, she grinned broadly. She climbed onto the bed and uncrossed her legs, revealing a pussy covered in short, sandy straight hair. "I'm told you have a talented tongue; Show me." I started with kisses on her ankles and slowly moved up each leg to her knees and then up her inner thighs. By the time I reached her pussy she was gasping and breathing rapidly. I could smell her arousal and she was already quite wet, beads of fluid lined her inner lips and she tasted sweet. I did my best to focus on pleasing her as Mrs. Bateman had taught me. Soon her hips were rocking and her hands were squeezing her breasts. A cry of ecstasy and a gush of juices confirmed her orgasm. I lapped up the tasty wetness and looked up at her. "Oh god!" she panted. "Fuck me, fuck me now!" I slid my knob against her wet slit and pushed it in. She was so wet it slid in easily. A few thrusts and I was all the way in. "Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" she panted. I held it deep and kissed her, then she grabbed my head and stared deep into my eyes. "Fuck me!" I started thrusting in and out and she moaned and groaned in pleasure. Soon I rose to my elbows and picked up the pace. Her pussy was making wet squishy sounds and her tits were bouncing. I couldn't last and came, pumping my load in her. She gasped. "Oh god! Oh god no! Not yet! Don't stop! Oh no!"     I sat up to catch my breath and as I pulled out I could see the cum start to flow out of her pussy. I found it weirdly erotic. Very erotic. Mrs. Bateman usually either played with it, ignored it, or wiped it up with tissues. I'd never actually watched it. I reached down and toyed with it, running my fingers through it and spreading it over her pussy. Diane was watching too. I spread a glob over her clit and she twitched and gasped. I slipped two fingers inside of her and she moaned. I stroked the inside of her pussy behind her clit and she bit her lip and groaned. I kept it up and she was soon gasping and trembling. She started pinching her nipples as I stroked faster and faster. Cum was everywhere. Then she threw her head back and cried out, "Oh Fuck! Gah!" My cock was hard again and I shoved it in, pushing all the way in one, hard, violent thrust. "Ah! Oh Fuck!" she screamed. I could feel her pussy spasming around my cock, squeezing and releasing over and over again. Diane grabbed my hand and placed it over her mouth and screamed again and again. I started thrusting. Slowly pulling out until only my knob was inside then thrusting hard, slamming our bodies together. Each time, she screamed into my hand. I began thrusting faster and she started sucking my cum drenched fingers. Soon I was up on my knees, gripping her legs and pounding her furiously. Diane was gasping, and moaning, and weeping as she grabbed and pulled on the sheets. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I couldn't stop. I was overcome with desire, and passion, and need. I have no idea how long I fucked like that, but finally felt the release coming and came again. I finished and pulled out, watching again the flow of cum from her reddened pussy. At some point Diane had stopped being coherent and was limp with her eyes rolled back and simply lay there moaning and humming. I lay next to her and cradled her head. After a minute, her eyes focused on me and she smiled. I kissed her and pushed the hair from her face. I laid down and she rolled onto her side next to me. She lifted one leg up and over me and I could feel the wetness on my hip. After a bit I dozed off. I was awakened by Diane, stirring and sitting up. She smiled at me and went into the bathroom. When she came out she seemed more composed and sat next to me. She gently toyed with my flaccid cock. "That; That was amazing." "Thank you." I softly replied. "I; I, uh; I came, uh; I came a lot. I've never; had that happen, that intense, that; long. God, a part of me wants to do it again. But I don't think I could take another session like that." "So we take it easy this time," I said. My cock was growing as she played with it. Diane smiled and straddled me. We kissed and I caressed her hips and back as she rubbed her pussy against my cock. She reached down and guided it into her pussy, and slowly slid down onto it. I let her ride me at her pace. She liked it slow and I caressed her thighs, hips, waist and breasts as she rose and fell. The slow pace was nice, I relaxed and studied her, my mind wandering. Who was she? I couldn't recall exactly where I'd seen her, yet she did seem familiar. She was admittedly sexy, yet mature. I guessed she was in her late thirties at the most. I felt like she was a trophy wife, she had that air about her. The realization that I was probably fucking somebody's wife didn't upset me. If anything it made me feel special. Damn lucky in fact. And if she wanted to meet again? I knew I wouldn't turn it down. Mrs. Bateman suddenly leapt into my mind. What was going on? Why had she allowed me to fuck this woman? How did they know each other? Was she indeed going to continue to fuck me after this? And if I could fuck only one of them, which would it be? Diane whoever-she-was was amazing, yet Mrs. Bateman had those huge tits and loved to suck my cock... I was jerked from my musings as Diane leaned down and kissed me. Her tits pressed into my chest. "God dammit Todd! I can't stand it! Fuck me again, fuck me hard and make me cum!" I grabbed her hips and started thrusting in and out. Faster and faster as she rocked forward on her knees. Her tits were in my face and I began to suck one. I squeezed her ass and pounded her pussy. Diane screamed into the pillow a minute later. "God! Yes! Ah!" I wanted to finish, to cum again, but I wasn't sure how much more it might take. Diane ended it for me, she slid down hard onto my cock and squeezed me tightly with her arms, legs and pussy. She held me tightly as she quivered for a minute or two, then slowly relaxed. She stayed on top and my cock relaxed inside of her. Finally she rose up and looked in my face. "God, you are so good!" she said and kissed me. "I, I have got to stop," she muttered. "I don't want to...but I'm so sore." Slowly she sat up and rolled off of me. My cock plopped wetly from her pussy. She bent and kissed me again. "Damn, you're a good lover. But I need time to heal after a fucking like this." She admitted. She stumbled into the bathroom, taking her dress with her. I lay there feeling awesomely happy. After a while Diane came out of the bathroom. She was dressed and composed. Only her smile gave anything away. I sat up. "Will I see you again?" I asked. "Look, if you do see me, anywhere except in this room, you must ignore me. Understand?" "Yes, I get it. But you are coming back then?" She paused, then grinned, "Oh dammit Todd, that was the best sex I've ever had! Of course I'm coming back!" She kissed me again and left the room. I went to the bathroom. When I came out, Mrs. Bateman was there. She smiled at me and then looked at the wet, crumpled sheets. She reached out and wiped up some of the wetness. Holding her hand to her face she inhaled deeply and grinned. "I love the smell of hot, wet sex," she said. "Call me sick if you want, but it turns me on.' She walked over to me and gently caressed my cock. "She didn't break you, and it sounded like you pleased her. I'm proud of you Todd. I knew you'd be a great fuck." She pointed to an envelope on the nightstand. "That's yours." Curious, I opened it. Inside were twenty dollar bills, I quickly counted them. "Two hundred bucks?" "Yes, that's all yours." To be continued. Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog, for Literotica

Why did a group of teenage girls kill a man in a downtown Toronto parkette? Marjorie Nicolaou reads Swarm.  About AMIAMI is a not-for-profit media company that entertains, informs and empowers Canadians who are blind or partially sighted. Operating three broadcast services, AMI-tv and AMI-audio in English and AMI-télé in French, AMI's vision is to establish and support a voice for Canadians with disabilities, representing their interests, concerns and values through inclusion, representation, accessible media, reflection, representation and portrayal.Find more great AMI Original Content on AMI+Learn more at AMI.caConnect with Accessible Media Inc. online:X /Twitter @AccessibleMediaInstagram @AccessibleMediaInc / @AMI-audioFacebook at @AccessibleMediaIncTikTok @AccessibleMediaIncEmail feedback@ami.ca Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Conventional wisdom always said, it's never a bad idea to buy property. So what changed? In addition to small sizes and shoddy quality, condo sellers now have to contend with units being worth less than their mortgages.Lori Wilson reads No One Wants to Buy a Condo  About AMIAMI is a not-for-profit media company that entertains, informs and empowers Canadians who are blind or partially sighted. Operating three broadcast services, AMI-tv and AMI-audio in English and AMI-télé in French, AMI's vision is to establish and support a voice for Canadians with disabilities, representing their interests, concerns and values through inclusion, representation, accessible media, reflection, representation and portrayal.Find more great AMI Original Content on AMI+Learn more at AMI.caConnect with Accessible Media Inc. online:X /Twitter @AccessibleMediaInstagram @AccessibleMediaInc / @AMI-audioFacebook at @AccessibleMediaIncTikTok @AccessibleMediaIncEmail feedback@ami.ca Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Invités : - Claire Koc, journaliste et auteur de «Le paradis français» aux éditions du Cerf. - Charlotte d'Ornellas, journaliste au JDD - Eliott Mamane, chroniqueur politique Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

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

This week on It's Happening: Snooki and Joey chat beauty routines, Botox, birthdays, and filming plans. Joey recaps his chic Paris getaway and culinary adventures, while Snooki contemplates finding a friend for Wiggles. They dive into influencer life, weddings, BravoCon buzz, and reality TV gossip. Wanna join the party? Text or leave a voicemail for your favorite messy mawmas at (646) 580-5251 and you might just get featured next week! Subscribe and Watch on YouTube This episode is sponsored by: Chef iQ - Promo code: SNOOKI Revolve - Promo code: SNOOKI Willie's Remedy - Promo code: SNOOKI Connect with It's Happening: Instagram | TikTok | Snooki and Joey on Cameo

Greg Jenner is joined in 19th-century France by historian Professor Olivette Otele and comedian Celya AB to learn about acclaimed novelist Alexandre Dumas.Alexandre was born to an innkeeper's daughter and a legendary Black general who fought for Napoleon. After his father's death the family grew up in rural poverty, but after a visit to Paris as a teenager, Dumas fell in love with the city and its theatre. Using his father's connections he found a job there and was soon a successful playwright, before turning his attention to novels. He was a prolific author, writing such blockbusters as The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Christo. But amidst the writing, Dumas also found plenty of time for romantic dalliances, political entanglements, and global travel. This episode explores his extraordinary life and the incredible works of literature he created, set against the turbulent background of French politics in the years after the Napoleonic wars.This is a radio edit of the original podcast episode. For the full-length version, please look further back in the feed.Hosted by: Greg Jenner Research by: Emma Bentley Written by: Emmie Rose Price-Goodfellow, Emma Nagouse, and Greg Jenner Produced by: Emmie Rose Price-Goodfellow and Greg Jenner Audio Producer: Steve Hankey Production Coordinator: Gill Huggett Senior Producer: Emma Nagouse Executive Editor: Philip Sellars

On fait le point ensemble sur la disparition inquiétante de la navigatrice française Marie Descoub.We take stock together of the worrying disappearance of the French sailor Marie Descoub.Alors voilà, Marie qui a 28 ans et son coéquipier américain Nathan Perrins ont disparu le 5 novembre.So, Marie, who is 28, and her American teammate Nathan Perrins disappeared on November 5th.Ils étaient en train de convoyer un voilier du Maine jusqu'à Porto Rico.They were in the process of conveying a sailboat from Maine to Puerto Rico.La question c'est : que s'est-il passé ?The question is: what happened?Premièrement, les circonstances.Firstly, the circumstances.Leur voilier, le SV Liona, a cessé d'émettre le 5 novembre.Their sailboat, the SV Liona, stopped transmitting on November 5th.À ce moment-là, il n'était plus qu'à environ 16 heures de leur but.At that time, they were only about 16 hours from their destination.Le seul souci signalé par le capitaine, c'était un manque de carburant.The only problem reported by the captain was a lack of fuel.Deuxièmement, les recherches.Secondly, the search.Bien sûr, les garde-côtes américains et les équipes des Bermudes se sont mobilisés, mais pour l'instant, ça n'a rien donné.Of course, the American Coast Guard and the Bermuda teams mobilized, but for now, it hasn't yielded anything.Pourtant, les proches, eux, ils gardent espoir.Yet, their loved ones, they are holding onto hope.Ils se disent que ça pourrait juste être un problème de communication.They are telling themselves that it could just be a communication problem.Le sort des deux marins reste donc incertain.The fate of the two sailors therefore remains uncertain. Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Alpha is the third film from the brilliant French filmmaker, Julia Ducournau, following on from her titanic debut, Raw, and her raw follow-up, Titane (which won the Palme D'Or, no less!). A tale of an unusual epidemic and generational trauma, there's much going on above and below the surface, which we get into in this interview special, as Jamie Graham sits down on Zoom with Ducournau and the actor Tahar Rahim, who plays the title character's drug-addicted uncle. It's a great interview, and if you fancy going to see Alpha after listening to this, it's out now in cinemas across the UK. Enjoy.

Welcome to episode 281 of Growers Daily! We cover: our very first Growers Daily "best of" or roundup video in which we talk all things tools for your farm! We are a Non-Profit! 

"Nouvelle Vague" is a black and white comedy-drama film directed by Richard Linklater starring Guillaume Marbeck as Jean-Luc Godard, Zoey Deutch as Jean Seberg, and Aubry Dullin as Jean-Paul Belmondo. It follows the shooting of "Breathless," one of the first feature films of the Nouvelle Vague era of French cinema, in 1959. The film had its world premiere at the main competition of the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, where it received positive reviews for its casting, performances, writing, and direction from Linklater, who was working in the French language for the first time in his career. Linklater, Marbeck, Deutch, and Dullin were all kind enough to spend a few minutes speaking with us about their work and experiences making the film, which you can listen to below. Please be sure to check out the film, which is now playing in limited release and will be available to stream on Netflix on November 14th. Thank you, and enjoy! Check out more on NextBestPicture.com Please subscribe on... Apple Podcasts - https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/negs-best-film-podcast/id1087678387?mt=2 Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/7IMIzpYehTqeUa1d9EC4jT YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWA7KiotcWmHiYYy6wJqwOw And be sure to help support us on Patreon for as little as $1 a month at https://www.patreon.com/NextBestPicture and listen to this podcast ad-free Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Riots in Paris provoke unrest, while in the countryside French peasants recoil at attacks upon the Catholic Church.Western Civ Podcast 2.0

KATY IS BACK! And we are proud to report that her new baby no longer looks like far-right French politician Éric Zemmour. Relief all around!    It's been a hectic time in Europe, but we're happy to be covering it all—or, you know, a sizable sliver of it—starting with Latvia's potential withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention and the European Parliament's call for new regulation of algorithmic tech in the workplace. Algorithmic management has made its way into all sorts of industries; we dig into whether or not that's a good thing and how new legislation might help to protect us all.   Then it's off to Paris, where tens of thousands of shoppers have already flooded the aisles of the new brick-and-mortar Shein store and thousands of others have been protesting its very existence. That's not only because of Shein's environmentally toxic business model but because of the recent appearance of some despicable products on its website—which has led the French government to threaten to ban the fast-fashion giant. To break it all down, we rang up Paris-based fashion journalist Dana Thomas, author of the book Fashionopolis and host of the podcast The Green Dream.   Mentioned in this episode:   ‘“Cynical and completely reckless” Latvia has the highest femicide rate in Europe — including Russia. Its parliament just voted to exit a treaty protecting women from violence.' - Meduza, November 4, 2025 EU study: 37% of employees are monitored for working hours 1 in 4 workplaces make decisions with algorithms Case studies in algorithmic management Dana's book Fashionopolis Dana's newsletter, The Style Files   This week's Inspiration Station recommendations are the Rosalía album Lux and the podcast series Where Is Jón?, a co-production of RTÉ in Ireland and RÚV in Iceland.    We don't often have sponsors on this podcast but this week, we do: Patagonia. Three years ago, Patagonia named Earth as its only shareholder. But moving more profits to environmental causes hasn't made them a perfect company—let alone a sustainable one. Out now is Patagonia's 2025 Work-in-Progress report: the raw truth about where they're messing up, but also, the latest ways they're rethinking business as usual. You can check out the report here. This podcast was brought to you in cooperation with Euranet Plus, the leading radio network for EU news. But it's contributions from listeners that truly make it all possible—we could not continue to make the show without you! If you like what we do, you can chip in to help us cover our production costs at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠patreon.com/europeanspodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ (in many different currencies), or you can gift a donation to a superfan. We'd also love it if you could tell two friends about this podcast. We think two feels like a reasonable number. 01:21  Katy's back! 05:33  Bad Week: Latvian politicians 19:08  Good Week: All European workers! (Maybe) 30:48  Interview: Dana Thomas on France's threat to ban SHEIN 46:00  The Inspiration Station: 'Lux' by Rosalía and 'Where is Jón'? 50:46  Happy Ending: Europe's first major elephant sanctuary Produced by Morgan Childs  Editorial support from Katz Laszlo Mixing and mastering by Wojciech Oleksiak Music by Jim Barne and Mariska Martina YouTube | Bluesky | Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ | Mastodon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ | hello@europeanspodcast.com

Episode 202: Christmas Magic and History in Natchitoches, Louisiana with Paige Alost In this episode of The Family Vacationer, we continue our Christmas in the U.S. series with a visit to Natchitoches, Louisiana (pronounced Nack-a-tish). Known as the oldest permanent settlement in the Louisiana Purchase, Natchitoches blends French and Creole heritage, small-town charm, and one of America's most beloved holiday traditions—the Natchitoches Christmas Festival, now in its 99th year. Rob and Traci sit down with Paige Alost, Director of the Natchitoches Convention and Visitors Bureau, to uncover the rich history, cultural diversity, and holiday magic that make this town a must-visit destination. From historic architecture and Creole cuisine to Mardi Gras parades, Steel Magnolias filming locations, and the famous Natchitoches meat pie, this episode is full of inspiration for families looking to create unforgettable holiday memories. What You'll Learn in This Episode: The fascinating history of Natchitoches as the oldest city in Louisiana (even older than New Orleans!)How the town's French, Spanish, Creole, and Native American influences come alive for visitorsWhy the Natchitoches Christmas Festival is one of the most magical holiday events in the U.S.The best times to visit during the six-week holiday seasonUnique year-round family attractions, from historic forts to Dark Woods Adventure ParkWhere to taste the town's signature dish—the Natchitoches meat pieHow to explore Steel Magnolias filming locations (and even stay in the famous house)A perfect 48-hour itinerary for families visiting Natchitoches About Our Guest Paige Alost is the Director of the Natchitoches Convention and Visitors Bureau. She is passionate about sharing the history, culture, and hospitality of Louisiana's oldest city with visitors from near and far. Learn more and plan your trip at Natchitoches.com. Resources & Links Plan your trip: Natchitoches.comFollow Visit Natchitoches on FacebookConnect with The Family Vacationer on Instagram and Substack Don't Miss Rob's upcoming book, The Family Vacationer: A Parent's Guide to Meaningful Travel, releases this December! Packed with stories, strategies, and tips, it's designed to help families make the most of every trip together.