Podcasts about gazing

Hello to you listening in Shallotte, North Carolina!Coming to you from Whidbey Island, Washington this is Stories From Women Who Walk with 60 Seconds for Story Prompt Friday and your host, Diane Wyzga.The Witch of Whidbey has been walking in the autumn-drenched fields and forests, some leaves not yet ready to let go of their branches, scattered clouds, hints of rain on the horizon, wood fires holding at bay the Pacific Northwest chill, and, (as if we could ever forget) the fast-approaching Holidazed nipping at our heels.Gazing at the landscape brought to mind two lines from the poem, Three in Transition, by David Ignatow. [American poet, author, editor] wrote:“I wish I understood the beauty in leaves falling.To whom are we beautiful as we go?”As we open the door to this ThankfulGiving Season, let's step in, pause, look deeply at friends, loved ones, and colleagues gathered together, and in that moment reflect on their beauty as they come and go in our lives.Story Prompt: What do you see in them? What might they see in you? Write that story. Tell it out loud!Click HERE to read an analysis of Three in Transition by David IgnatowYou're always welcome: "Come for the stories - Stay for the magic!" Speaking of magic, I hope you'll subscribe, share a 5-star rating and nice review on your social media or podcast channel of choice, bring your friends and rellies, and join us! You will have wonderful company as we continue to walk our lives together. Be sure to stop by my Quarter Moon Story Arts website, check out the Communication Services, arrange a no-obligation Discovery Call, and stay current with me as "Wyzga on Words" on Substack.Stories From Women Who Walk Production TeamPodcaster: Diane F Wyzga & Quarter Moon Story ArtsMusic: Mer's Waltz from Crossing the Waters by Steve Schuch & Night Heron MusicALL content and image © 2019 to Present Quarter Moon Story Arts. All rights reserved.  If you found this podcast episode helpful, please consider sharing and attributing it to Diane Wyzga of Stories From Women Who Walk podcast with a link back to the original source.

Dr. Sharon Hodde Miller unpacks the freedom that comes when we shift our gaze from ourselves to God, drawing from her book Gazing at God: A 40-Day Journey to Greater Freedom from Self. She explores how self-preoccupation fuels anxiety, insecurity, and comparison — and how Christ invites us into a life of purpose, humility, and deep peace. Through personal stories, biblical truth, and real-life examples, she reveals the difference between healthy self-awareness and unhealthy self-obsession, offering a refreshing counter-cultural message rooted in Scripture. If you're tired of striving, self-help overload, and the pressure to be your own hero, this conversation will encourage you to find rest and identity in Jesus — the One who sees, knows, and carries you.

S9 E4 — What if real freedom doesn't come from more self-esteem—but from self-forgetfulness? Amy Julia Becker and author and pastor Sharon Hodde Miller explore the difference between the false self and the true self—and how thinking about ourselves less without thinking less of ourselves leads to healing, humility, and purpose.00:00 Introduction01:58 Defining Self and Self-Forgetfulness07:33 Understanding the Self and Healing09:50 Noticing Ourselves14:12 False Self vs. True Self16:31 The Concept of Self-Denial19:18 The Role of the Body in Self-Understanding22:08 Embracing Insecurity, Humility, and Limitations29:33 The Role of Self in Parenting31:34 Beyond Self: Purpose and Community38:12 Practicing Humility in Daily LifeMENTIONED IN THIS EPISODE:Free of Me and Gazing at God • Books by Sharon Hodde MillerThe Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Tim KellerTo Be Made Well and White Picket Fences by Amy Julia BeckerAmy Julia's new podcast: Take the Next Step amyjuliabecker.com/step/_WATCH this conversation on YouTube: Amy Julia Becker on YouTubeSUBSCRIBE to Amy Julia's Substack: amyjuliabecker.substack.comJOIN the conversation on Instagram: @amyjuliabeckerLISTEN to more episodes: amyjuliabecker.com/shows/_ABOUT OUR GUEST:Sharon Hodde Miller (PhD, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School) leads Bright City Church in Durham, NC with her husband, Ike. She writes, travels around the country speaking at churches and conferences each year, and holds a PhD on women and calling. Sharon is the author of three books: Gazing at God, Free of Me, and Nice. Sharon lives in North Carolina with her husband and 3 young children. To read more of her writing, you can visit her site, SheWorships.com, and you can connect with her on Instagram at @sharonhmiller. We want to hear your thoughts. Send us a text!Connect with me: Instagram Facebook YouTube Website Thanks for listening!

This week’s episode is a little different. We’re pulling back the curtain on one of our BJDW Community Masterclasses, the kind of deep, beautiful, heart-level conversations we host each month with special guests to encourage our community gals on the journey to freedom. We’re joined by Sharon Hodde Miller, author of Free of Me and Gazing at God, to unpack the root of insecurity, and why we often feel insecure when we’re standing on something shaky. Sharon shares how our culture has taught us to treat insecurity by focusing more on ourselves… when the real freedom comes from shifting our gaze to God. She talks about why self-focus is exhausting, what true biblical self-denial looks like (hint: it’s not self-rejection), and how to spot when we’ve made something about us that was never meant to be. If you’ve ever found yourself striving for validation, wrestling with comparison, or feeling “not enough” in your faith, parenting, or purpose, this conversation is going to offer you so much encouragement!.

Gazing up at mountains from their valleys down below, it's hard, if not impossible, to detect any change on the top of the mountains. But change is ongoing, especially in recent history as the climate continues to warm. From Tacoma or Seattle in Washington state, the snowy summit of Mount Rainier National Park appears unchanged from how it's always looked. Snowy. But is that truly the case? What would you think if someone told you the top of the summit no longer is 14,410 feet high, that the high point of the park has actually shrunk? Our guests today are Eric Gilbertson, a mechanical engineer and mountaineer from Seattle University, and Scott Hotaling, a watershed sciences professor from Utah State University, who have measured the thickness of the ice cap on the summit of Mount Rainier. What they have to say may surprise you.

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

Gazing up at the night sky can make us feel small, but it also compels us to ask life's biggest questions. In this sermon, we join the prophet Habakkuk on his watchtower, grappling with the injustice, violence, and suffering he witnessed and asking, "Where is God?"This message suggests that true faith is not about rushing to easy promises, but about the stubborn, defiant choice to keep watch—to look out, ask big questions, and remain expectant even when the heavens seem silent. Keeping watch is the foundation of hope against despair.Scripture Reading: Habakkuk 2Watch the full worship service: https://youtu.be/q3uWd8DcBFULearn more about us: www.youngunitedchurch.com

Dr. Sharon Hodde Miller joins us in this episode to invite us to rediscover peace through the practice of self-forgetfulness. Learn how shifting your gaze from yourself to God can quiet anxiety, heal perfectionism, and open the door to genuine freedom. Connect with Sharon on Facebook and Instagram. Get your copy of Gazing at God.   I Choose My Best Life Podcast is one of the  Top 20 Christian Women Podcasts I Choose My Best Life Books: Being Fully Known, Colorful Connections, Sacred Rest, Come Empty, Set Free to Live Free Connect with Saundra: Twitter: @DrDaltonSmith Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/drdaltonsmith Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DrSaundraDaltonSmith

Did you know there's MAGIC in your Meditation Practice? Say Goodbye to Anxiety and Hello to More Peace & More Prosperity! Here Are the 5 Secrets on How to Unleash Your Meditation Magic https://womensmeditationnetwork.com/5secrets Join Premium! Ready for an ad-free meditation experience? Join Premium now and get every episode from ALL of our podcasts completely ad-free now! Just a few clicks makes it easy for you to listen on your favorite podcast player. Become a PREMIUM member today by going to --> https://WomensMeditationNetwork.com/premium Almost every night, my daughter and I lay down for a meditation before bed. It's a soothing ritual that gives her the chance to calm her body and mind, and also gives us precious, intimate moments together.  Tonight, I invite you to join me as I guide you through a meditation I wrote for her one night after she went to bed, with the intention that you can feel the love in the words, and the relaxation in your body, so you can easily drift off to sleep. Settle into your bed tonight, sweet girl, and let me lay beside you. Let me feel the softness of the sheets, and finally surrender to their welcoming calmness. I've held it all today, and my mind is not done. It wants to hurry you to bed,  finish my tasks, and worry about all those things that seem so important right now.  PAUSE... But then I look at you, Really look at you, Gazing into the chocolate sea of your eyes. And I'm suddenly fully here, in this moment, in this bed, present with you,  and fully awake to everything about you. Join our Premium Sleep for Women Channel on Apple Podcasts and get ALL 5 of our Sleep podcasts completely ad-free! Join Premium now on Apple here --> https://bit.ly/sleepforwomen Join our Premium Meditation for Kids Channel on Apple Podcasts and get ALL 5 of our Kids podcasts completely ad-free! Join Premium now on Apple here → https://bit.ly/meditationforkidsapple Hey, I'm so glad you're taking the time to be with us today. My team and I are dedicated to making sure you have all the meditations you need throughout all the seasons of your life. If there's a meditation you desire, but can't find, email us at Katie Krimitsos to make a request. We'd love to create what you want! Namaste, Beautiful,

When insecurity takes over, most of us double down on self-improvement. But what if freedom doesn't come from focusing more on yourself - but less? In this powerful conversation, Dr. Alison and author of Free of Me and Gazing at God, Sharon Hodde Miller, discuss the promises and pitfalls of self-esteem culture - and why a bigger story of belovedness, stewardship, and connection sets us free.  We talk about how self-preoccupation doesn't improve self-esteem, why “just love yourself more” can reinforce the problem, and how beholding God (not abandoning yourself) recenters your life with humility and purpose. In this episode, we cover: Why self-focus can erode your confidence and joy The difference between self-esteem and self-preoccupation What it means to de-center yourself without losing your worth How wounds can masquerade as pride or insecurity The freedom that comes from remembering: you are not the hero of the story Get your hands on a copy of Sharon's books! You can find them here:

 Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering' party for two on Halloween. by  MoonlitOpal. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch outside the call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near the building entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we'd brought from home. “It's such a gorgeous day,” I sighed. The sky held no trace of clouds, and a maple to my right was spectacular in its display of scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in the cool, crisp air.“Soon it's going to be freezing,” Sam said. We'd been working together for almost a year, long enough for me to know he preferred summer to colder weather. “Then there will be no lunches for you and me outside, Iris. We'll be stuck inside the cafeteria for months.” I knew he was right, but I wouldn't let thoughts of winter, with its frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam and I chatted about work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I finished my sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I'd packed for dessert. Though I knew Sam didn't share my love of sweets, I offered some to him anyway. He shook his head. “No, thank you.” “Oh, come on!” I insisted. “It's almost Halloween! It's practically tradition to eat candy corn this time of year.” He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn't help feeling a nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach. Sam was twenty-three, a year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so expressive they could make a girl's heart melt. His dark hair seemed in constant need of a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers through it and brush it back from his face. “My family never celebrated Halloween,” Sam revealed. I remembered him mentioning that his parents were extremely religious. Sam didn't strike me as particularly devout, and I got a sense that his lack of faith had caused a rift between him and the rest of his family. “It's just like any other day to me,” he went on. I loved Halloween, though being a shy introvert, I never did much to enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made me break out in a sweat, so I usually spent Halloween at my mom's house, where we would hand out candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to give us a sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I'd resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment. Turning toward Sam now, I playfully held out my tongue so he could see the piece of candy corn resting on it. “You should get dressed up and binge on candy at least once in your life,” I told him. “Well, what about you?” he asked. “What are your plans for Halloween?” I shrugged. “My social life is pretty much nonexistent, so I don't have any. Unless…” My heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in my throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness. I averted my stare, then sneaked a glance at him. “Unless you want to come over to my apartment,” I finally managed to say. My ability to flirt was abysmal; I couldn't have been beguiling if my life depended on it. To make matters worse, I knew my face was growing hot as I waited for Sam's answer. When he didn't speak right away, I awkwardly rushed on. “We could dress up if you want–there's still time to get costumes–and I could make a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old horror movies and drink apple cider…” Even as I spoke, I couldn't bring myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic. “You know what, Iris? That sounds like a lot of fun,” he said, and I knew I wasn't imagining it when he moved a few inches closer to me. I tried and failed to suppress a delighted grin at his response. “Awesome! Why don't you come over at around six?” I suggested. Sam knew I lived in the lower-level apartment of a house not far from the call center. “I'll give you the address, and when you get there, just come around back.” Sam's smile widened, as if my enthusiasm was contagious. “So you're going to introduce me to all the delights of Halloween?” he asked. Something in the tone of his voice made a delicious shiver travel down my spine. “I certainly hope to,” I replied. He raised an eyebrow, and I had to duck my head so I could hide behind my shoulder-length brown hair. All the while, I told myself to calm down and stop acting like an idiot. It was just a little get-together at my place. Sam probably didn't even consider it a date. We were simply two friends hanging out for Halloween because we had no other plans. So why did I feel so nervous? Why were my palms sweaty and my hands shaky? Why was it that when I imagined Sam leaning in to kiss me, the thought sent a surge of heat straight between my thighs? “And you're going to wear a costume?” Sam asked. I looked up and gave him what I hoped was a casual smile. “Sure! I mean, you don't have to, but I haven't dressed up for Halloween in forever, so I figure this is my chance to go all out.” Sam reached over to pluck a piece of candy corn from the bag in my lap. “Then I'll dress up, too. I can't promise anything spectacular, but I'll do my best,” he said. “I can't wait to see what you come up with.” Already I was trying to decide on a costume for myself. Should I be a witch? A princess? A ghost? None of those seemed original enough. When my eyes met Sam's once more, I immediately realized just what I wanted to be. Sitting so close to him, I knew I was the very definition of average: average height, average weight. My hazel eyes were somewhat large yet could still pass for average. But during the one night of the year when Sam and I would be alone, and I could transform into whatever or whomever I wanted, I resolved to be anything but average. I would be bold and confident, no longer shy and insecure. And maybe, just maybe, I would be brave enough to make it clear to Sam just how I felt about him. With any luck, he might decide he felt the same way about me. Halloween was still several days away, but I went shopping for a costume as soon as I left work later that afternoon. Some quick online browsing led me to a store downtown, and I could barely contain my excitement as I stepped inside the place. “Can I help you find something?” a woman behind the counter asked me. “The Bride of Frankenstein,” I quickly replied, then added, “the costume, I mean.” All the while I prayed the store had it in my size. The fates must have been smiling down upon me, because the saleslady easily located a costume that looked like it would be a perfect fit. “You're welcome to try it on,” she told me. I gazed at the black wig, which of course featured white streaks on either side, and I imagined how I would look wearing it after I applied some dark red lipstick, along with black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow. The sleeves of the virginal white dress resembled bandages, and the garment's hem was almost floor-length. As I stroked the satiny fabric, I grinned with delight. “I don't need to try it on,” I said to the saleslady. “This is what I want.” The costume was a little pricey for my budget, but I handed over my credit card without hesitation. As I stared down at the dress on the counter, the symbolism of the outfit wasn't lost on me. While I would soon be twenty-three, I'd never had a real boyfriend, and I was still a virgin. After I paid for the costume and left the shop, I decided to swing by the grocery store. Outside the entrance, I studied the pumpkins for sale and finally selected a nice round one, large enough for carving. Once inside, I pushed a cart down the aisles, grabbing a frozen pizza, a variety pack of Halloween candy, and a half gallon of apple cider. Lingering in the cosmetics section, I chose the perfect shade of lipstick. As I surveyed the items in my cart, I realized I was smiling. Simply planning for my evening with Sam made that excited flutter return to my stomach. I tried not to let myself get too carried away imagining what Sam and I might do together on Halloween, but still I wandered the aisles, searching for an item I didn't dare ask for help in finding. Finally I located the condoms, and I stared in bewilderment at all the different kinds. Glancing around, I was relieved no other customers were nearby. Then I set about reading the descriptions on the boxes before choosing a brand that boasted durability. If I did have sex, durability was definitely what I wanted in a condom. I paid for the groceries and then started for home. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was almost dark, and Nora, the woman who owned the house and lived on the upper level, had left the porch light on. I smiled at the kind gesture, though the entrance to my apartment was at the back of the house, so the light from the porch provided almost no illumination once I reached my door. Nora was middle-aged and recently divorced, so when she wasn't working, she was usually out with friends or on a date. Of the two of us, I was the homebody, and I thought she liked having a quiet tenant around to keep an eye on things while she was gone. Once I'd carried all my purchases into my apartment, I put away the groceries and then rushed to try on my costume. Standing before the mirror in my bedroom, I donned the Bride's dress. A delighted grin danced on my lips when I found that it indeed fit me perfectly. After putting on the wig to complete my outfit, I turned from side to side, trying to imagine what Sam would think of me. My costume wasn't sexy; if anything, the dress was modest. But I was definitely transformed into someone new while wearing it. I could only hope the getup persuaded Sam to see me in a different way, too. For the rest of the week, Sam and I ate lunch together, but neither of us mentioned him coming over for Halloween. The holiday fell on a weekend, and by Friday, I was worried Sam had forgotten all about our plans, but as we headed back inside after our lunch break, he looked over at me and smiled. “So I'll be at your place at six on Halloween night.” I nodded, trying not to look too eager as I smiled back. “You have the address, right?” I'd given it to him earlier in the week, but I wanted to make sure. “Of course,” he said. “Would you like me to bring anything?” “Just your handsome self,” I replied without thinking, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to die of mortification. His handsome self? Who actually blurted out something like that? Awkward and socially inept Iris, that was who. The surprise was evident on Sam's face, but his smile widened. “I will be sure to do that, Iris. And by the way,” he went on, leaning close to me and lowering his voice, “you're really cute when you blush.” I spent the day of Halloween cleaning my apartment, determined to conceal the fact that I was a bit of a slob. By the time I had the place spotless, it was well into the afternoon, and once I ate a late lunch, I hurried to take a shower. As the water cascaded over me, I stared down at my body. I'd just shaved my legs and armpits, but I wasn't sure what to do about my pubic hair. I normally kept the dark triangle between my thighs closely trimmed, but now I wondered if I should shave it. If Sam and I got to the point where he actually saw my pubic hair, would he wish I was bare? Finally I decided to leave the hair covering my mound while I shaved my outer lips. When I set the razor aside, I slid my fingertips over the newly smooth skin and realized I liked the way it felt. My flesh felt more exposed, not only to the cool air and the water but also to my touch. I couldn't resist giving my clit a teasing rub. My body immediately responded, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I seemed perpetually horny; it was as if my body was desperately trying to steer me toward finally having sex. To relieve my frustration, I masturbated frequently, and it never took me long to come. Leaning against the shower wall, I spread my legs wider and began massaging my clit with a quick, circular motion. With my other hand, I sought out my entrance and worked two fingers deep inside. There was a twinge of discomfort, a hint of pain, while I attempted to stretch my opening. I knew losing my virginity would hurt, maybe a lot at first, but that wasn't enough to dampen my desire. Even now as I thrust my fingers in and out at a fervent pace, my body readily accepted the intrusion, and I could feel how wet I was. Glancing downward, I saw that my pale pink nipples were hard from my arousal. All I had to do was imagine Sam's mouth around one of them, and I was right on the edge of climax. My thighs shook as I rubbed my clit faster. I fantasized about the way Sam would look, the way he would feel, while he took me. “Fuck me, Sam!” I cried shamelessly. As the words echoed off the shower walls, I surrendered to a fierce orgasm. Releasing a helpless wail, I felt my muscles clench around my fingers deep within me. Again and again my body spasmed, and I reveled in each blissful contraction. After my climax subsided, I continued trembling. Gently withdrawing my fingers from between my thighs, I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to slow. My movements were languid as I finished showering, and when I finally stepped out onto the bathmat and began drying off, I found I was relaxed, almost drowsy. Maybe it was a good thing I masturbated before Sam arrived, I thought. It would keep me from throwing myself at him as soon as he stepped inside my apartment. The idea of doing that made my sensitive clit throb, and I realized it would take far more than one orgasm to subdue my yearning for Sam. I went about blow drying my hair, then carefully pinned it back so it would be hidden under the wig. In my bedroom, I chose to wear a lacy white bra and matching panties beneath my dress. As I carefully applied make-up, I aimed for a dramatic effect that wasn't too over the top. My deep red lipstick was striking, and I managed to create the exact look I wanted with the eyeliner and shadow. Finally I put on the wig and stepped into black heels before giving my reflection a critical look. Then I grinned in satisfaction. “Perfect,” I declared. A few minutes before six, I put the pizza in the oven. I was grateful for something to do, as my anxiety had returned with a ferocity that made my hands shake. It wasn't yet dark, but the day was fading fast outside the kitchen window. Thinking about what the evening might hold for me and Sam was enough to quicken my pulse. Sam arrived right on time, and when I heard his knock, I rushed to answer the door. As soon as we saw each other, our mouths dropped open. I'd never seen Sam in anything other than business casual, but he now stood before me wearing a black cape over a white dress shirt, black vest, and black pants. His hair was slicked back, and he'd even given himself a prominent widow's peak. His stare swept over me, and when he grinned, I noticed his fangs. “You are one spectacular bride!” he exclaimed. I couldn't help but giggle at his compliment. “And you're one sexy vampire. I love your costume!” I made a show of beckoning him into the apartment. “I know you can't enter unless I explicitly invite you inside, so please do come in.” Sam laughed and stepped into the living room. As soon as I closed the door behind us, he drew me into a quick hug. “Thanks for inviting me over tonight.” After I recovered from my initial shock at being in Sam's arms, I hurriedly hugged him back. “Thanks for coming. Are you hungry? The pizza's almost ready.” “Sounds great.” He looked around my apartment as we headed toward the kitchen. “This is an awesome apartment.” “It's kind of small, but I like it,” I said. “Nora–the woman who owns the house and lives upstairs–told me she would be at a party tonight, so no one else is here.” I tried to keep my voice casual as I revealed this information to Sam. “Then we can go absolutely wild,” he responded with a grin. I knew he was only teasing, but the thought of going wild with him made my cheeks redden. All I had to do was remember my earlier fantasy in the shower, and I immediately grew wet. “We can do whatever we want,” I informed him, flashing my own wicked grin. Sam raised his eyebrows, and I could have sworn I saw his face flush a little as well. I busied myself with taking the pizza out of the oven, hoping I hadn't come on too strong. “You need any help?” Sam asked. “Nope. Just make yourself comfortable, and I'll have this ready in a sec.” Sam sat down at the table while I divided the pizza into slices. I couldn't help but be hyperaware of his presence, since I was used to spending all my time in the apartment alone. Once I'd put our plates on the table, along with a glass of cider for each of us, I sat across from Sam, trying to suppress a nervous giggle. “I'll have to take my fangs out,” he said. “Yeah, I guess Dracula never tried to eat pizza. But there's a first time for everything.” I lifted my glass of cider. “Here's to your first time celebrating Halloween, Sam.” He grinned and gently tapped his glass against mine. As we ate dinner, the conversation flowed easily between us. It was as if we were sitting together at lunch, chatting away, and I felt the tension in my shoulders gradually disappear. The evening was going great, I assured myself. Sam looked like he was having fun. After we finished eating, Sam insisted on helping me wash the dishes. We stood side by side at the sink, with me washing and him drying. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” I asked. “Nope,” he replied. “My parents were okay with pumpkins, but jack-o'-lanterns? That's another story.” I nodded toward the pumpkin I'd placed in the corner of the kitchen. “Well, tonight you're in luck, because I picked out the perfect pumpkin for you to carve.” Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Only if you help!” “Deal.” As we took turns scooping out the slimy pumpkin innards, I gave Sam a sidelong glance. “You don't feel like you're doing something sinful right now, do you?” I asked. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” “No, not at all,” he answered. “I have no issue with religion, but my family is just… overzealous. My parents pretty much stopped talking to me when I told them I no longer wanted to attend church with them every Sunday.” “I'm sorry,” I said quietly. Sam shrugged, but I knew his family's estrangement bothered him. “I figure they'll come around eventually.” Sitting at the table beside me, he carefully carved the pumpkin. “Do you get along with your mom okay? From the way you talk about her, it sounds like you two have a good relationship,” he said. During one of our recent lunch conversations, I'd mentioned to Sam that my parents were divorced and I rarely saw my father. “Mom's great,” I told him now, “but we're so different. She's confident and outgoing, and I'm… not.” Sam looked at me and smiled. “You are when you get to know someone,” he said. “I like that.” I beamed at his words, then leaned back in my chair, regarding the pumpkin's new grinning face. “You did a great job! Looks like you're a pro at carving pumpkins.” Jumping up from the table, I got a tea light candle to illuminate the jack-o'-lantern. Once it was lit, I turned off the kitchen light so we could admire Sam's work. As we stood side by side, he slipped his arm around me. I nestled against him, basking in his warmth while inhaling his familiar yet enticing scent. I was exquisitely aware of my body touching his, and I wanted more than anything to kiss him, but I told myself it was too soon. “Wanna watch TV?” I asked. “There are probably lots of scary movies to choose from tonight.” Sam gave me one of his sweet grins. “Sure.” As we headed into the living room, I grabbed the large bag of candy I'd bought. “You thought of everything!” he said, taking off his cape before he sat down beside me on the couch. “I know you're not crazy about sweets, but I figured you could find something you like in that bag.” Now that we were next to each other in the almost darkness, I swallowed hard, trying to fight an attack of nerves. Flipping through the channels, I came across a black-and-white vampire film. “This should be right up your alley,” I told Sam playfully. “Absolutely,” he said as I settled back on the couch. “Maybe I can learn something, because my vampire game needs work.” “Oh, I don't know about that.” I turned to face him. “You're quite alluring.” Sam turned toward me as well, a pleased smile dancing on his lips. “Really?” he asked in a low voice. “How so?” Gazing into his eyes, I told myself to go for it. As nervous as I was, I knew I wasn't imagining his interest in me. Before I spoke, I took a deep breath to gather up all my courage. “Well, you have an incredibly sexy voice, for starters,” I said. Now Sam was grinning. “Is that right?” I slowly nodded, my stare moving to his lips. “I'd be lying if I said I never imagined you leaning close to me and whispering all kinds of dirty things in my ear.” Sam's eyes widened at my confession, and I heard his sharp intake of breath. I quickly looked away from him, afraid I'd gone too far. Still I couldn't deny that my entire body seemed to pulse with need. Simply saying those words to him had made me wet once again. On the television screen, a handsome vampire sank his fangs into a beautiful young woman's neck. I dared to flash a grin at Sam. “Be sure to take notes,” I told him. “Oh, I am,” he responded. “In fact, I'd better get my fangs so I can practice.” Now it was my turn to be surprised as I watched him get up from the couch and retrieve the plastic fangs from the kitchen. He popped them back in place, then sat down next to me again. “So,” he said, giving me a wide smile as he wiggled his eyebrows, “this is the part where I mesmerize you so you're utterly unable to resist me.” Oh, I was already there, but I couldn't tell him that! Instead, I laughed and moved closer to him. “Go for it!” I cried. Sam leaned toward me, bringing his lips close to my ear. “I think you're so sexy, Iris,” he whispered. “All night, I've wanted to kiss you. When I think about slipping a hand beneath your dress, it makes me so hard…” I closed my eyes and released a moan, powerless to hide my arousal. Sam pressed his mouth to my neck, laughing low and soft as he teasingly grazed my skin with his fangs. “That did the trick,” I said, my voice high and breathy. “Now I'm all yours, Sam.” He removed the fangs once again, then turned my face toward his. I stared up at him, my heart pounding like a thundering drum in my chest. Sam pressed his lips to mine, and I melted into our first kiss. His mouth was so warm and soft, so inviting. I slipped my arms around his neck, eager for more of him. When our tongues met, a current of lust traveled through me, and my hips actually began rocking, making my need clear. I finally withdrew from him, breathing hard. Sam's stare was hot, and before I'd recovered from the kiss, he gave me another one, his mouth more demanding. I surrendered completely, feeling lightheaded as a fierce aching began between my thighs. Sam tentatively cupped my breast. My pleasured cry was muffled by his lips, and before I could stop myself, I slid my hand down his chest, then lower. He gave an encouraging moan, which only grew louder when my fingers reached his erection. This time, Sam was the one to break our kiss so he could catch his breath. He looked down, watching me stroke him through his pants. Feeling his hardness beneath my palm made me shiver; it was all I could do not to remove my wet panties, then lift up my dress and spread my legs for him. Instead, I took off my wig, then removed the pins from my hair so it fell free. With Sam's stare riveted to me, and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, I worked up the nerve to say, “I need to tell you something.” “Okay,” he said quickly. I figured there was no sense being coy about it. “I'm a virgin,” I blurted out. “In case you haven't already guessed. But I'm ready for that to change. Tonight.” I fought the urge to avert my gaze as I grew suddenly self-conscious. “I've never had a real boyfriend, so I have no idea what I'm doing. If that scares you off, I understand.” Sam smiled and ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his vampire coif. Then he brought his face close to mine, as if confiding a secret. “That won't scare me off, Iris, since I'm a virgin, too.” My mouth dropped open, for his revelation came as a total shock. “Really?” He nodded. “Most girls I dated in the past were religious, like my family, and they wanted to wait until marriage. Now it seems like everyone our age has already had sex, and I guess I have kind of a hang-up about it. If I do work up the nerve to ask someone out, and we hit it off, I find I'm dreading that inevitable conversation. My insecurity tends to ruin things before the relationship turns sexual.” “But you haven't been insecure with me,” I pointed out. He tilted his head, regarding me with a soft smile. “No, I haven't. I certainly didn't come here expecting to have sex tonight, but when we started kissing and touching, it just felt so… right. I knew I'd be comfortable with admitting my lack of experience to you. I didn't feel like you would judge me.” “Of course I wouldn't,” I said. “But I will admit that, unlike you, I was hoping to have sex tonight, so…” I jumped up from the couch and took off toward my bedroom, leaving a puzzled Sam staring after me. I quickly returned, carrying the box of condoms. Sam's eyes grew wide as he grinned. “You really did think of everything, didn't you?” To be continued.. by  MoonlitOpal for Literotica.

 Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering' party for two on Halloween. by  MoonlitOpal. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch outside the call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near the building entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we'd brought from home. “It's such a gorgeous day,” I sighed. The sky held no trace of clouds, and a maple to my right was spectacular in its display of scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in the cool, crisp air.“Soon it's going to be freezing,” Sam said. We'd been working together for almost a year, long enough for me to know he preferred summer to colder weather. “Then there will be no lunches for you and me outside, Iris. We'll be stuck inside the cafeteria for months.” I knew he was right, but I wouldn't let thoughts of winter, with its frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam and I chatted about work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I finished my sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I'd packed for dessert. Though I knew Sam didn't share my love of sweets, I offered some to him anyway. He shook his head. “No, thank you.” “Oh, come on!” I insisted. “It's almost Halloween! It's practically tradition to eat candy corn this time of year.” He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn't help feeling a nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach. Sam was twenty-three, a year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so expressive they could make a girl's heart melt. His dark hair seemed in constant need of a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers through it and brush it back from his face. “My family never celebrated Halloween,” Sam revealed. I remembered him mentioning that his parents were extremely religious. Sam didn't strike me as particularly devout, and I got a sense that his lack of faith had caused a rift between him and the rest of his family. “It's just like any other day to me,” he went on. I loved Halloween, though being a shy introvert, I never did much to enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made me break out in a sweat, so I usually spent Halloween at my mom's house, where we would hand out candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to give us a sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I'd resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment. Turning toward Sam now, I playfully held out my tongue so he could see the piece of candy corn resting on it. “You should get dressed up and binge on candy at least once in your life,” I told him. “Well, what about you?” he asked. “What are your plans for Halloween?” I shrugged. “My social life is pretty much nonexistent, so I don't have any. Unless…” My heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in my throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness. I averted my stare, then sneaked a glance at him. “Unless you want to come over to my apartment,” I finally managed to say. My ability to flirt was abysmal; I couldn't have been beguiling if my life depended on it. To make matters worse, I knew my face was growing hot as I waited for Sam's answer. When he didn't speak right away, I awkwardly rushed on. “We could dress up if you want–there's still time to get costumes–and I could make a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old horror movies and drink apple cider…” Even as I spoke, I couldn't bring myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic. “You know what, Iris? That sounds like a lot of fun,” he said, and I knew I wasn't imagining it when he moved a few inches closer to me. I tried and failed to suppress a delighted grin at his response. “Awesome! Why don't you come over at around six?” I suggested. Sam knew I lived in the lower-level apartment of a house not far from the call center. “I'll give you the address, and when you get there, just come around back.” Sam's smile widened, as if my enthusiasm was contagious. “So you're going to introduce me to all the delights of Halloween?” he asked. Something in the tone of his voice made a delicious shiver travel down my spine. “I certainly hope to,” I replied. He raised an eyebrow, and I had to duck my head so I could hide behind my shoulder-length brown hair. All the while, I told myself to calm down and stop acting like an idiot. It was just a little get-together at my place. Sam probably didn't even consider it a date. We were simply two friends hanging out for Halloween because we had no other plans. So why did I feel so nervous? Why were my palms sweaty and my hands shaky? Why was it that when I imagined Sam leaning in to kiss me, the thought sent a surge of heat straight between my thighs? “And you're going to wear a costume?” Sam asked. I looked up and gave him what I hoped was a casual smile. “Sure! I mean, you don't have to, but I haven't dressed up for Halloween in forever, so I figure this is my chance to go all out.” Sam reached over to pluck a piece of candy corn from the bag in my lap. “Then I'll dress up, too. I can't promise anything spectacular, but I'll do my best,” he said. “I can't wait to see what you come up with.” Already I was trying to decide on a costume for myself. Should I be a witch? A princess? A ghost? None of those seemed original enough. When my eyes met Sam's once more, I immediately realized just what I wanted to be. Sitting so close to him, I knew I was the very definition of average: average height, average weight. My hazel eyes were somewhat large yet could still pass for average. But during the one night of the year when Sam and I would be alone, and I could transform into whatever or whomever I wanted, I resolved to be anything but average. I would be bold and confident, no longer shy and insecure. And maybe, just maybe, I would be brave enough to make it clear to Sam just how I felt about him. With any luck, he might decide he felt the same way about me. Halloween was still several days away, but I went shopping for a costume as soon as I left work later that afternoon. Some quick online browsing led me to a store downtown, and I could barely contain my excitement as I stepped inside the place. “Can I help you find something?” a woman behind the counter asked me. “The Bride of Frankenstein,” I quickly replied, then added, “the costume, I mean.” All the while I prayed the store had it in my size. The fates must have been smiling down upon me, because the saleslady easily located a costume that looked like it would be a perfect fit. “You're welcome to try it on,” she told me. I gazed at the black wig, which of course featured white streaks on either side, and I imagined how I would look wearing it after I applied some dark red lipstick, along with black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow. The sleeves of the virginal white dress resembled bandages, and the garment's hem was almost floor-length. As I stroked the satiny fabric, I grinned with delight. “I don't need to try it on,” I said to the saleslady. “This is what I want.” The costume was a little pricey for my budget, but I handed over my credit card without hesitation. As I stared down at the dress on the counter, the symbolism of the outfit wasn't lost on me. While I would soon be twenty-three, I'd never had a real boyfriend, and I was still a virgin. After I paid for the costume and left the shop, I decided to swing by the grocery store. Outside the entrance, I studied the pumpkins for sale and finally selected a nice round one, large enough for carving. Once inside, I pushed a cart down the aisles, grabbing a frozen pizza, a variety pack of Halloween candy, and a half gallon of apple cider. Lingering in the cosmetics section, I chose the perfect shade of lipstick. As I surveyed the items in my cart, I realized I was smiling. Simply planning for my evening with Sam made that excited flutter return to my stomach. I tried not to let myself get too carried away imagining what Sam and I might do together on Halloween, but still I wandered the aisles, searching for an item I didn't dare ask for help in finding. Finally I located the condoms, and I stared in bewilderment at all the different kinds. Glancing around, I was relieved no other customers were nearby. Then I set about reading the descriptions on the boxes before choosing a brand that boasted durability. If I did have sex, durability was definitely what I wanted in a condom. I paid for the groceries and then started for home. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was almost dark, and Nora, the woman who owned the house and lived on the upper level, had left the porch light on. I smiled at the kind gesture, though the entrance to my apartment was at the back of the house, so the light from the porch provided almost no illumination once I reached my door. Nora was middle-aged and recently divorced, so when she wasn't working, she was usually out with friends or on a date. Of the two of us, I was the homebody, and I thought she liked having a quiet tenant around to keep an eye on things while she was gone. Once I'd carried all my purchases into my apartment, I put away the groceries and then rushed to try on my costume. Standing before the mirror in my bedroom, I donned the Bride's dress. A delighted grin danced on my lips when I found that it indeed fit me perfectly. After putting on the wig to complete my outfit, I turned from side to side, trying to imagine what Sam would think of me. My costume wasn't sexy; if anything, the dress was modest. But I was definitely transformed into someone new while wearing it. I could only hope the getup persuaded Sam to see me in a different way, too. For the rest of the week, Sam and I ate lunch together, but neither of us mentioned him coming over for Halloween. The holiday fell on a weekend, and by Friday, I was worried Sam had forgotten all about our plans, but as we headed back inside after our lunch break, he looked over at me and smiled. “So I'll be at your place at six on Halloween night.” I nodded, trying not to look too eager as I smiled back. “You have the address, right?” I'd given it to him earlier in the week, but I wanted to make sure. “Of course,” he said. “Would you like me to bring anything?” “Just your handsome self,” I replied without thinking, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to die of mortification. His handsome self? Who actually blurted out something like that? Awkward and socially inept Iris, that was who. The surprise was evident on Sam's face, but his smile widened. “I will be sure to do that, Iris. And by the way,” he went on, leaning close to me and lowering his voice, “you're really cute when you blush.” I spent the day of Halloween cleaning my apartment, determined to conceal the fact that I was a bit of a slob. By the time I had the place spotless, it was well into the afternoon, and once I ate a late lunch, I hurried to take a shower. As the water cascaded over me, I stared down at my body. I'd just shaved my legs and armpits, but I wasn't sure what to do about my pubic hair. I normally kept the dark triangle between my thighs closely trimmed, but now I wondered if I should shave it. If Sam and I got to the point where he actually saw my pubic hair, would he wish I was bare? Finally I decided to leave the hair covering my mound while I shaved my outer lips. When I set the razor aside, I slid my fingertips over the newly smooth skin and realized I liked the way it felt. My flesh felt more exposed, not only to the cool air and the water but also to my touch. I couldn't resist giving my clit a teasing rub. My body immediately responded, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I seemed perpetually horny; it was as if my body was desperately trying to steer me toward finally having sex. To relieve my frustration, I masturbated frequently, and it never took me long to come. Leaning against the shower wall, I spread my legs wider and began massaging my clit with a quick, circular motion. With my other hand, I sought out my entrance and worked two fingers deep inside. There was a twinge of discomfort, a hint of pain, while I attempted to stretch my opening. I knew losing my virginity would hurt, maybe a lot at first, but that wasn't enough to dampen my desire. Even now as I thrust my fingers in and out at a fervent pace, my body readily accepted the intrusion, and I could feel how wet I was. Glancing downward, I saw that my pale pink nipples were hard from my arousal. All I had to do was imagine Sam's mouth around one of them, and I was right on the edge of climax. My thighs shook as I rubbed my clit faster. I fantasized about the way Sam would look, the way he would feel, while he took me. “Fuck me, Sam!” I cried shamelessly. As the words echoed off the shower walls, I surrendered to a fierce orgasm. Releasing a helpless wail, I felt my muscles clench around my fingers deep within me. Again and again my body spasmed, and I reveled in each blissful contraction. After my climax subsided, I continued trembling. Gently withdrawing my fingers from between my thighs, I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to slow. My movements were languid as I finished showering, and when I finally stepped out onto the bathmat and began drying off, I found I was relaxed, almost drowsy. Maybe it was a good thing I masturbated before Sam arrived, I thought. It would keep me from throwing myself at him as soon as he stepped inside my apartment. The idea of doing that made my sensitive clit throb, and I realized it would take far more than one orgasm to subdue my yearning for Sam. I went about blow drying my hair, then carefully pinned it back so it would be hidden under the wig. In my bedroom, I chose to wear a lacy white bra and matching panties beneath my dress. As I carefully applied make-up, I aimed for a dramatic effect that wasn't too over the top. My deep red lipstick was striking, and I managed to create the exact look I wanted with the eyeliner and shadow. Finally I put on the wig and stepped into black heels before giving my reflection a critical look. Then I grinned in satisfaction. “Perfect,” I declared. A few minutes before six, I put the pizza in the oven. I was grateful for something to do, as my anxiety had returned with a ferocity that made my hands shake. It wasn't yet dark, but the day was fading fast outside the kitchen window. Thinking about what the evening might hold for me and Sam was enough to quicken my pulse. Sam arrived right on time, and when I heard his knock, I rushed to answer the door. As soon as we saw each other, our mouths dropped open. I'd never seen Sam in anything other than business casual, but he now stood before me wearing a black cape over a white dress shirt, black vest, and black pants. His hair was slicked back, and he'd even given himself a prominent widow's peak. His stare swept over me, and when he grinned, I noticed his fangs. “You are one spectacular bride!” he exclaimed. I couldn't help but giggle at his compliment. “And you're one sexy vampire. I love your costume!” I made a show of beckoning him into the apartment. “I know you can't enter unless I explicitly invite you inside, so please do come in.” Sam laughed and stepped into the living room. As soon as I closed the door behind us, he drew me into a quick hug. “Thanks for inviting me over tonight.” After I recovered from my initial shock at being in Sam's arms, I hurriedly hugged him back. “Thanks for coming. Are you hungry? The pizza's almost ready.” “Sounds great.” He looked around my apartment as we headed toward the kitchen. “This is an awesome apartment.” “It's kind of small, but I like it,” I said. “Nora–the woman who owns the house and lives upstairs–told me she would be at a party tonight, so no one else is here.” I tried to keep my voice casual as I revealed this information to Sam. “Then we can go absolutely wild,” he responded with a grin. I knew he was only teasing, but the thought of going wild with him made my cheeks redden. All I had to do was remember my earlier fantasy in the shower, and I immediately grew wet. “We can do whatever we want,” I informed him, flashing my own wicked grin. Sam raised his eyebrows, and I could have sworn I saw his face flush a little as well. I busied myself with taking the pizza out of the oven, hoping I hadn't come on too strong. “You need any help?” Sam asked. “Nope. Just make yourself comfortable, and I'll have this ready in a sec.” Sam sat down at the table while I divided the pizza into slices. I couldn't help but be hyperaware of his presence, since I was used to spending all my time in the apartment alone. Once I'd put our plates on the table, along with a glass of cider for each of us, I sat across from Sam, trying to suppress a nervous giggle. “I'll have to take my fangs out,” he said. “Yeah, I guess Dracula never tried to eat pizza. But there's a first time for everything.” I lifted my glass of cider. “Here's to your first time celebrating Halloween, Sam.” He grinned and gently tapped his glass against mine. As we ate dinner, the conversation flowed easily between us. It was as if we were sitting together at lunch, chatting away, and I felt the tension in my shoulders gradually disappear. The evening was going great, I assured myself. Sam looked like he was having fun. After we finished eating, Sam insisted on helping me wash the dishes. We stood side by side at the sink, with me washing and him drying. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” I asked. “Nope,” he replied. “My parents were okay with pumpkins, but jack-o'-lanterns? That's another story.” I nodded toward the pumpkin I'd placed in the corner of the kitchen. “Well, tonight you're in luck, because I picked out the perfect pumpkin for you to carve.” Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Only if you help!” “Deal.” As we took turns scooping out the slimy pumpkin innards, I gave Sam a sidelong glance. “You don't feel like you're doing something sinful right now, do you?” I asked. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” “No, not at all,” he answered. “I have no issue with religion, but my family is just… overzealous. My parents pretty much stopped talking to me when I told them I no longer wanted to attend church with them every Sunday.” “I'm sorry,” I said quietly. Sam shrugged, but I knew his family's estrangement bothered him. “I figure they'll come around eventually.” Sitting at the table beside me, he carefully carved the pumpkin. “Do you get along with your mom okay? From the way you talk about her, it sounds like you two have a good relationship,” he said. During one of our recent lunch conversations, I'd mentioned to Sam that my parents were divorced and I rarely saw my father. “Mom's great,” I told him now, “but we're so different. She's confident and outgoing, and I'm… not.” Sam looked at me and smiled. “You are when you get to know someone,” he said. “I like that.” I beamed at his words, then leaned back in my chair, regarding the pumpkin's new grinning face. “You did a great job! Looks like you're a pro at carving pumpkins.” Jumping up from the table, I got a tea light candle to illuminate the jack-o'-lantern. Once it was lit, I turned off the kitchen light so we could admire Sam's work. As we stood side by side, he slipped his arm around me. I nestled against him, basking in his warmth while inhaling his familiar yet enticing scent. I was exquisitely aware of my body touching his, and I wanted more than anything to kiss him, but I told myself it was too soon. “Wanna watch TV?” I asked. “There are probably lots of scary movies to choose from tonight.” Sam gave me one of his sweet grins. “Sure.” As we headed into the living room, I grabbed the large bag of candy I'd bought. “You thought of everything!” he said, taking off his cape before he sat down beside me on the couch. “I know you're not crazy about sweets, but I figured you could find something you like in that bag.” Now that we were next to each other in the almost darkness, I swallowed hard, trying to fight an attack of nerves. Flipping through the channels, I came across a black-and-white vampire film. “This should be right up your alley,” I told Sam playfully. “Absolutely,” he said as I settled back on the couch. “Maybe I can learn something, because my vampire game needs work.” “Oh, I don't know about that.” I turned to face him. “You're quite alluring.” Sam turned toward me as well, a pleased smile dancing on his lips. “Really?” he asked in a low voice. “How so?” Gazing into his eyes, I told myself to go for it. As nervous as I was, I knew I wasn't imagining his interest in me. Before I spoke, I took a deep breath to gather up all my courage. “Well, you have an incredibly sexy voice, for starters,” I said. Now Sam was grinning. “Is that right?” I slowly nodded, my stare moving to his lips. “I'd be lying if I said I never imagined you leaning close to me and whispering all kinds of dirty things in my ear.” Sam's eyes widened at my confession, and I heard his sharp intake of breath. I quickly looked away from him, afraid I'd gone too far. Still I couldn't deny that my entire body seemed to pulse with need. Simply saying those words to him had made me wet once again. On the television screen, a handsome vampire sank his fangs into a beautiful young woman's neck. I dared to flash a grin at Sam. “Be sure to take notes,” I told him. “Oh, I am,” he responded. “In fact, I'd better get my fangs so I can practice.” Now it was my turn to be surprised as I watched him get up from the couch and retrieve the plastic fangs from the kitchen. He popped them back in place, then sat down next to me again. “So,” he said, giving me a wide smile as he wiggled his eyebrows, “this is the part where I mesmerize you so you're utterly unable to resist me.” Oh, I was already there, but I couldn't tell him that! Instead, I laughed and moved closer to him. “Go for it!” I cried. Sam leaned toward me, bringing his lips close to my ear. “I think you're so sexy, Iris,” he whispered. “All night, I've wanted to kiss you. When I think about slipping a hand beneath your dress, it makes me so hard…” I closed my eyes and released a moan, powerless to hide my arousal. Sam pressed his mouth to my neck, laughing low and soft as he teasingly grazed my skin with his fangs. “That did the trick,” I said, my voice high and breathy. “Now I'm all yours, Sam.” He removed the fangs once again, then turned my face toward his. I stared up at him, my heart pounding like a thundering drum in my chest. Sam pressed his lips to mine, and I melted into our first kiss. His mouth was so warm and soft, so inviting. I slipped my arms around his neck, eager for more of him. When our tongues met, a current of lust traveled through me, and my hips actually began rocking, making my need clear. I finally withdrew from him, breathing hard. Sam's stare was hot, and before I'd recovered from the kiss, he gave me another one, his mouth more demanding. I surrendered completely, feeling lightheaded as a fierce aching began between my thighs. Sam tentatively cupped my breast. My pleasured cry was muffled by his lips, and before I could stop myself, I slid my hand down his chest, then lower. He gave an encouraging moan, which only grew louder when my fingers reached his erection. This time, Sam was the one to break our kiss so he could catch his breath. He looked down, watching me stroke him through his pants. Feeling his hardness beneath my palm made me shiver; it was all I could do not to remove my wet panties, then lift up my dress and spread my legs for him. Instead, I took off my wig, then removed the pins from my hair so it fell free. With Sam's stare riveted to me, and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, I worked up the nerve to say, “I need to tell you something.” “Okay,” he said quickly. I figured there was no sense being coy about it. “I'm a virgin,” I blurted out. “In case you haven't already guessed. But I'm ready for that to change. Tonight.” I fought the urge to avert my gaze as I grew suddenly self-conscious. “I've never had a real boyfriend, so I have no idea what I'm doing. If that scares you off, I understand.” Sam smiled and ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his vampire coif. Then he brought his face close to mine, as if confiding a secret. “That won't scare me off, Iris, since I'm a virgin, too.” My mouth dropped open, for his revelation came as a total shock. “Really?” He nodded. “Most girls I dated in the past were religious, like my family, and they wanted to wait until marriage. Now it seems like everyone our age has already had sex, and I guess I have kind of a hang-up about it. If I do work up the nerve to ask someone out, and we hit it off, I find I'm dreading that inevitable conversation. My insecurity tends to ruin things before the relationship turns sexual.” “But you haven't been insecure with me,” I pointed out. He tilted his head, regarding me with a soft smile. “No, I haven't. I certainly didn't come here expecting to have sex tonight, but when we started kissing and touching, it just felt so… right. I knew I'd be comfortable with admitting my lack of experience to you. I didn't feel like you would judge me.” “Of course I wouldn't,” I said. “But I will admit that, unlike you, I was hoping to have sex tonight, so…” I jumped up from the couch and took off toward my bedroom, leaving a puzzled Sam staring after me. I quickly returned, carrying the box of condoms. Sam's eyes grew wide as he grinned. “You really did think of everything, didn't you?” To be continued.. by  MoonlitOpal for Literotica.

There's a place even deeper than The Ninth Circle of Hell and it's called the Anointing The Sick Metal Blog and what could be more apt than opening the show with a band called Horrible with a track off their album 'Filth then following up with some nihilistic party slop from deathsters Trunk, both albums can be purchased for NYP on Bandcamp. There's a heavy stoner/doom/psych presence this week including albums from Dusted Angel and Stone Machine Electric that entered September's Doom Charts. The random pick this week and also the showpiece track is the immense sludge of Sea Bastard. I saw them a couple of times in Manchester years ago supporting the likes of Graves at Sea and Sourvein and I never recovered.~ Wallow In Sickness ~Horrible                                     NYP - BandcampTrunk                                          NYP - BandcampThorndaleDusted Angel                           #14 Sept 2025 Doom ChartsGodzilla Was Too Drunk To Destroy TokyoAtomic SamanStone Machine Electric         #27 Sept 2025 Doom ChartsThe BateleursBirds Of NazcaBeneath The KudzuVovkBirdwitchAzellProtocol F40.1AnomicSea Bastard

Adeline Atlas 11 X Published AUTHOR Digital Twin: Create Your AI Clone: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/y375cbxn⁠⁠⁠SOS: School of Soul Vault: Full Access ALL SERIES⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/joinus-202f0461-ba1e-4ff8-8111-9dee8c726340⁠⁠⁠Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/soulrenovation/⁠⁠⁠Soul Renovation - BooksSoul Game - ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/vay2xdcp⁠⁠⁠Why Play:  ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2eh584jf⁠⁠⁠How To Play: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2ad4msf3⁠⁠⁠Digital Soul:  ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3hk29s9x⁠⁠⁠Every Word: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/every-word⁠⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/bde5fnf4⁠⁠⁠The Rabbit Hole: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3swnmxfj⁠⁠⁠Spanish Editions:Every Word: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/ytec7cvc⁠⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3jv4fc5n⁠⁠⁠

Hello Fam, Due to some changes in policies in streaming platforms like Spotify, we would be changing our Sleep Music only content to Guided Meditation + Sleep Music to help you sleep better. As uploading Music Only Tracks would make the Spotify remove our Podcast, so that's the reason for changing To Guided Meditation Tracks. We will also be coming soon with our own Android/iOS app to serve you better. Hope you understand and continue to support us. Regards, The Mindset Meditation Team Don't Click This: https://bit.ly/2RnSdjS Follow us on Instagram: https://instagram.com/themindsetmeditationpodcast?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y= Mirror Guided Meditation and Soul Gazing - Celebrating the Creation of Life! Detox your mind and heart of thoughts and emotions that don´t serve you anymore, but are there out of habit. Close your eyes, take a minimum of six slow deep breaths, and begin focusing on relaxing every inch of your body. - Start by focusing on your toes and wiggle and relax your toes - Relax your feet, rotate your ankles and relax your feet - Work up to your calves, Relax your muscles - Continue working your way up your body, one body part at a time. Within minutes as you work your way up to your head continue to take deep breaths. You will begin to feel relaxed as if you were floating. Your body and brain will be massaged into a deep sleep. Detach and let go. Feel at peace. Feel happy. Feel Free. Don't forget it may be useful for your family and friends too. Enjoy this amazing episode. Don't forget to Subscribe to our YouTube channel: The Mindset Meditation Link to our YouTube channel: https://bit.ly/2RnSdjS

What happens when self-doubt meets self-discovery—and a wellness coach turns every wrinkle and “what-the-fuck” moment into joy? In episode 232 of the Joy Found Here, Lauri Stern shares how yoga, energy work, and humor helped her stop judging her reflection and start honoring it. From mirror gazing to her “Joy on the Fives” ritual, she shows how awareness and laughter can quiet the inner critic. For anyone ready to trade perfectionism for presence, this episode proves that joy isn't found—it's practiced.In This Episode, You Will Learn:From yoga mat to microphone (03:58)Embodied wisdom and the chakra connection (05:27)The mirror and the message (08:19)The “what-the-fuck wrinkle” and rewriting self-talk (10:21)Creating The Real and the Woo (15:27)Owning your worth and celebrating small wins (19:59)Girlfriends, growth, and the bra talk (23:16)When life happens for you (27:01)The sponge metaphor and emotional resilience (29:26)Finding joy on the fives (39:21)As the founder of Custom Designed Wellness, Lauri Stern helps people reconnect with body, energy, and intuition through movement, mindfulness, and the chakra system. A certified yoga instructor, Reiki practitioner, and intuitive coach, she blends sacred geometry, energy work, and practical self-awareness to guide others toward alignment and healing. As host of The Real and the Woo podcast, she explores where science meets spirituality with humor and depth—reminding us that joy and self-worth aren't luxuries but daily practices.In this episode, Lauri brings her grounded spirituality and quick wit, reminding listeners that life happens for us, not to us. She and Stephanie discuss mirror gazing, feminine energy, and how to stop dimming our light. From her “what-the-fuck wrinkle” story to her “Joy on the Fives” exercise, Lauri turns self-criticism into compassion and shows how joy can become a habit. With wisdom and humor, she invites us to see ourselves—wrinkles, shadows, and all—as divine works in progress.Connect with Lauri Stern:WebsiteSubstackYouTubeLinkedInTikTokPodcast: The Real and The Woo with Lauri SternLet's Connect:WebsiteInstagram Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Adeline Atlas 11 X Published AUTHOR Digital Twin: Create Your AI Clone: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/y375cbxn⁠⁠SOS: School of Soul Vault: Full Access ALL SERIES⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/joinus-202f0461-ba1e-4ff8-8111-9dee8c726340⁠⁠Instagram: ⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/soulrenovation/⁠⁠Soul Renovation - BooksSoul Game - ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/vay2xdcp⁠⁠Why Play:  ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2eh584jf⁠⁠How To Play: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2ad4msf3⁠⁠Digital Soul:  ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3hk29s9x⁠⁠Every Word: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/every-word⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/bde5fnf4⁠⁠The Rabbit Hole: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3swnmxfj⁠⁠Spanish Editions:Every Word: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/ytec7cvc⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3jv4fc5n⁠⁠

Adeline Atlas 11 X Published AUTHOR Digital Twin: Create Your AI Clone: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/y375cbxn⁠⁠SOS: School of Soul Vault: Full Access ALL SERIES⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/joinus-202f0461-ba1e-4ff8-8111-9dee8c726340⁠⁠Instagram: ⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/soulrenovation/⁠⁠Soul Renovation - BooksSoul Game - ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/vay2xdcp⁠⁠Why Play:  ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2eh584jf⁠⁠How To Play: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/2ad4msf3⁠⁠Digital Soul:  ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3hk29s9x⁠⁠Every Word: ⁠⁠⁠https://www.soulreno.com/every-word⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/bde5fnf4⁠⁠The Rabbit Hole: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3swnmxfj⁠⁠Spanish Editions:Every Word: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/ytec7cvc⁠⁠Drain Me: ⁠⁠https://tinyurl.com/3jv4fc5n⁠⁠

#747 Welcome back to Anxiety Slayer. Last week we shared practices to help you feel more calm and relaxed during uncertain times including candle gazing. Candle gazing is a supportive way to calm your nervous system and bring the light into darker mornings.  Enjoy the meditation.   You can find more of our Guided Meditations and Tapping Sessions on our Patreon at patreon.com/anxietyslayer

Sharon Hodde Miller returns to Shifting Culture to talk about her new devotional, Gazing at God. Building on her earlier work in Free of Me, Sharon explores how the lies of insecurity and comparison keep us trapped in self-preoccupation and how the way of Jesus frees us to lift our eyes toward God and others. Together we talk about why self-esteem culture falls short, how worship reorients us when we spiral inward, the difference between healing the self and neglecting the self, what true success in the kingdom of God looks like, and how abiding in Christ becomes the foundation for real freedom. This is a hopeful and practical conversation about identity, healing, and the joy of gazing at God.Sharon leads Bright City Church in Durham, NC with her husband, Ike, which they planted together in 2018. Sharon earned her M.Div. from Duke Divinity School, and her PhD from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, where she researched the topic of women and calling.In addition to writing for sites like Christianity Today, She Reads Truth, Propel, Relevant, and more, she is the author of three books: Free of Me: Why Life Is Better When It's Not about You, Nice: Why We Love to Be Liked And How God Calls Us to More, and The Cost of Control: Why We Crave It, the Anxiety it Gives Us, and the Real Power God Promises.Sharon travels the country speaking at churches and conferences, and then she loves to return home to her three awesome kids!Sharon's Books:Free of MeGazing at GodSharon's Recommendations:Regenerative PerformanceSubscribe to Our Substack: Shifting CultureConnect with Joshua: jjohnson@shiftingculturepodcast.comGo to www.shiftingculturepodcast.com to interact and donate. Every donation helps to produce more podcasts for you to enjoy.Follow on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Threads, Bluesky or YouTubeConsider Giving to the podcast and to the ministry that my wife and I do around the world. Just click on the support the show link belowContact me to advertise: jjohnson@shiftingculturepodcast.com Support the show

What do global treasury leaders really do to build high-performing teams, navigate massive organizational change, and win industry awards - all while working across time zones? In this live episode from our Dublin event, three senior treasury professionals reveal exactly how they've built careers, led global teams, and driven continuous improvement at some of the world's most recognizable brands.Join Mike Richards as he chats with these three powerhouse treasury leaders:Kiera Agnew, Assistant Vice President, Corporate Assistant Treasurer at KellanovaJulia Donegan, Global Treasury Director at Newell Brands IncKeith Lynch, Senior Director, Global Treasury Centre of Excellence, ViatrisHosted LIVE in Dublin, this episode unpacks the real-world challenges and successes that come with leading treasury in complex, global organizations. From entering the field by chance to shaping the future of the profession, this candid conversation offers a masterclass in what it takes to thrive and lead in modern treasury.What We Cover in This EpisodeHow each guest accidentally fell into treasury and built global careers from the ground up The role of formal education vs. real-world experience in treasury successHow to build and scale global treasury teams, especially post-COVIDThe shift to remote and hybrid work, and how it's changing team dynamicsThe importance of mentorship, leadership, and soft skills in treasuryHow treasury teams earn a seat at the table in strategic business decisionsUsing automation, TMS, and AI to drive transformation - without reducing headcountLessons from award-winning treasury projects in virtual accounts, restructuring, and moreAdvice on career progression, visibility, and getting internal recognitionThe challenges of navigating acquisitions, integrations, and rapid change----

If you long for a life where you are not preoccupied with wondering how you measure up, Dr. Sharon Hodde Miller shares from her book, “Gazing at God: A 40-Day Journey to Greater Freedom from Self.” She'll help you identify the wounds, assumptions, and scripts that keep you focused on you. Learn to recognize your God given true self! Originally aired September 17, 2025 Faith Radio podcasts are made possible by your support. Give now: click here 

This talk is about money and capitalism, and it´s relationshiop to spirituality.Upcoming course: https://www.parallax-media.com/courses/phaenomenologyofwillAcademy: https://www.parallax-media.com/courses-and-eventsPublishing: https://www.parallax-media.com/parallax-booksSubstack: https://parallax.substack.com/ Parallax Network: https://parallax-media-network.mn.co/share/ND8NVO1oMB3RjEyi?utm_source=ma

Are you ever tempted to blame yourself for your suffering? Satan wants us to believe that hardships are punishment for our sin—but nothing could be further from the truth. Christ suffered the consequences of our sin so we don't have to.In this message, Jill looks to the book of Job to explain how—in the midst of our turmoil—we can live above Satan's lies and live in light of the Truth instead. To support this ministry financially, visit: https://www.oneplace.com/donate/1141/29

Have you ever felt the weight of insecurity—wondering if you’re enough, measuring yourself against others, or carrying the burden of impossible expectations? I know I have. That’s why I was so grateful to sit down with Sharon Hodde Miller for this week’s episode of The Love Offering Podcast. Sharon is the author of Free of Me and her newest devotional, Gazing at God. Both books offer a refreshing, hope-filled message: true freedom doesn’t come from fixing ourselves but from fixing our eyes on Him. Sharon invites us to embark on a grace-filled journey toward freedom from self-centeredness. In her 40-day devotional, she gently guides readers to: identify the wounds, assumptions, and scripts that keep us stuck in self-focus· recognize our true identity in Christ· break the bondage of insecurity so we can freely love God and others As Sharon writes, “We are never more fragile than when we make ourselves the center of our story.” The good news is that our story doesn’t begin or end with us—it begins and ends with God. If you’ve been weighed down by insecurity or caught in the cycle of striving and self-doubt, I encourage you to listen to this week’s conversation. Sharon’s wisdom will help you exchange the exhausting work of self-focus for the joy of gazing at God. I pray this episode helps you lift your eyes, find rest, and walk in the freedom that comes from knowing your Creator deeply loves you. Cheering you on,Rachael Read the Show Notes: https://rachaelkadams.com/writing/ Download the Who You Say I Am Free Devotional: https://rachaelkadams.com/free/ Support the Show: https://rachaelkadams.com/ Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

With Tom Amarquewww.parallax-media.comThis talk is ostensibly about the culture war that is, to agreater or lesser extent, occupying all our minds right now. But I don't wantto get lost in the political trenches. Instead, I'd like to shift thehorizontal axis to a vertical one and see what lies underneath.We can't talk about the culture war without talking aboutfeminism, and we can't talk about feminism without Carl Jung. Perhaps, intalking about the latter, we can shed some light on the former—or at leastbring in a parallax view. That may sound like a daring endeavor, but let's gofor it and try to weave politics, psychology, and what we might call deepsociology together.

Join our discussion on the importance of the leader’s personal devotional life. Are you gazing into the scriptures and onto the face of your Savior, or are you merely giving Him a glance? Changing this can change everything! In this episode of the Rural Pastor Podcast, Andy Addis and Danny Payne share honest stories from […]

If you long for a life where you are not preoccupied with wondering how you measure up, Dr. Sharon Hodde Miller shares from her book, “Gazing at God: A 40-Day Journey to Greater Freedom from Self.” She'll help you identify the wounds, assumptions, and scripts that keep you focused on you. Learn to recognize your God given true self! Faith Radio podcasts are made possible by your support. Give now: click here   

Today's first reading from the Old Testament is very strange. The people Israel sin against the Lord, and, as a result, serpents invade the land and bite the people, killing many. As a remedy, the Lord directs Moses to make a serpent out of bronze and mount it on a pole; whoever gazes at the bronze snake will be healed. It wasn't until the Passion and Death of Jesus that this mysterious episode was better understood: Just as the people gazed upon the consequence of their sin mounted on a pole, so now, we gaze upon the One who bore the weight of our sin -- "becoming sin" on the Cross as Paul said -- and in gazing at Jesus, we are healed. On this Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, may we appreciate anew this tremendous gift of the forgiveness of our sin and our salvation!

Geoff and Marie's Good Life: Part 13Appetites Vary.Diversity is a good thing.Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.I guided my friend through to join the women and helped him to the head of the table. Megan sat to his right, Lucy to his left. I sat opposite him, Marie to my right, Angie to my left. Rather than a traditional Sunday roast, Megan had ordered a beef wellington with horseradish mashed potatoes, and green vegetables sautéed in garlic butter. The ladies were at ease in their near nudity; Angie having, just about, covered her bare tits with some pointless scrap of translucent fabric.The men, well, we did them the courtesy of admiring them. The conversation was surprisingly normal, by our standards at least. Lucy expressed her gratitude at being offered a place to stay. She was a little overwhelmed when Megan corrected her. Not a place to stay; a home.I shared the photo that Mike had sent me, showing Eddie with his new friend. "He rejected Lucy for HER?" Was Charles' incredulous response. Lucy was more sanguine. As far as she was concerned, Eddie had made his preference clear. In her mind she was already single, with an entire team of people willing to love her and a wealth of emotions that she needed to set out on canvas. That thought also reminded her. The day we christened her studio, she was determined to make a mold of my genitalia, while I was erect."How many castings are you intending to make?" I asked, in all innocence."A dozen or so in latex or silicone rubber for your Harem, or the Coven as Marie refers to us." I shrugged. That seemed a lot but, what the hell.She fell silent for a moment, as though calculating. "And then I thought, because it's such a nice shape, I'd do a limited edition of signed epoxy castings, about a hundred, each numbered and with its own unique marbled pattern."Everyone stopped eating and stared at her. "What?" She seemed defensive. "He only has to make a squiggle. Not his actual name, for pity's sake." She shook her head. "I was going to ask him if I could add a drop of his semen into the epoxy to infuse it with his essence. I could double the asking price then." She looked around the table at each of us in turn. "Well, think about it, anyway," she suggested to my wife and I.We changed the subject to our plans for the wedding and returned to enjoying our meal. For dessert there were individual warm pear frangipanes with brandy ice cream. By the time we had finished, not a morsel was left.We helped to tidy the kitchen and, after sitting and chatting for a little while longer, my three companions dressed and we left, making a short diversion to return the restaurant's delivery boxes. I picked up their home delivery menu on the way out. I was mortified; our meal must have cost our hosts over three hundred pounds. My 'expensive' wine from M and S seemed a bit pathetic by comparison.As we drove home, they discussed, without inviting input from me, my plans for the evening. Apparently, while I pleasured each of them individually in my bed, the other two would discuss the details of our wedding ceremony. We hadn't decided on a date but we needed to have the costumes selected very soon so that we could give the students who were making the outfits the design brief for each guest for their course-work. Lucy was intrigued at the idea of creating some scenic backdrops for the venue as well as helping with prop design. I was content to be well out of it.I'd swallowed one of my little chemical helpers as soon as we got home so, leaving my wife and Lucy to look on-line for inspiration, Angie joined me in bed. "Angie. I promised you a special treat if you earned it. You've earned it today, with Charles. But tonight would you be disappointed if we just made love? No toys, just you and me? Then we can find enough time to really explore your kinky side.""It's a deal," she agreed, unbuttoning my shirt. "You, me and the toy box can wait for another day. I'm okay if it's just the two of us for now."I helped off with her top and we kissed for a while, me savoring the feel of her lace covered tits against my chest. In time, we wanted more so we finished undressing ourselves and I led her to the bed. She sat me at the edge and knelt between my thighs. "I'm doing this because I want to," she reassured me. To be fair, I intended to return the favor, because I also wanted to. Isn't it nice that we have balance in our lives.Angie's oral ministrations were affectionate rather than porn-worthy, intended to show her love rather than display her ability to swallow my entire cock. When she finally took me over the edge, there were no theatrics; no swirling my cum in her mouth. She just quietly swallowed my sperm, cleaned me and looked lovingly up at me. Angie is a complex character. Strong, assertive, willful even. But behind that was a vulnerability, an uncertainty in social interactions. But with Marie and I, she relaxed totally.Pulling her to her feet I made her swap places and I knelt in turn, between her thighs. I repeated her own words to her before I leaned in to taste the nectar between those lips. For ten full minutes I knelt there, kissing her thighs, her mound; running my tongue along her labia and, briefly now and again, tantalizing her clit.As soon as I felt myself harden again, I knew it was time. I stood up and stretched (I'm fairly fit, but the years, and rugby, have taken their toll) then joined her on the bed. We made ourselves comfortable, Angie having decided she wanted 'snuggling' from behind. I indulged her. It isn't the best position for vigorous sex. It isn't the most visually stimulating; but, for screwing someone you love, it has a special languorous intimacy that I cherish. There was no rush for us to climax. My cock was perfectly content to slip slowly back and forth in Angie's slick tunnel.I realized that I was getting close and started to use my hand on her clit. She stopped me. "Take your time, Geoff," she murmured. "I've come once already. This is nice as it is. You need to learn that sometimes we need the intimacy as much as the orgasm."I think I understood. So, instead of our customary race to the finishing line, we kept a slow, tender rhythm until I couldn't hold back any longer and spurted inside her. "See," she murmured. "Wasn't that nice. You came and I could just enjoy the experience without arsing about having to fake an orgasm. This was much more satisfying."We lay for another ten minutes, just talking, before Angie left for the bathroom. I got up and used the shared bathroom then, wearing just my dressing gown, went downstairs. Marie and Lucy were studying our TV, where Marie was casting the images of Star Wars costumes that people had shown an interest in for our wedding. Lucy was trying to decide what outfit appealed to her.I gave Marie a pointed look to suggest the it was her turn upstairs. She shook her head. "Angela is going home tonight and Lucy tells me we're dropping her off at her place. I'm happy to wait until bed-time."Lucy smiled and shook her head too. "If you want me, I'm yours. But I'm content that I've had my ration for today. Tuesday, however, Marie will be at the shop. Would that be a convenient time for you to model for me?"'Model': Now there was an innocent enough expression; slightly less so if you prefixed it with the word, 'penis', for accuracy. Presumably, once the casting was done, my erection wouldn't be allowed to go to waste. So, two birds, one stone; cock casting and studio christening all in one visit. Mr. Efficiency, that's me.I dressed and made us a light supper and we ate once Angie re-joined us. At nine o'clock we left our planning session, having given Lucy some ideas to work with, and I drove her home. Angela and Marie followed us. We shared a bottle of wine, Angie sticking to the one glass, while Lucy showed us the unfinished works in her studio. She pointed to a stack of half a dozen propped against a wall. "I can't finish those," she commented in a flat tone. "I started them while Eddie was pissing me about, but my outlook has changed since, well, you know, and I'm in such a different place now that I don't know where the next brush stroke goes." She picked one up and examined it critically. "This isn't art," she decided. "This is an emotional breakdown on canvas." She made to throw it away. I stopped her. She looked at me in surprise."It's an asset," I reminded her. "If Eddie gets a solicitor and he bids for a share of your works, give him these.""But they aren't finished," she protested."Would Eddie know that?""No, but;”"So," I pointed out, gently. "Keep them. If Eddie plays silly buggers and demands a share of your work as marital assets, you can honestly say these were painted while you were together, the judge would be impressed and you unload these on Eddie.""But they are shit," she argued."And where would Eddie go to unload this shit?"Her eyes widened. "The gallery in town," she gloated. "If Eddie tried to sell them there, Carl, the owner, would check with me for the provenance. I'd tell him the truth and he'd sell them off cheap as unsigned, unfinished, unattributed works; he'd have to. Both to keep me sweet and keep his reputation." The three women exchanged malicious smiles. "I almost hope he tries it," she added. "I'd love to put one over on him one last time."We stayed with her until ten, when she declared that it was time for us to get away and for her to go to bed. Eddie was, fortunately for all of us, still notable by his absence. We left, agreeing to return before eleven the next morning, and Angie dropped Marie and me off on her way home. The two of us followed Lucy's example and went straight to bed.As we cuddled up close, we each asked the other, almost in unison, "Are we still okay?" The fact that we were both concerned more about our spouse's feelings than our own, suggested that we were. Then my wife slipped her nightie off and lay back down next to me. What followed convinced me that we were fine.The next morning, Angie collected us after breakfast and we arrived at Lucy's house about quarter to eleven. By then, the two guys in the van had moved most of the boxes with her clothes out of her bedroom and were starting to empty her studio. They refused our offer of help so we made them a cup of tea and retired to the kitchen out of their way. We were still there twenty minutes later when Megan arrived.Accepting a coffee from Lucy, Megan produced two brown, official looking, envelopes from her bag. They were both addressed to Eddie. The first one she held up had a large figure '1' in the top left corner. "This," she explained. "Is Eddie's formal notice that you have begun divorce proceedings and letting him know that, to comply with the legal requirements, you are now living apart, effective from midnight tonight."She turned her attention to me. "I liked your suggestion that Lucy keeps those depressing unsigned works to hand. We have included our proposals for the fair division of assets and advised Eddie to seek his own legal advice. If he gets greedy, we will have to try to agree a compromise or go to court for a Financial Order. In either of those cases, those works could come in useful."She held up the second envelope, appropriately enough with a figure '2' in the corner. This document," she announced, cheerfully. "Informs your soon-to-be ex-husband that you are waiving your right to occupy, granted by the trust set up for Alison. Your daughter, the de-facto owner, has retained me to act on her behalf to put it on the rental market."She gave a beatific smile that lit up the room. "As Lucy occupied under the terms of the trust, there is no tenancy agreement. Eddie's name appears on none of the utilities so, as far as Alison is concerned, he can pay the commercial rental fee, and stay, or piss off and live with his girlfriend. He certainly hasn't a leg to stand on if he thinks she'll let him live here for free, now that Lucy has moved out.""What will you be asking for the rent?" I asked, just out of interest. She told us. The rest of us sat, slack-jawed, gaping around the table at each other. "How much?" I admit, my voice came out in a less than masculine squeak. She repeated the figure. "That's more than the fucking mortgage would be," I pointed out, then begged Megan to excuse my language."True," Megan conceded, unperturbed by my profanity. "But a landlord has to cover additional contingencies; electrical safety, insurance, maintenance, management fees and the like." She shrugged. "We are actually not stiffing Eddie. If he can't afford to pay, I guarantee we'll have a family in here paying that per month, within three weeks of taking possession.""Eddie can't afford that," Lucy observed, without satisfaction. "Even if he stopped drinking and gambling, he'd barely be able to cover the rent. He'd just about have pennies left to live on.""That's as may be," Megan replied, acerbically. "But much of my professional life has been spent dealing with people who ignored the consequences of their actions." She listed some examples on her fingers. "Drunk drivers, offspring contesting their parents' wills after years of ignoring them, vandals, shoplifters, idiots who thought it was okay to defraud insurance companies and, yes, cheating spouses." She shook her head in despair. "Nobody made them act that way; they made choices, just like Eddie. He could have managed his money instead of blowing it on booze and horses. He could have treated his wife with respect. He did neither; he made his choice, so he gets to own whatever that brings."We were contemplating her words when one of the movers knocked on the kitchen door and announced that they were finished. He suggested that Lucy go through each room before they left, to confirm that the guys had collected everything that she wanted taken. It was a somber moment as we five checked each room in turn."Is there anything of yours in the garage?" I enquired, remembering that Lucy sometimes sculpted in metal.She smiled and shook her head. "I moved my welding gear to Megan's last week. They had room in their garage and I knew that Eddie would never notice that it was gone." She took one more slow look around the living room. "No. That's it. This is Alison's house now. I've lost two husbands here. I won't say that the wrong one died; but I'm close. Fuck it. Let's go."We followed her out and watched as she locked up and gave her keys to Megan. We stood and waved as the two of them got into their cars to follow the van to Lucy's new home. I think we all realized that this day had been long coming, but even knowing that, we still knew that Lucy had to be hurting inside.We three went home. Lucy, Charles and Megan needed time together to reach some sort of accommodation about, well, Lucy's accommodation. Our presence wasn't required. We grabbed a light lunch and I turned the TV on. Dear God! There were adverts on already for Christmas. I turned to my wife to see if she found it as irritating as I did, only to pause at the thoughtful expression on her face."Angie," she said. Our fiancée looked up. "You like stately homes, don't you?" Angie agreed this was, in fact, the case. "Well how do you feel about a trip to Derbyshire?""Because?" Angie prompted."Because I think you'd love Chatsworth," Marie suggested. "And in November there's a Christmas market in the grounds and the house will be beautifully seasonally decorated." My wife turned her attention to me. "Geoffrey?""Sounds good to me," I agreed. "I'll book three tickets.""I'll book us somewhere to stay," Angie offered. "Somewhere nice."So that was agreed. Finishing our lunch, we decided that we ought to get some fresh air, so we went for a stroll together. Marie assumed her place holding my right hand and Angie holding my left. Without really intending to, our return path took us past the pub. We decided that, as we were obviously people of low moral standards, we might as well go in.Tony, the landlord knew us well enough; Marie and her friends are there every other Friday after all. We chatted as he pulled my pint and poured the girls' white wines. I remembered there was a function room upstairs and asked to see it. It didn't take long. It was just a large rectangular room. On the plus side, it had a small, raised stage at the far end and there was a bar near the door. On the other hand, it was a bit tired.Tony saw my expression. "I know," he acknowledged. "It desperately needs repainting, but since Covid, it's been a Catch22. We need new business but we don't have the cash to invest to attract it."I paced out the room and we went back to the lounge. "If the walls were just white," I suggested. "Then you could mount a projection system on the ceiling and have an almost infinite selection of décor for any occasion."My girls listened to our conversation with interest. Tony considered my idea. "So, instead of choosing a color scheme for the room, I just paint it plain white and project whatever the customer wants for their occasion," he mused."Exactly," I agreed. Gender reveals, weddings, kids' themed parties or Goth Halloweens; hit enter on the computer and the room's personalized.""Or Star Wars weddings," Angie contributed. "Nice thinking Geoff."I bowed, modestly. "Peter works in IT," I reminded the girls. "This isn't directly his field but he may know someone who could advise us." I turned back to our host. "Would you be interested if I could find out what an installation like that would entail?"Apparently, he would and, after discussing the practicalities of hosting our celebration there, we resumed our walk home in a rather more excited mood. We were still talking about the logistics when Colin arrived, with Mia in tow, and asked what we were arguing about. We'd moved onto the timing by then. Angie favored March but Marie was concerned that our student friends needed more time to design and create our growing collection of outfits. My wife thought a summer wedding would be nicer, possibly even outdoors. I was on the fence.Colin looked at us with a mixture of surprise and, it hurts me to admit this, disappointment. "Surely you know the date. There's only one day it can be." He looked sadly at our blank stares. "For goodness sake grandpeople. Star Wars Day! May the Fourth."I confess: I hung my head in shame. I glanced at Angie. She was shaking her head, muttering, "So damn obvious that a child could see it. What's wrong with me?"Marie was bemused. "What's going on? What do you mean; Star Wars Day? Is that a thing? Do people send cards?"Mia took pity on her in the face of Colin's despairing silence. "May the Fourth sounds like the Jedi blessing, you know, May the Force be with you," she explained patiently. "May the Fourth; May the Force."Marie 'got it' then. "So if there's one day in the year to do Jedi stuff, it's May the Fourth." She gave a deep sigh. "God! But nerds are weird." She looked fondly at Angie and me. "And I'm stuck with two of them."It was Marie's turn to cook and Colin asked if Mia could eat with us as her mum was working late. Of course, she was welcome and Angie volunteered to help in the kitchen. The two women left us, with Marie making very clear who was in charge as they went.That left me with the two teens. "Homework?" I asked."Did it at lunchtime," answered Colin."Me too," Mia added."Right then. Go amuse yourselves. You can have the TV if you want.""Well Grandad. The thing is; We were talking about 'The Talk', and we have some questions.""Oh you do, do you?" This wasn't quite how I'd visualized this going. "To be honest, I don't think it would be appropriate for me to have that particular discussion with Mia." I turned to address my comments directly to her. "Mia, sweetheart, this is a conversation that you should really be having with your mum. Even if it makes her too uncomfortable and there are no aunts or older female cousins to ask, it should still be a woman you talk to rather than me.""But why?" She asked."Because if anyone found that a man had been discussing sex with a young woman not related to him, they might think that he was grooming her. Can you imagine how being accused of that would change all of our lives?""I suppose so," she conceded."How about this?" I suggested. "You ask your mum the same questions that Colin has for me and you can compare notes. But," I put on my laboratory manager voice. "No personal research!" They nodded, grinning, and I told them to clear off: I'd deal with that problem later. I sloped off to read my book; I felt as though I'd not has a minute to myself in ages.Marie and Angie had excelled themselves. When Linda arrived, we sat down to a dish of roast Mediterranean vegetables served with potato wedges, fetta, pitta bread and smoked garlic mayonnaise. I hadn't heard a single cross word from the kitchen either. The kids demolished their meals and asked for second helpings. Marie made sure that there was some left for Wendy, who was coming to collect Mia on her way h

Read Online“Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?”  Luke 6:41Saint Teresa of Ávila, one of the greatest spiritual writers and doctors of the Church, explains in her spiritual masterpiece “Interior Castles,” that one of the first steps on the path to holiness is self-knowledge. Self-knowledge produces humility, because humility is simply having a true opinion about yourself. When a person fails to know themself from the true perspective of the mind of God, then they open themselves up to many errors of judgment. One such error is that they can easily become fixated upon their perceived sins of others.The Gospel passage quoted above depicts a person who gravely lacks self-knowledge. Why? Because they “do not perceive the wooden beam” in their own eye, meaning, they do not see their own sin. As a result, Jesus explains that this person also becomes fixated upon the “splinter” in their brother's eye.When you consider your own thoughts, what do you dwell upon the most all day long? Do you honestly look inward, seeking to know yourself as God knows you? Or do you spend excessive time thinking about others, analyzing and judging their actions? This is an important question to ask yourself and to answer with honesty.The best way to know yourself is to gaze upon Jesus. When He becomes the focus of your attention throughout the day, you will not only come to know Him, but you will also come to know yourself more honestly. Gazing at the beauty and perfection of our Lord will have the double effect of knowing Him and knowing yourself through His eyes. It will also help you to know others as He sees them.How does Jesus look at those around you? He looks at them with perpetual mercy. True, at the end of every life, when we pass from this world to the next, we will encounter our particular judgment from our Lord. But while here on earth, God continually gazes upon us with mercy. For that reason, mercy must become our daily mission, and we must build a habit of gazing upon everyone in our life with the eyes of mercy. Reflect, today, upon our Lord. Look at Him, gaze upon Him, seek to know Him and make Him the focus of your attention. As you do, try to dismiss from your thinking process your own perceived judgments of others. Allow your gaze upon our Lord to help you to not only see Him but to also see others through His eyes. Build this habit and you will be on the fast track to the path to holiness. My merciful Jesus, may I build a humble and true habit of gazing upon You in Your splendor and beauty. As I see You, day in and day out, please also help me to see myself through Your eyes of mercy so that I will also grow in humility. Please remove all judgment from my heart so that I will be free to know and love all people as You know and love them. Jesus, I trust in You.  Image: Fra Angelico, Public domain, via Wikimedia CommonsSource of content: catholic-daily-reflections.comCopyright © 2025 My Catholic Life! Inc. All rights reserved. Used with permission via RSS feed.

During the week of Sept. 2, a kid reminds us to delight in nature and astronomers observe the heavens. Staff phenologist John Latimer responds.

Jessy, John, Scott and Max talk about the latest Commanders news, the Parsons trade and predict wins and playoff contenders.

Patrick McKenzie (patio11) is joined by Bean, a pseudonymous defense industry expert, to explore the intellectual crossovers between military and civilian domains. The conversation reveals how the defense industry's fundamental constraint of having only one customer (a monopsony) creates entirely different incentives than tech, leading to conservatism and 30-50 year product lifecycles. Bean argues that drones are largely modern iterations of cruise missiles we've had since the 1950s, and explains why current anti-drone defenses make swarm attacks less threatening than headlines suggest.–Full transcript available here: www.complexsystemspodcast.com/defense-with-bean-of-naval-gazing/–Sponsor:This episode is brought to you by Mercury, the fintech trusted by 200K+ companies — from first milestones to running complex systems. Mercury offers banking that truly understands startups and scales with them. Start today at Mercury.comMercury is a financial technology company, not a bank. Banking services provided by Choice Financial Group, Column N.A., and Evolve Bank & Trust; Members FDIC. –Recommended in this episode:Naval Gazing: https://www.navalgazing.net/––Timestamps:(00:00) Intro(00:29) The overlap between tech and defense(01:35) Operations research in World War II(02:55) Mathematical insights and military strategies(05:28) The role of operations research in modern warfare(16:59) Tech and defense (Part 1)(19:48) Sponsor: Mercury(21:00) Tech and defense (Part 2)(26:07) Economics behind the defense industry(32:07) SpaceX's early challenges and achievements(33:00) The Super Hornet development story(34:39) Military procurement lessons(37:42) Aerospace industry retention rates(38:42) Lockheed Martin's dominance and supply chain(40:55) Drone technology and military applications(46:53) Anti-drone defenses and future warfare(48:01) Naval warfare and historical perspectives(01:01:03) Wrap

Fresh back from GenCon, here's a look at the current state of Star Wars tabletop gaming! Miniatures! Paint! Dice! It's all here!Join the Short for a Stormtrooper community!Discord: https://discord.gg/a89TD3XdFXEmail: SFASpod@gmail.com

While all the G1 talk is over at www.patreon.com/superjcast, Joel and Damon share some special audio as Damon makes the trip over the pond to visit Joel at his home in Devon. Gazing lovingly at each other while sharing a mic, we talk about the Oasis gig, Hulk Hogan, and the history and future of the Super J-Cast.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/super-j-cast/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

While all the G1 talk is over at www.patreon.com/superjcast, Joel and Damon share some special audio as Damon makes the trip over the pond to visit Joel at his home in Devon. Gazing lovingly at each other while sharing a mic, we talk about the Oasis gig, Hulk Hogan, and the history and future of the Super J-Cast.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Gazing into the crystal ball that is the AFL ladder predictor, Andrew Wu and Peter Ryan deliver some final-eight forecasts that surprise even themselves on this week's tipping edition of the Real Footy podcast. Turning their attention to round 21, they pontificate over the prospects of the Western Bulldogs against GWS, weigh-up a fascinating clash between Adelaide and Hawthorn and disagree vehemently over who will triumph in Saturday night's MCG match between Collingwood and the Brisbane Lions.Support the show: https://subscribe.theage.com.au/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this deeply moving episode, Ruth Willett, Prayer Coordinator for Freedom Challenge USA, invites listeners into a sacred space of worship, intercession, and hope. With a heart broken for the 50 million enslaved around the world, Ruth shares how we can face the darkness of human trafficking not with despair, but with divine strategy—by glancing at the issue and gazing at God. Through Scripture, worship, and prayer, she equips listeners to become freedom fighters in the spiritual realm. Whether you're new to this fight or have long carried the burden, this episode will inspire you to believe that worship is warfare—and that freedom is possible, one prayer at a time.---Watch the interview: https://youtu.be/7v75Ig6GAq0Read the blog: www.thefreedomchallenge.com/blogposts/2025/7/27/freedom-in-worship---Want to learn more? The Freedom Challenge US: thefreedomchallenge.comOperation Mobilization USA: omusa.orgInstagram: @freedomchallengeusa / Facebook: @thefcusaSupport the show

Series: Grazing and GazingWeek: 4Scripture: James 1:25Preacher: Jeremy Kerstell

Series: Grazing and GazingWeek: 3Scripture: Psalm 1:1-6Preacher: Seth Brill

In tonight's terrifying tale, "Don't Go Gazing," a psychological thriller creepypasta horror story, we follow the chilling descent of a man haunted by a strange phenomenon that begins with a simple gaze into the night sky. As the mystery deepens, reality begins to unravel, exposing a horrifying truth lurking just beyond the veil. Perfect for fans of Creepypasta, True Scary Stories, Deep Woods Horror Stories, and disturbing psychological horror, this story will keep you questioning what's real—and what's watching. Prepare yourself for one of the most mind-bending scary stories you'll hear tonight.

Series:  Grazing and GazingWeek: 2Scripture: Joshua 1:1-9Preacher: Seth Brill

Tired of the mental exhaustion that comes from constantly wondering what others think of you? In this episode, bestselling author and pastor Sharon Hodde Miller, Enneagram 7 (7-3 pairing) reveals why examining our life without just gazing inward, but also up at God and outwardly to others can also help us to break free from the self-focused scripts that keep us trapped in insecurity. Although some Enneagram patterns fuel self-preoccupation, others fuel giving in excess so today we talk candidly for all types about what it looks like to find true rest in our relationship with God rather than our performance. Whether you're a perfectionist who can't stop self-critiquing or someone whose marriage triggers more anxiety than peace, this conversation offers a grace-filled path to freedom from the exhausting cycle of self-focus that keeps us from truly connecting with God and others. Watch on YouTube! Sharon's book, Free of Me, JUST relaunched here! https://a.co/d/0Bnrggf Her beautiful book devotional, Gazing at God, is on sale for pre-order here! https://a.co/d/f9U3PEz Follow Sharon on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/sharonhmiller/?hl=en For more relationship tips, allow yourself time to peruse our page right here! www.EnneagramandMarriage.com Find all things Enneagram & Marriage on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/enneagramandmarriage/?hl=en Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Series: Grazing and GazingWeek: 1Scripture: Psalm 63:1-11Preacher: Seth Brill

We're back with another deep and unscripted AMA episode; just me and my amazing wife, Alyson Charles Storey, answering your most thought-provoking questions on everything from food freedom to fluoride, spiritual sovereignty, and what it means to live in harmony with the Earth. This is one of those wide-ranging, no-topic-off-limits convos where we share personal stories, strong opinions, and grounded practices that help us navigate a chaotic world with more awareness and integrity.It's real, it's raw, and it's packed with gems—whether you're here for the spiritual downloads, clean food protocols, or just a good laugh with a couple who've seen (and tried) a lot. Check out Alyson's Animal Power book and deck, plus free guided drumming shamanic journey to meet your power animal, at alysoncharles.com/animalpower.DISCLAIMER: This podcast is for educational purposes only and not intended for diagnosing or treating illnesses. The hosts disclaim responsibility for any adverse effects from using the information presented. Consult your healthcare provider before using referenced products. This podcast may include paid endorsements.THIS SHOW IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY:BEAM MINERALS | Use code LUKE for 20% off your order at lukestorey.com/beamKORRECT | Go to korrectlife.com/luke and use code LUKE to get 15% offLEELA QUANTUM TECH | Go to lukestorey.com/leelaq and use code LUKE10 for 10% off their product lineLIMITLESS LIVING MD | Book your free consultation today at limitlesslivingmd.com/luke and use code LUKE for 12% off your first orderMORE ABOUT THIS EPISODE:(00:00:00) Purifying Your Life Through Water: A Deep Dive into Filtration(00:16:32) The Power of Deuterium-Depleted Water(00:27:09) Sunrise, Sun Gazing, & the Free Biohack You're Missing(00:40:51) Addiction, Rock Bottom, & the Long Road to Grace(01:11:11) Reconnecting to the Divine After Trauma(01:25:24) Addiction, Boundaries, & Endogenous Healing(01:52:56) Boosting Testosterone Naturally (Yes, Even There)Resources:• Website: alysoncharles.com • Instagram: instagram.com/iamalysoncharles • Facebook: facebook.com/rockstarshaman • X: x.com/alysoncharles • TikTok: tiktok.com/@shamanalysoncharles • YouTube: youtube.com/@alysonstorey • Shop all our merch designs at lukestoreymerch.com• Check out Gilded By Luke Storey:

Play along at home with the lyrics:[Verse 1]Nights in white satin, never reaching the endLetters I've written, never meaning to sendBeauty I'd always missed with these eyes beforeJust what the truth is, I can't say anymore[Chorus]'Cause I love youYes, I love youOh, how I love you, oh [Verse 2]Gazing at people, some hand in handJust what I'm going through, they can't understandSome try to tell me thoughts they cannot defendJust what you want to be, you will be in the end[Chorus]And I love youYes, I love youOh, how I love youOh, how I love you [Flute Solo][Verse 3 repeat of 1][Chorus]'Cause I love youYes, I love youOh, how I love youOh, how I love you-oh'Cause I love youYes, I love youOh, how I love youOh, how I love you-ohJump to section:(00:12) Introduction but no waffling like you get on some podcasts. You know the ones.(01:51) Song title, writers' details, rubbish about cricket etc.(06:20) To the lyrics. - Peter mansplains us through with his pedantic theory about petty complaints and incels(21:46) Dave takes us through his theory involving do-it-yourself (DIY) projects(31:52) The artist's comments(39:39) Other theories from the internet(52:03) Misheard Lyrics(54:22) Notable Trivia(58:27) Farewells and ⁠⁠⁠give us money⁠⁠⁠Would you like to appear (well, vocally) on the show? Do you have a pop song or ear-worm from the SMOOTH FM genre that's infested your mind and needs to be investigated? Visit this page ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://speakpipe.com/lyrics⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to record us your own voicemail hot-take on your specific smooth song of suckiness. You could be on a future episode! (you can always email sound files or text your thoughts to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠poidadavis@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ if that's easier). Cheers!Find us on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram etc @LyricsPodast ... and we're on all your favourite podcasting platforms.Sound clips are included for educational reference, criticism, satire and parody in fair use. Clips remain the property of the respective rights holder and no endorsement is implied. All information and opinion is performed and expressed in-character and does not reflect reality or genuine commentary on any persons (living or dead), bands or other organisations, or their works, and is not recommended listening for anyone, anywhere.

Part two of the "Gazing Out Of The Window" series. Pastor Richard gives an overview of the series. We have become CAUGHT UP in small, narrow and SELF-ABSORBED mindsets. We can't forget our PRIMARY PURPOSE to REACH LOST and BROKEN people around you.