Podcasts about gods

The plagues of Egypt directly targeted Egypt's false gods, proving the superiority of Israel's God. Each plague dismantled the supposed power of a particular deity, leaving no doubt that the true Creator rules over all. To support this ministry financially, visit: https://www.oneplace.com/donate/1232/29?v=20251111

In this Bible Story, Paul is nearly stoned to death by Jewish Christians who seek to control Gentiles by the law. They are dangerous and controlling. Yet Paul does not let the stones stop him. This story is inspired by Acts 14. Go to BibleinaYear.com and learn the Bible in a Year.Today's Bible verse is Acts 14:19 from the King James Version.Episode 229: As Paul and Barnabas entered Iconium to preach, both Jews and Gentiles were receptive and restored by the message of love and mercy in Jesus that they brought. But not everyone in the city was happy about this change. Certain men of influence added poison to these teachings and stirred the people against Paul and Barnabas. So they fled to Lystra where they healed a man and were called gods by the men of the city. Just as Paul and Barnabas convinced the crowd that they were mere men, the elders of Antioch came and captured Paul, bringing him out to the city to be stoned. But because of what God did for him, Paul went right back to the city the next day to continue preaching the good news of Jesus.Hear the Bible come to life as Pastor Jack Graham leads you through the official BibleinaYear.com podcast. This Biblical Audio Experience will help you master wisdom from the world’s greatest book. In each episode, you will learn to apply Biblical principles to everyday life. Now understanding the Bible is easier than ever before; enjoy a cinematic audio experience full of inspirational storytelling, orchestral music, and profound commentary from world-renowned Pastor Jack Graham.Also, you can download the Pray.com app for more Christian content, including, Daily Prayers, Inspirational Testimonies, and Bedtime Bible Stories.Visit JackGraham.org for more resources on how to tap into God's power for successful Christian living.Pray.com is the digital destination of faith. With over 5,000 daily prayers, meditations, bedtime stories, and cinematic stories inspired by the Bible, the Pray.com app has everything you need to keep your focus on the Lord. Make Prayer a priority and download the #1 App for Prayer and Sleep today in the Apple app store or Google Play store.Executive Producers: Steve Gatena & Max BardProducer: Ben GammonHosted by: Pastor Jack GrahamMusic by: Andrew Morgan SmithBible Story narration by: Todd HaberkornSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

820 And An Angel of the Lord Appeared to Them, A Guided Christian Meditation on Luke 2:7-9 with the Recenter With Christ app The purpose of this podcast is to help you find more peace in  and connect with the true source of peace, Jesus Christ.  Outline: Relaxation, Reading, Meditation, Prayer, Contemplation and Visualization.  You can sit comfortably and uninterrupted for about 20 minutes.You should hopefully not be driving or anything tense or unrelaxing.  If you feel comfortable to do so, I invite you to close your eyes.   Guided Relaxation / Guided Meditation:   Breathe and direct your thoughts to connecting with God. Let your stomach be a balloon inflate,  deflate. Scripture for Meditation Luke 2  NIV 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. NASB 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. 8 In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock at night.9 And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood near them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. Reflection on Scripture: God does not need your validation. He doesn't need human clout. The Son of God was laid in a food box for animals instead of a bassinet or crib. Jesus did not use his influence to avoid personal hardship. God doesn't need human legitimacy. He didn't send his son to a golden throne but was born during a tax audit during a time of subjugation of Gods people.  Then instead of sending word to the kings and emperors of the world he shared the news with humble shepherds. He didn't need the approval of nations and people. He had angels to declare the glorious message. I don't think we recognize this in our lives.  God doesn't need the approval of the world. He doesn't need to convince the world. He rules the heavens and has power to crush or burn the earth. He chooses to allow us to know about plans. He uses whatever means he chooses. The same applies to your life. He doesn't need our validation. He doesn't need your effort but rather we should glorify God because he is worthy of it.  Meditation of Prayer: Pray as directed by the Spirit. Dedicate these moments to the patient waiting, when you feel ready ask God for understanding you desire from Him. Meditation of God and His Glory / Hesychasm: I invite you to sit in silence feeling patient for your own faults and trials. Summarize what insights you have gained during this meditation and meditate and visualize positive change in your life: This is a listener funded podcast at patreon.com/christianmeditationpodcast Final Question: If you consider the invitation and command to persevere in the faith, what change in your life does that bring to your mind?  FIND ME ON: Download my free app: Recenter with Christ Website - ChristianMeditationPodcast.com Voicemail - (602) 888-3795 Email: jared@christianmeditationpodcast.com Apple Podcasts - Christian Meditation Podcast Facebook.com/christianmeditationpodcast Youtube.com/christianmeditaitonpodcast Twitter - @ChristianMedPod  

Something to say? TEXT US, for GODS sake! Well gosh, things sure are moving along at a clip as we wrap up season 5 with episode 22, A House Is Not A Home. Here in part 1 we cover The intervening ~4 episodes since we last spoke, play a little catch up, and set up our scenario: precious Rory is in THE SLAMMER? For stealing a YACHT. So like that's a whoole thing! Support the showJoin our patreon!

IS THE Book of Jasher is worth your time? Dive into mystical tales that some say could hold ancient wisdom and insights into our faith! In the latest episode of Iron and Myth, our esteemed panel, Doug Van Dorn (DouglasVanDorn.com), author of Giants: Sons of the Gods; Brian Godawa (Godawa.com), best-selling author of the theological thriller Cruel Logic, and two new novels based on the period of the Maccabees in Judea; and Dr. Judd Burton (BurtonBeyond.net), author of Interview With the Giant, dives deep into the intriguing Book of Jasher. The title, which translates to the Book of the Upright or the Book of the Just Man, has been a topic of discussion among scholars and enthusiasts alike. Various texts have claimed to be the Book of Jasher throughout history. We focus on a particular translation from the mid-19th century by Moses Samuel, which is believed to be a medieval Jewish text that may not date back further than the 15th century. The Book of Jasher presents a fascinating window into the thoughts and traditions of ancient Jewish scholars. While its origins may be debated, its potential value for enriching our understanding of biblical narratives in beyond question. Whether you are a scholar, a casual reader, or a writer drawing inspiration from ancient texts, exploring the Book of Jasher could provide a deeper appreciation for the complexities of biblical history. 

Hello family! Welcome to today's world, where we're using The AMP Bible. Let's start with Proverbs 16 and Psalms 16.

Hour of destiny daily devotional is a daily spiritual food for inspiration, impartation, guidance, and nourishment for Gods children. It is one of Gods ways of speaking to His children daily about their lives, family, and job.Host - Rev Mike EniolaConnect with us on our official channels.https://www.instagram.com/hourofdestinyTiktok- tiktok.com/@hour.of.destinyTelegram - https://t.me/hourofdestiny_dailyYouTube - https://youtube.com/‎⁨@hourofdestiny⁩  Spotify Subscription https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/hourofdestiny/subscribePLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, GOD BLESS YOU.

Reading Proverbs 16 and Psalms 16 in the AMP

Wat is het Laatste Oordeel?De Wederkomst van Christus geeft Gods Zoon dit geschenk: de Stem namens God te horen verkondigen dat het onware onwaar is, en het ware nooit is veranderd. En dit is het oordeel waarmee waarneming eindigt. Eerst zie je een wereld die dit als waar heeft aanvaard, geprojecteerd vanuit een nu gecorrigeerde denkgeest. En met dit heilige zicht geeft waarneming een stille zegen en verdwijnt daarna; haar doel is bereikt en haar missie volbracht.Het eindoordeel over de wereld bevat geen veroordeling. Want het ziet de wereld als totaal vergeven, zonder zonde en volslagen nutteloos. Zonder oorzaak en nu zonder functie in de visie van Christus verglijdt ze eenvoudig in het niets. Daar werd ze geboren en daar eindigt ze ook. En alle figuren in de droom waarmee de wereld begon, verdwijnen met haar. Lichamen zijn nu onbruikbaar en zullen dan ook oplossen in het niets, want de Zoon van God is onbegrensd.Jij die geloofde dat het Laatste Oordeel van God de wereld samen met jou zou veroordelen tot de hel, aanvaard deze heilige waarheid: Gods Oordeel is het geschenk van de Correctie die Hij aan al jouw dwalingen heeft verleend, en die jou daarvan en van alle gevolgen die ze ooit maar scheen te hebben, bevrijdt. Bang zijn voor Gods verlossende genade is niets anders dan bang zijn voor totale bevrijding van alle lijden, voor de terugkeer tot vrede, zekerheid en geluk, en voor eenwording met jouw eigen Identiteit.Gods Eindoordeel is even genadig als iedere stap in het door Hemzelf vastgestelde plan om Zijn Zoon te zegenen en hem op te roepen terug te keren tot de eeuwige vrede die Hij met hem deelt. Wees niet bang voor liefde. Want zij alleen kan alle leed genezen, alle tranen wegwissen en de Zoon die God als de Zijne erkent zachtjes doen ontwaken uit zijn droom van pijn. Wees niet bang hiervoor. De verlossing vraagt jou haar welkom te heten. En de wereld wacht op jouw blije aanvaarding die haar bevrijden zal.Dit is Gods Eindoordeel: ‘Jij bent nog altijd Mijn heilige Zoon, voor immer onschuldig, eeuwig liefdevol en eeuwig geliefd, even onbegrensd als jouw Schepper, totaal onveranderlijk en voor altijd zuiver. Ontwaak daarom en keer terug tot Mij. Ik ben jouw Vader en jij bent Mijn Zoon.'LES 320Mijn Vader verleent mij alle macht.De Zoon van God is onbeperkt. Er zijn geen beperkingen aan zijn kracht, zijn vrede, zijn vreugde, of aan welke eigenschap ook die zijn Vader hem bij zijn schepping schonk. Wat hij samen met zijn Schepper en Verlosser wil, moet geschieden. Zijn heilige wil kan nooit verloochend worden, omdat zijn Vader Zijn Licht laat stralen over zijn denkgeest, waarvoor Hij alle macht en liefde op aarde als in de Hemel legt. Ik ben degene aan wie dit alles is gegeven. Ik ben degene in wie de kracht van mijn Vaders Wil verblijft.Uw Wil vermag alles in mij, en breidt zich vervolgens via mij tot heel de wereld uit. Uw Wil kent geen beperking. En aldus is alle macht gegeven aan Uw Zoon.Alle tekst- werk en handboek klassen van Een Cursus in Wonderen met Elbert nu te beluisteren en te bekijken op https://decursusmetelbert.nl

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

The Detective by Matthew Reilly: Matt Reilly is well known for the thrillers he's been writing for many years now, but this one is quite a departure. It's based in the American South and is the story of many women going missing over a period of 150 years, starting back in 1877….and the investigators looking for them all also disappeared. It's set in the nexus of Louisiana and Texas, where a quirky private detective gets the bit between his teeth and is determined to get to the bottom of it, and it has all the hallmarks of the area – wealthy family dynasties, racism, bayous and alligators and high stakes adventure. The Breath of the Gods by Simon Winchester. A remarkable exploration of our atmosphere, and the role played in our lives by wind – which can be both benign and malevolent. It's a fascinating story told through history, literature, science, poetry and engineering – and includes a piece on our own Wahine disaster. Simon Winchester has an ability to make the everyday and apparently mundane, extraordinary. It's a wonderful book. LISTEN ABOVESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Church Online 16th Nov 25 Matt Thorp Gods plan to reach the world by WDBC

Soms, soms denk je iemand te kennen. En dat blijkt dan toch niet zo te zijn. Dan ken je de brieven, de verhalen die over de persoon worden verteld. Maar wat is het verhaal van de persoon zelf? We gaan weer verder met de avonturen van Paulus. En wat een verhaal weer. Boze mensenmassa's, stieren die geofferd gaan worden en een steniging. Wat een verhaal. Luister nu de nieuwste aflevering van Gelukkig De Mens: Paulus Deel 2 via #spotify, #pocketcasts, #applepodcasts, www.gelukkigdemens.nl/195-paulus-deel-1 in je eigen podcastapp. Handelingen 15 Ook in Ikonium bezochten ze de synagoge van de Joden, en ook daar kwam een groot aantal mensen, Joden zowel als Grieken, door hun verkondiging tot geloof. Maar er waren ook Joden die niets van hun boodschap wilden weten; zij deden hun best om bij de niet-Joden een vijandige stemming jegens de gelovigen te kweken. Paulus en Barnabas bleven geruime tijd in de stad en spraken vrijmoedig over Gods woord, vol vertrouwen in de Heer, die de verkondiging van zijn genade kracht bijzette door hen tekenen en wonderen te laten verrichten. Er ontstond echter verdeeldheid onder de inwoners van de stad, van wie sommigen partij kozen voor de Joden en anderen voor de apostelen. Toen Paulus en Barnabas merkten dat Joden en niet-Joden samen met hun leiders op het punt stonden om geweld te gebruiken en hen wilden stenigen, vluchtten ze naar Lykaonië, waar ze in de steden Lystra en Derbe en omstreken het evangelie verkondigden.

Today's soul story is called The Impossible Dream. It's a little snippet of my story and my experience when I ran my clothing and bag line, Bahian Gypsy Bags and Accessories. It's a prophetic call to rise, to walk by faith, and to embrace the welcoming timing of your becoming. Remember: You are loved. You are chosen. You are enough. The bible says there is a time for everything in Ecclesiastes 3:1. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: I want you to remember the sun always sets in the west and no matter what you have been trying God's in it. Gods got it and if it's in alignment with the Father's will, then He will flourish it. So, stop running east when you can run to Him to help you finish it. The Impossible Dream is a Soul Story based on Faith, Sisterhood, and Divine Possibility A soul-stirring reflection on rising by faith, embracing divine timing, and saluting the women within.In a nutshell it's saying be resilient, keep going, press in, don't give up, change something if it's doesn't work and try another but submit your plans to God and do not quit.As I said before something is brewing. So, let me break it up for you. Into The Garden is our Podcast Ministry division. @Into The Garden - it's our line for Christian inspiration and many more. So, pop on over to our page as we do our best to update and rearrange.We hope you enjoyed this episode.  God, bless you Go Rise Up! Salomé JacobsFounderInto The Garden Podcast Ministry

We gaan verder met de serie "Stadskerk vol liefde", een serie over Gods liefde bekeken vanuit drie kanten: je relatie met God, je relatie met anderen en je relatie met jezelf. Deze zondag kijken we naar Gods liefde voor ons in relatie tot anderen, aan de hand van een bijbel tekst uit Johannes 13:34 "Ik geef jullie een nieuw gebod: heb elkaar lief. Zoals Ik jullie heb liefgehad, zo moeten jullie elkaar liefhebben." Gods liefde voor ons is niet bedoeld om voor onszelf te houden. Het is de maatstaf voor hoe we anderen benaderen: met genade, vergeving en geduld. Door Zijn liefde wordt onze omgang met anderen zachter, oprechter en minder gericht op onszelf.

Velen maken de vergissing om het geloof in genezing als vervanging te zien voor het daadwerkelijk innemen van Gods medicijn – Zijn Woord. Zij zeggen, "Ik geloof in genezing," zonder het Woord te gebruiken of toe te passen. Hoeveel goeds kan een medicijn voor ons doen als we het niet innemen? Gods Woord is Zijn medicijn – het werkt genezend, net zoals het gewone medicijn een geneesmiddel is. Met andere woorden het geneesmiddel zelf bevat het vermogen om genezing te produceren. Evenzo bevat Gods Woord de capaciteit, het leven, het vermogen en de aard om genezing te bewerkstelligen in je lichaam. Dus hoe neem je het in? Alleen wanneer Gods Woord in je hart geworteld is en in je blijft, kan het in je lichaam genezing produceren. Met kennis alleen kom je er niet. De Bijbelverzen moeten je verstand en hart doordrenken door overdenking, door ze te lezen, te horen, te overpeinzen en ze voortdurend door je gedachten te laten gaan - om genezing te produceren in je lichaam. En zodra het Woord werkelijk je hart doordringt, kan het gezondheid brengen voor al het vlees. Laat het Woord van God vandaag diep in je hart wortelen.

This week on MYTH, we're off to Eastern Europe for a Slavic mix of several traditional tales. You'll discover that military pensions suck, that breaking and entering is a good idea, and that you should drink wine with demons. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a monster hunted by the Witcher will sneak into your bedroom to drain your blood and infest your nightmares. Source: Russian/Slavic Folklore

Daniel W. Wright is a poet, editor, and fiction writer. Wright is the author of poetry chapbook Gods of a Former World (Crying Heart Press, 2025), the full-length poetry collection The Unheard Music (Kung Fu Treachery, 2025), and the novel Call Center (Back of the Class, 2024). He is also the author of four other full-length collections of poetry, five poetry chapbooks, a novella, a short story collection, and co-author of four poetry splits. His work has appeared in numerous print and online journals including Chiron Review, Book of Matches, and Gasconade Review. Wright currently resides in St. Louis, MO where you can usually find him in a bar or a bookstore.

Subscribe for more Videos: http://www.youtube.com/c/PlantationSDAChurchTV Theme: With Gods love you can’t falter. God's love is rock solid. Speaker: Caleb Jones Title: Gods Love Is Unshakable Key text: https://www.bible.com/bible/59/ISA.28.16.esv Bulletin/Notes: http://bible.com/events/49520953 Date: November 15, 2025 Tags: #psdatv #love #rock #solid #unshakeable #foundation #falter #stumble #RockSolid For more life lessons and inspirational content, please visit us at http://www.plantationsda.tv. Church Copyright License (CCLI): 1659090 CCLI Streaming Plus License: 21338439Support the show: https://adventistgiving.org/#/org/ANTBMV/envelope/startSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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Hour of destiny daily devotional is a daily spiritual food for inspiration, impartation, guidance, and nourishment for Gods children. It is one of Gods ways of speaking to His children daily about their lives, family, and job.Host - Rev Mike EniolaConnect with us on our official channels.https://www.instagram.com/hourofdestinyTiktok- tiktok.com/@hour.of.destinyTelegram - https://t.me/hourofdestiny_dailyYouTube - https://youtube.com/‎⁨@hourofdestiny⁩  Spotify Subscription https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/hourofdestiny/subscribePLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, GOD BLESS YOU.

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Wat is het Laatste Oordeel?De Wederkomst van Christus geeft Gods Zoon dit geschenk: de Stem namens God te horen verkondigen dat het onware onwaar is, en het ware nooit is veranderd. En dit is het oordeel waarmee waarneming eindigt. Eerst zie je een wereld die dit als waar heeft aanvaard, geprojecteerd vanuit een nu gecorrigeerde denkgeest. En met dit heilige zicht geeft waarneming een stille zegen en verdwijnt daarna; haar doel is bereikt en haar missie volbracht.Het eindoordeel over de wereld bevat geen veroordeling. Want het ziet de wereld als totaal vergeven, zonder zonde en volslagen nutteloos. Zonder oorzaak en nu zonder functie in de visie van Christus verglijdt ze eenvoudig in het niets. Daar werd ze geboren en daar eindigt ze ook. En alle figuren in de droom waarmee de wereld begon, verdwijnen met haar. Lichamen zijn nu onbruikbaar en zullen dan ook oplossen in het niets, want de Zoon van God is onbegrensd.Jij die geloofde dat het Laatste Oordeel van God de wereld samen met jou zou veroordelen tot de hel, aanvaard deze heilige waarheid: Gods Oordeel is het geschenk van de Correctie die Hij aan al jouw dwalingen heeft verleend, en die jou daarvan en van alle gevolgen die ze ooit maar scheen te hebben, bevrijdt. Bang zijn voor Gods verlossende genade is niets anders dan bang zijn voor totale bevrijding van alle lijden, voor de terugkeer tot vrede, zekerheid en geluk, en voor eenwording met jouw eigen Identiteit.Gods Eindoordeel is even genadig als iedere stap in het door Hemzelf vastgestelde plan om Zijn Zoon te zegenen en hem op te roepen terug te keren tot de eeuwige vrede die Hij met hem deelt. Wees niet bang voor liefde. Want zij alleen kan alle leed genezen, alle tranen wegwissen en de Zoon die God als de Zijne erkent zachtjes doen ontwaken uit zijn droom van pijn. Wees niet bang hiervoor. De verlossing vraagt jou haar welkom te heten. En de wereld wacht op jouw blije aanvaarding die haar bevrijden zal.Dit is Gods Eindoordeel: ‘Jij bent nog altijd Mijn heilige Zoon, voor immer onschuldig, eeuwig liefdevol en eeuwig geliefd, even onbegrensd als jouw Schepper, totaal onveranderlijk en voor altijd zuiver. Ontwaak daarom en keer terug tot Mij. Ik ben jouw Vader en jij bent Mijn Zoon.'LES 319Ik ben gekomen voor de verlossing van de wereld.Hier is een gedachte waaruit alle arrogantie weggenomen is en waarin alleen de waarheid overblijft. Want arrogantie is in strijd met de waarheid. Maar wanneer er geen arrogantie is, zal de waarheid onmiddellijk komen om de ruimte in te nemen die het ego door leugens onbezet liet. Alleen het ego kan beperkt zijn en daarom moet het doelen zoeken die begrensd en beperkend zijn. Het ego denkt dat wat de één wint, de totaliteit moet verliezen. En toch is het de Wil van God dat ik leer dat wat de één wint aan allen wordt gegeven.Vader, Uw Wil is totaal. En het doel dat daaruit voortvloeit deelt die totaliteit. Welk ander doel dan de verlossing van de wereld kon U mij hebben gegeven? En wat anders kon de Wil zijn die mijn Zelf met U deelt?Alle tekst- werk en handboek klassen van Een Cursus in Wonderen met Elbert nu te beluisteren en te bekijken op https://decursusmetelbert.nl

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

Je herkent Gods wonderen in je eigen leven en zingt een nieuw lied van dankbaarheid. Net zoals David in Psalm 40 gered werd van de dood, ervoer ook Petrus zijn bevrijding. Vind jij inspiratie in psalmen voor je eigen gebeden en verhalen?

The Jordan River wasn't a wall- it was a threshold. On one side was the wilderness; on the other, the promise. God told Joshua, ' When your feet touch the water, the river will part." Everythreshold demands faith. You can;t wait for the waters to movee- you have to step first. The tension you feel isn't reisstance; it's transistion. Don't camp at the edge of what Gods about to do. Ctoss over. Join us this Sunday as we learn. " The Threshhold is where the past ends and the pormise begins." Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this Episode:Why Requesting the Saints Intercession is an Act of Honor - Not Worship...Diocesan Staff Apologist and Speaker for Catholic Answers, Dr. Karlo Broussard, explains the Why's behind Catholic Beliefs from Faith, Morality, and Culture. Providing the Reasons behind the claims made by the Catholic Church. Send your questions to...Karlo@stmichaelradio.comA Production of St. Michael Catholic RadioThe Catholic Reason Airs Every Thursday on 94.9 St Michael Catholic Radio at 4 p.m. CST.

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“Cuando un barco se hunde en cualquiera de los siete mares, se hace una anotación en el libro de Lloyd's y repica la vieja campana. Durante un tiempo, me gustó entrar en el gran vestíbulo para observar el trajín matutino y acercarme a la famosa campana. Lloyd's nació en 1688 en un café de Tower Street en el que se reunían banqueros, navieros y comerciantes para hacer negocios. El dueño, Edward Lloyd, llegó a publicar un periódico con lo que escuchaba a la clientela. El seguro como negocio sistemático se inventó en aquel café”. Así lo cuenta Enric González en mi guía favorita de Londres. Este es un podcast sobre el funcionamiento de las aseguradoras en el incierto mercado.Antiguos episodios.K158. Álvaro Conesa. Underconsumption.Kapital es posible gracias a sus colaboradores:Smartick. El método online de matemáticas y lectura.¿Quieres el mejor futuro para tus hijos? En deporte, España es una potencia mundial, pero en matemáticas y comprensión lectora sigue sin remontar en PISA. Tú puedes cambiar eso para tus hijos. Si tienen entre 4 y 14 años, con Smartick conseguirán dominar los pilares de su educación: matemáticas, comprensión lectora, escribir bien y con claridad, pensamiento crítico. Solo 15 minutos y listos, con un método online personalizado y basado en evidencias científicas. Detrás hay más de 100 expertos en didáctica, empeñados en que tus hijos alcancen su máximo potencial. Cada día recibirás un informe con su evolución y la posibilidad de consultar en todo momento con el equipo. Smartick fomenta la constancia, el gusto por el reto, los buenos hábitos… y también un uso responsable de la tecnología.Prueba 7 días gratis y, si contratas, consigue un precio especial añadiendo el código KAPITAL.⁠Balance Phone⁠. El móvil sin distracciones.Balance Phone nace como una rebelión contra la dependencia digital. Un teléfono sin redes, sin juegos, sin algoritmos que compiten por tu atención. Solo lo esencial. Diseñado para familias que quieren dar un primer móvil sin riesgos a sus hijos y para minimalistas digitales que quieren recuperar el control. No es un Nokia. Es un Samsung con sistema operativo propio, el Balance OS, que bloquea de raíz todo contenido adictivo (redes, pornografía, juegos, apuestas y streaming) y simplifica la interfaz para que usarlo sea una decisión, no un reflejo. 9 meses después de su lanzamiento más de 3.000 persones ya usan Balance Phone. Y lo más importante, con un tiempo de uso diario de 1 hora y 41 minutos, 3 horas por debajo de la media.En Balance Phone no quieren que vivas sin móvil. Quieren que vivas mejor con él.Utiliza el código KAPITAL en su fantástica web para obtener un descuento de 20€.Patrocina Kapital. Toda la información en este link.Índice:0:32 Las regulaciones siempre protegen a las empresas grandes.8:52 La apuesta de Albert en el sector de los seguros médicos.12:24 Síntesis del negocio bancario.26:48 La inflación es el incremento de la masa monetaria.38:35 ¿Quién está detrás de Apollo?49:40 La argentinización del mundo.57:42 El economista es como un médico.1:04:42 ¿Cuál es el seguro para una guerra nuclear?1:16:21 La campana de Lloyd's.1:30:15 El cálculo económico de los austríacos.1:41:40 Carteras con aversión a las pérdidas. 1:48:12 Se retirará Álvaro antes de que saquen el GTA6.Apuntes:Actualidad & Bolsa. Álvaro Conesa.Historias de Londres. Enric González.La gran apuesta. Adam McKay.Margin call. J.C. Chandor.Against the Gods. Peter Bernstein.El cisne negro. Nassim Nicholas Taleb.

Hour of destiny daily devotional is a daily spiritual food for inspiration, impartation, guidance, and nourishment for Gods children. It is one of Gods ways of speaking to His children daily about their lives, family, and job.Host - Rev Mike EniolaConnect with us on our official channels.https://www.instagram.com/hourofdestinyTiktok- tiktok.com/@hour.of.destinyTelegram - https://t.me/hourofdestiny_dailyYouTube - https://youtube.com/‎⁨@hourofdestiny⁩  Spotify Subscription https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/hourofdestiny/subscribePLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, GOD BLESS YOU.

Wat is het Laatste Oordeel?De Wederkomst van Christus geeft Gods Zoon dit geschenk: de Stem namens God te horen verkondigen dat het onware onwaar is, en het ware nooit is veranderd. En dit is het oordeel waarmee waarneming eindigt. Eerst zie je een wereld die dit als waar heeft aanvaard, geprojecteerd vanuit een nu gecorrigeerde denkgeest. En met dit heilige zicht geeft waarneming een stille zegen en verdwijnt daarna; haar doel is bereikt en haar missie volbracht.Het eindoordeel over de wereld bevat geen veroordeling. Want het ziet de wereld als totaal vergeven, zonder zonde en volslagen nutteloos. Zonder oorzaak en nu zonder functie in de visie van Christus verglijdt ze eenvoudig in het niets. Daar werd ze geboren en daar eindigt ze ook. En alle figuren in de droom waarmee de wereld begon, verdwijnen met haar. Lichamen zijn nu onbruikbaar en zullen dan ook oplossen in het niets, want de Zoon van God is onbegrensd.Jij die geloofde dat het Laatste Oordeel van God de wereld samen met jou zou veroordelen tot de hel, aanvaard deze heilige waarheid: Gods Oordeel is het geschenk van de Correctie die Hij aan al jouw dwalingen heeft verleend, en die jou daarvan en van alle gevolgen die ze ooit maar scheen te hebben, bevrijdt. Bang zijn voor Gods verlossende genade is niets anders dan bang zijn voor totale bevrijding van alle lijden, voor de terugkeer tot vrede, zekerheid en geluk, en voor eenwording met jouw eigen Identiteit.Gods Eindoordeel is even genadig als iedere stap in het door Hemzelf vastgestelde plan om Zijn Zoon te zegenen en hem op te roepen terug te keren tot de eeuwige vrede die Hij met hem deelt. Wees niet bang voor liefde. Want zij alleen kan alle leed genezen, alle tranen wegwissen en de Zoon die God als de Zijne erkent zachtjes doen ontwaken uit zijn droom van pijn. Wees niet bang hiervoor. De verlossing vraagt jou haar welkom te heten. En de wereld wacht op jouw blije aanvaarding die haar bevrijden zal.Dit is Gods Eindoordeel: ‘Jij bent nog altijd Mijn heilige Zoon, voor immer onschuldig, eeuwig liefdevol en eeuwig geliefd, even onbegrensd als jouw Schepper, totaal onveranderlijk en voor altijd zuiver. Ontwaak daarom en keer terug tot Mij. Ik ben jouw Vader en jij bent Mijn Zoon.'LES 318In mij zijn middel en doel van de verlossing één.In mij, Gods heilige Zoon, zijn alle onderdelen van het hemelse plan om de wereld te verlossen in harmonie gebracht. Wat zou er in conflict kunnen zijn, wanneer alle onderdelen slechts één bedoeling hebben en één doel? Hoe zou er één enkel onderdeel kunnen zijn dat op zichzelf staat, of één dat van meer of van minder belang is dan de rest? Ik ben het middel waardoor Gods Zoon wordt verlost, want het doel van de verlossing is de zondeloosheid te vinden die God in mij heeft geplaatst. Ik werd geschapen als hetgeen ik zoek. Ik ben het doel waarnaar de wereld streeft. Ik ben Gods Zoon, Zijn ene, eeuwige Liefde. Ik ben zowel middel als doel van de verlossing.Mijn Vader, laat mij vandaag de rol op me nemen die U mij aanbiedt door Uw verzoek dat ik de Verzoening voor mijzelf aanvaard. Want zo wordt datgene wat daardoor in mij in harmonie wordt gebracht, even zeker met U in harmonie gebracht.Alle tekst- werk en handboek klassen van Een Cursus in Wonderen met Elbert nu te beluisteren en te bekijken op https://decursusmetelbert.nl

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If you enjoy this episode, we're sure you will enjoy more content like this on The Occult Rejects.  In fact, we have curated playlists on occult topics like grimoires, esoteric concepts and phenomena, occult history, analyzing true crime and cults with an occult lens, Para politics, and occultism in music. Whether you enjoy consuming your content visually or via audio, we've got you covered - and it will always be provided free of charge.  So, if you enjoy what we do and want to support our work of providing accessible, free content on various platforms, please consider making a donation to the links provided below.  Thank you and enjoy the episode!Links For The Occult Rejects and The Spiritual Gangsters https://linktr.ee/theoccultrejectsOccult Research Institutehttps://www.occultresearchinstitute.org/Cash Apphttps://cash.app/$theoccultrejectsVenmo@TheOccultRejectsBuy Me A Coffeebuymeacoffee.com/TheOccultRejectsPatreon  / theoccultrejects  Events The Occult Rejects will be atOctober 18th - Charlies Beyond Belief at Tropical Lodge 56 F & AM Fort Myers, FLhttps://www.charliesbeyond.com/October 25-26, ARKANSAS PARANORMAL EXPO at 503 East Ninth, Little Rock, ARhttps://www.arkansasparanormalexpo.com/

In This Video I Help You:✨Get clear on how to know if you're in the WRONG relationship✨How to know if it's your will vs Gods will.✨How a good relationship SHOULD feel. Our Next Steps Together:

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Hour of destiny daily devotional is a daily spiritual food for inspiration, impartation, guidance, and nourishment for Gods children. It is one of Gods ways of speaking to His children daily about their lives, family, and job.Host - Rev Mike EniolaConnect with us on our official channels.https://www.instagram.com/hourofdestinyTiktok- tiktok.com/@hour.of.destinyTelegram - https://t.me/hourofdestiny_dailyYouTube - https://youtube.com/‎⁨@hourofdestiny⁩  Spotify Subscription https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/hourofdestiny/subscribePLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, GOD BLESS YOU.

Wat is het Laatste Oordeel?De Wederkomst van Christus geeft Gods Zoon dit geschenk: de Stem namens God te horen verkondigen dat het onware onwaar is, en het ware nooit is veranderd. En dit is het oordeel waarmee waarneming eindigt. Eerst zie je een wereld die dit als waar heeft aanvaard, geprojecteerd vanuit een nu gecorrigeerde denkgeest. En met dit heilige zicht geeft waarneming een stille zegen en verdwijnt daarna; haar doel is bereikt en haar missie volbracht.Het eindoordeel over de wereld bevat geen veroordeling. Want het ziet de wereld als totaal vergeven, zonder zonde en volslagen nutteloos. Zonder oorzaak en nu zonder functie in de visie van Christus verglijdt ze eenvoudig in het niets. Daar werd ze geboren en daar eindigt ze ook. En alle figuren in de droom waarmee de wereld begon, verdwijnen met haar. Lichamen zijn nu onbruikbaar en zullen dan ook oplossen in het niets, want de Zoon van God is onbegrensd.Jij die geloofde dat het Laatste Oordeel van God de wereld samen met jou zou veroordelen tot de hel, aanvaard deze heilige waarheid: Gods Oordeel is het geschenk van de Correctie die Hij aan al jouw dwalingen heeft verleend, en die jou daarvan en van alle gevolgen die ze ooit maar scheen te hebben, bevrijdt. Bang zijn voor Gods verlossende genade is niets anders dan bang zijn voor totale bevrijding van alle lijden, voor de terugkeer tot vrede, zekerheid en geluk, en voor eenwording met jouw eigen Identiteit.Gods Eindoordeel is even genadig als iedere stap in het door Hemzelf vastgestelde plan om Zijn Zoon te zegenen en hem op te roepen terug te keren tot de eeuwige vrede die Hij met hem deelt. Wees niet bang voor liefde. Want zij alleen kan alle leed genezen, alle tranen wegwissen en de Zoon die God als de Zijne erkent zachtjes doen ontwaken uit zijn droom van pijn. Wees niet bang hiervoor. De verlossing vraagt jou haar welkom te heten. En de wereld wacht op jouw blije aanvaarding die haar bevrijden zal.Dit is Gods Eindoordeel: ‘Jij bent nog altijd Mijn heilige Zoon, voor immer onschuldig, eeuwig liefdevol en eeuwig geliefd, even onbegrensd als jouw Schepper, totaal onveranderlijk en voor altijd zuiver. Ontwaak daarom en keer terug tot Mij. Ik ben jouw Vader en jij bent Mijn Zoon.'LES 317Ik volg de mij aangewezen weg.Ik heb een speciale plaats in te nemen, een rol voor mij alleen. De verlossing wacht tot ik deze rol aanneem als wat ik verkies te doen. Totdat ik deze keuze maak, ben ik de slaaf van tijd en menselijk lot. Maar wanneer ik bereidwillig en graag de weg ga die mijn Vaders plan voor mij heeft aangewezen, dan zal ik inzien dat de verlossing hier al is, al mijn broeders al gegeven is en ook mij reeds toebehoort.Vader, Uw weg kies ik vandaag. Waar die me heenleidt, verkies ik te gaan; wat die me wil laten doen, verkies ik te doen. Uw weg is zeker en het eind staat vast. De herinnering van U wacht mij daar op. En al mijn verdriet eindigt in Uw omarming, die U beloofd hebt aan Uw Zoon, die ten onrechte dacht dat hij van de veilige bescherming van Uw liefdevolle Armen was afgedwaald.Alle tekst- werk en handboek klassen van Een Cursus in Wonderen met Elbert nu te beluisteren en te bekijken op https://decursusmetelbert.nl

Welcome back!Last week Pastor Cyndi talked about how to exercise restraint, including how to take everything to God in prayer. We also learned about getting to the bottom of impulse spending! Getting financially fit is so important for Believers, so that we can show God that we will be good stewards of the funds He gives us to impact the world around us, so go back and listen to the episode if you missed anything!In todays episode of Have You Heard? Pastor Cyndi concludes the four part series that is vital for the upcoming Christmas/Thanksgiving/New Years season...Kingdom Finances.In episode 4 of this series Pastor Cyndi talks about having meditating on Gods provision for us. God can provide for us and we don't have to worry or wonder about how God will do it, just Believe Him!Don't forget to head over to cynthiagarrisministries.com/resources to get your free download and follow along with Pastor CyndiKeep up with the latest from Pastor Cyndi by stopping by her websites or following her on social media!Our socials:TikTok: @cgministriesInsta/Threads/FB: cynthiagarrisministriesYT: Cynthia Garris MinistriesFor more:CGMStreet TalkersOur authors:A. Bean (@awritingbean on all platform)Valicity Elaine (@valicityelaine on all platforms)

Join our Supporters Club:https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/greyhorn-pagans-podcast--6047518/supportJoin us on the Greyhorn Pagans podcast as we explore into the intriguing concept of the bicameral mind, a theory suggesting that ancient humans experienced divine guidance through auditory hallucinations.Explore how this mindset influenced human consciousness, spirituality, and mental health, and discover its relevance in modern psychology.Whether you're a psychology enthusiast or curious about the evolution of self-awareness, this episode offers a captivating journey into the depths of human thought.Don't forget to subscribe and support us for more mind-opening content!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Greyhorn Pagans:Support us on PatreonVisit our website for moreShow FireFae some love

Where did the Dark Academia aesthetic come from with it's Gothic architecture and dark libraries? What if we told you there is a school, straight from Transylvanian folklore, that might have spawned the whole idea? And that Dracula himself went there??Content Warning: This episode contains conversations about or mentions of child endangerment, and imperialism. Housekeeping- Books: Check out our previous book recommendations, guests' books, and more at spiritspodcast.com/books- Call to Action: Get our new Old Wives' Tale Teller Corduroy Hat!- Submit Your Urban Legends Audio: Call us! 617-420-2344Sponsors- Saily: Get an exclusive 15% discount on your first Saily data plans! Use code spirits at checkout. Download Saily app or go to https://saily.com/spirits Find Us Online- Website & Transcripts: spiritspodcast.com- Patreon: patreon.com/spiritspodcast- Merch: spiritspodcast.com/merch- Instagram: instagram.com/spiritspodcast- Bluesky: bsky.app/profile/spiritspodcast.com- Twitter: twitter.com/spiritspodcast- Tumblr: spiritspodcast.tumblr.comCast & Crew- Co-Hosts: Julia Schifini and Amanda McLoughlin- Editor: Bren Frederick- Music: Brandon Grugle, based on "Danger Storm" by Kevin MacLeod- Artwork: Allyson Wakeman- Multitude: multitude.productionsAbout UsSpirits is a boozy podcast about mythology, legends, and folklore. Every episode, co-hosts Julia and Amanda mix a drink and discuss a new story or character from a wide range of places, eras, and cultures. Learn brand-new stories and enjoy retellings of your favorite myths, served over ice every week, on Spirits.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Check out Gary's Book (s): https://genesis6conspiracy.com/buy-the-genesis-6-conspiracy/Go Deeper on Topics Discussed on the show: http://www.novosnetwork.com/kairos

Listen Ad Free https://www.solgoodmedia.com - Listen to hundreds of audiobooks, thousands of short stories, and ambient sounds all ad free!

Send us a textThis week Vicky and Kristen celebrate their 69th episode with Neon Gods by Katee Robert. Tune in for a modern retelling of Hades and Persephone that is not historically accurate, but with lots of smut.If you liked this episode, please give us a 5 star rating, like, and subscribe! We post new episodes every Wednesday. If you want more, including our monthly book picks and funny memes, follow us on TikTok and Instagram @goodmorningbookclubWe'd also love to hear from you, so if you have any suggestions, including a book you'd like us to read, shoot us an email at gmbookclubllc@gmail.comSee you on the next one!Music and Production by LVL 3 EntertainmentInstagramTikTok

Bernie Taylor's back and he's bringing the knowledge. He doesn't just have the writings, he actually has the cave paintings. Thousands of years old. In the mysterious Basque territories. For those who don't know, the Basques are a people who live along the borders of Spain and France. They have wanted an independent state for a long time.But it's just that, their language is not related to any neighboring or nearby languages. A quasi-isolate. They also have a different general appearance than many Iberians and Franks. Bernie gives us a tour of the geography and their mythology. We start with the Queen of the Gods. Yes. Queen. And we explore from there. We find some similarities to old friends and some aspects relatively unique to most European religions for the past four or five millennia. Not all caves to the underworld are bad. Or, are they?

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The weather has always been a critical element of the human experience - deadly during storms and droughts, sustaining when aligned with the harvest schedule, beautiful and frightening, and integrated into the myths and religions of all societies. How did a scientific understanding of the weather come about? Here to guide us on this question is Simon Winchester. Simon's articles and approximately 30 books range in topic from travel writing to politics, geography, biography, and science history. Simon is best known for his books The Professor and the Madman, The Men Who United the States, The Map That Changed the World, The Man Who Loved China, A Crack in the Edge of the World, and Krakatoa, all of which were New York Times bestsellers. In 2006, Simon was made an officer of the Order of the British Empire by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the II. Today we discuss Simon's new book about the weather entitled, The Breath of the Gods, published by HarperCollins.

There is no escape! Get ready to go on an epic run through hell, because this week we're talking to writer, mythology nerd and self-proclaimed 'sweaty gamer', Motzie Dapul (she/her), about the rogue-like game that keeps her coming back for more; HADES. We chat about Ancient Greek deep-cuts, Hermes level speed runs, never-ending dialogue options, the online Hades community, and how they made the perfect sequel. Plus; Motzie summons dating profiles for the Gods. The Fandom Show Podcast is available wherever you get your podcasts and you can also watch on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@FandomShowPod! Want to learn more about this as well as all our episodes, and get access to even more fandom? Check us out at Patreon.com/TheFandomShow Produced by Andrew Ivimey as part of The From Superheroes