Podcasts about Granted

"I tell you, keep on asking, and it will be given to you. Keep on searching, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." - Jesus ChristKeep remembering that I Am your Daily Bread, and you'll never hunger again. You'll never fear again.You'll rest, finally,because you trust that I will never leave you.I've never left you. And just as it worked out last time, it's working out this time. I know you think you're almost out of time,but remember, there is no time where I am.I Am before I was. I Am on the cross. I Am resurrected. I Am before you.I Am after you.Right now, I Am for you.You have work to do,but it won't be what you think it is.You have hearts to change.But I'll be right there with you.I love you.I never stop talking to you. xxnik nikki@curlynikki.comPlease support the show:▶▶https://www.patreon.com/goodmornings▶▶ Cash App $NikWalton __________________________________________DAY 6 PRAYER - Father Dolindo "You are sleepless; you want to judge everything, direct everything and see to everything and you surrender to human strength, or worse to men themselves, trusting in their intervention, this is what hinders my words and my views. Oh how much I wish from you this surrender, to help you and how I suffer when I see you so agitated! Satan tries to do exactly this: to agitate you and to remove you from my protection and to throw you into the jaws of human initiative. So, trust only in me, rest in me, surrender to me in everything.O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything! (10 times)Mother, I am yours now and forever. Through you and with you I always want to belong completely to Jesus.Amen""My daughter, do you think you have written enough about My mercy? What you have written is but a drop compared to the ocean.I am Love and Mercy itself. There is no misery that could be a match for My mercy, neither will misery exhaust it, because as it is being granted - it increases. The soul that trusts in My mercy is most fortunate, because I myself take care of it". -Diary 1273, St. Faustina"24 But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus--the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God." - Acts of the Apostles "God is good, all good, only good."Francis of Assisi"You either quit or keep going. They both hurt. Read that again." - @goatmotivated "Whatever you are trying to control, controls you." - @thehamsterwheelisnotmotorized "If the ego rises, all else will also rise; if it subsides, all else will also subside." -Ramana Maharshi"I read something about how someone was asking their therapist why all of the sudden they got intensely triggered when they felt like they were almost completely healed from that thing, and the therapist respondedeverything screams when it dies.And that made sense to a lot of things." - @self.loveoasis

- Popular Chesapeake restaurant accused of racial discrimination- Kamala Harris calls out the Democratic party for taking black woman for granted. - Music Artist Nicki Minaj praises Trump - Keith Olbermann roasts ex-girlfriend.

Hello and welcome to the Unedited podcast! The goal of this podcast is to help you develop and enjoy the habit of daily Bible reading and prayer. It is through the Word of God and the presence of God that we GET TO KNOW GOD. In this episode, Meg continues a series based on questions she's been asking herself and shares an Unedited journal entry: “Exceeding. Abundantly. Above All.” Thank you for joining me for this journey. I look forward to meeting up with you again next Friday! If you have questions, please visit megunedited.com Go grab your Bible and your journal! Looking forward to the power of this habit in YOUR life. This is Unedited. This is for U. Happy Friday! IG: @unedited_meg

On this Week's Keepin It Real, Cam is tired of people not from Alabama degrading and belittling our state. But in this certain case, Cam says, we might deserve it.  ----- Go find a podcast called The Alabama Murders. It's a seven-episode series by author Malcolm Gladwell done under his Revisionist History podcast. I love Revisionist History – it's been one of my favorite podcasts for a long time but, well, The Alabama Murders is yet another example of someone who is not from here looking at Alabama with shame and disgust. Our state has been the target of this for a long long time. Gladwell goes out of his way a few times in the podcast to say something along the lines of "what you think people would do in this case is this. However, this is Alabama." It's a clear shot at our state. A slap. Degrading and belittling. However, I want you to find The Alabama Murders podcast because, candidly, we deserve it this time. Two men were executed for killing a woman who they did not kill. The jury of their peers wanted them jailed for the harm they did but the judge, who also knew they didn't kill her, changed their sentence to the death penalty in a move called judicial override. If Gladwell's telling of the story is true, after every state in the union had eliminated judicial override, Alabama kept it for a long while. After every state in the union reverted every guilty party's judgment to what was given to them by the jury of their peers, Alabama refused to change any sentences, grandfathering in the judicial override sentencing which led to the execution of the two men who did not kill their victim. Her husband did. Go find The Alabama Murders and hear the story for yourself. The most gruesome part of the story is not the murder of the lady, but our state's repeated failed attempts to execute the prisoners. It was, unquestionably, cruel and unusual punishment performed by men who then took to the media to boast about creating new precedents that states across the nation should adopt. Granted, the podcast included some dramatization. Long silences to let words linger, music that drove home the cruelty inflicted in each execution and attempted execution. And silences where we can only assume the person being interviewed was quietly crying. But folks, there is no question there should be egg all over our face based on what happened. I'm as sick as the next person of Alabama being looked down upon. And as much as I admire and like Gladwell, I've read all his books, I wish he'd sniff around his own backyard to find stories of justice gone wrong. Leave us alone. There are many many good people here but Gladwell seems to want us to think otherwise. However, you do need to hear this podcast. You need to hear all that happened and who facilitated it and who knew about the cruelty in the executions and did nothing and who knew about the true murderer and sentenced these men to death instead. Find The Alabama Murders in your podcasts. It'll make you flinch. It'll make you want to turn away. Don't. Listen to it. And help me hold our state and our elected officials to a higher standard. I'm Cam Marston just trying to Keep it Real.

Tonmya now available for fibromyalgia; safety warnings for DMD treatment; mitapivat shows mixed results in sickle cell disease trial; Redemplo approved for familial chylomicronemia syndrome; Hyrnuo approved for HER2-mutant NSCLC.

Gerald leads another episode! This time, he gets his feet wet in the realm of being a Dungeon Master! Well...sorta...Joining this episode are fellow dwarven patrons Mark and Fuzz by invitation! Granted, they're mostly here to make Reyway suffer for his elf ego, but also to assist Gerald in sharing the knowledge of Dragon Age's dwarves via roleplaying!

The Time Riders: Part 12 Teaching Nanu about the modern world. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Some minutes passed before Becky pressed her forehead to Nanu's, holding her by the cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Nanu; I thought I'd lost you. I'm sorry; I'll teach you how to be careful. I promise." "I'm sorry, Mistress, I didn't mean to be thoughtless and frighten you," Nanu sniffled, her eyes bleary. As much as the fright by the wheeled monster, she was disconcerted by how upset her Mistress was. Rebe-kah was genuinely terrified that she'd nearly lost Nanu. It made her love her Mistress even more. "Let's go back inside," Becky suggested, pulling Nanu to her feet. "I promise, we'll try again later." She looked both ways before taking them across the road, holding Nanu close, even possessively. Becky was taking no chances. "Mistress?" "Yes, my love?" As they reached the curb back in front of Becky's house, Nanu held up the hem of her long shirt, heedless of the fact that she was flashing her cunt to a random woman walking by as she showed Becky something. "I'm sorry, the monster, it frightened me. I; I pissed myself and ruined the sack." Becky's response was somewhere between a laugh, a choke, and a sob and she caressed Nanu's shoulder as they continued walking. "Don't worry, I'll find you another." "Can it have a flaming cock on it again?" Nanu asked. "I think I rather like that." Becky smiled. "I'll buy you some more flaming cock shirts, my love. I promise." The door shut behind them, and it was time to relax. It had been quite the eventful day and it was barely noon. After a nap. "Do you have friends, Mistress?" Nanu asked as she lay on her back on the bed, gazing up at Becky. She ground and pumped her hips, slithering her cunt against her lover's, while Becky looked down at her, churning and undulating. Becky was fondling one of her ample tits, while the other was caressing one of Nanu's. In turn, Nanu was groping Becky, while her free hand had reached down and was holding her nether lips wide, exposing her throbbing clit to be brushed by Becky's. They'd already cum a few times, but were simply enjoying the sensations now. "Of course, silly," Becky giggled, loving how wet and sticky their pussies felt together. "You just haven't met any of them yet. The only person you know aside from me is Mark." "If we meet your friends, what will you tell them about me?" One of the things that Becky appreciated about Nanu was that she could fuck and still hold a conversation if she felt the need. Business didn't interfere with pleasure. "I admit, I haven't given it too much thought yet, but I would probably tell them that you're a student from another country who I have staying with me, and you don't speak English." Nanu arched her hips and side, pressing hard against Becky's cunt. "Mistress, what; what is the name of the place we are in? Where in the empire of the Romans is it?" Becky had to stop fucking because she broke down laughing. She leaned down and pressed her body to Nanu's hugging her tight while she jiggled uncontrollably. Nanu held her Mistress, but she was frowning, wondering what was so funny. She stopped frowning when Becky kissed her lovingly. "Oh, Nanu," the blonde woman said, smiling into her companion's eyes. "I have so much to explain to you still;” She sat up and then pulled Nanu into her lap. Nanu's legs wrapped around her Mistress' waist and she just looked contentedly into Becky's blue eyes. She knew she was in for an explanation she wouldn't completely understand, but as long as she was naked like this with Becky, she didn't mind, either. There wasn't much Nanu couldn't endure, as long as she kept getting fucked on a regular basis. And Becky seemed to like fucking as much as she did. It was a wonderful match, as far as Nanu was concerned. "Baby," Becky cooed, pushing a stray damp hair away from Nanu's lovely face. "Where we are now, we are very, very far from the boundaries of the Roman Empire. The place I live, it is a nation called 'Canada'." "Kaaa-na-daaa;” she said quietly. She liked the sound of it. "Is Kaaa-na-daaa a large place?" Becky tried to remember her ancient history, not to mention what she knew about her own geography. "Well," she said finally, having figured it out. "Canada is larger than the entire Roman empire at its height. Canada is the second largest nation in the world." Nanu's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Impossible!" she almost hissed in disbelief. "How have you fought off the Roman devils? Is Kaaa-na-daaa mighty?" Becky drew in a breath. This is where it got difficult. "Nanu, I know you can read, and you can count, but; do big numbers mean anything to you?" Nanu shrugged. "I could count higher than any of the other slaves in the Flavian household, and even a few of my masters and mistresses. Sometimes I was too smart and they beat me for it. I think I count well." "I'm asking because;” Becky continued, seeming hesitant. "The Roman Empire, it fell around one-thousand five-hundred years ago." Nanu said nothing, trying to understand what she had just been told. The Empire, gone? Life without Rome? Becky blushed. "It; and the time you were from, Nanu, that was just under three hundred years before Rome fell. My time, where we live now, is about eighteen-hundred years after your own." A long silence followed. Nanu shook her head. When she looked at Becky, her hazel eyes were full of worry. "Mistress, are; are you lying to me?" Becky shook her head slowly. "No, Nanu. I promised you I wouldn't lie to you." "But I don't understand what you mean," the Egyptian girl almost pleaded. "These numbers you are saying, they; I don't understand them!" She took Becky's hands in hers, her expression somewhere between afraid and desperate. "Please help me understand, Mistress.." Becky thought about what she could possibly do to help her beloved Nanu understand. She considered, her eyes closed for some seconds. When she opened them, she nodded. "Come downstairs with me and I will try," she said. Nanu clambered out of her lap and the two girls rose. Taking Nanu's hand, Becky led her downstairs to the living room. She made Nanu sit on the floor while she walked over to a corner. In said corner, behind a decorative screen, she kept a large, bluish water container, like one would find supplying the water cooler in an office. With a grunt, she began rolling it out from its storage space and toward Nanu. The former slave-girl watched curiously while Becky now turned it over with some effort, spilling out what looked to Nanu like tiny brown coins. Endless numbers of them, chinking and tinkling into a pile on the rug. "There," Becky breathed, wiping her brow. She'd already been sweaty from sex with Nanu, and the effort of rolling and tipping her change barrel had her feeling warm. She now lay down on her stomach on the carpet opposite Nanu, with the piles of tiny brown coins between them. "Nanu, these are called 'pennies', and they are a type of coin we use in my time. They are made of aeramen (copper), like some coins you know." Nanu nodded slowly. Becky held up a penny. "We're going to pretend each of these is a year. We're going to count them. And when we get to a certain point, that is how long ago the Roman Empire fell. But think of them as years, Nanu." Nanu drew a deep breath, sat with her legs crossed, and began counting, picking up the pennies and placing them into a new pile she started. "One; two; three;” Fifteen minutes later. Nanu had stopped pushing the pennies, but was still counting aloud while Becky moved the coins. "Six hundred fifty-one; six hundred fifty-two;” Becky could tell her beloved friend was getting very upset, but she kept going, because she needed Nanu to understand. The minutes dragged by, but Nanu kept counting. "Nine hundred eighty-five;” she said in a quavering voice. "Nine hundred eighty-six; nine hundred; No!" Nanu shoved the ever-growing pile of pennies away, scattering the coins, and Becky reared back in surprise. The Egyptian girl was scrambling backward on her ass, her eyes wide in fear and disbelief. She bumped into the couch before she yelped and leapt to her feet, dashing out of the room. "You're Lying!" "Nanu!" Becky called, getting hastily to her feet as the smaller girl opened the front door and burst onto the street. She was still naked, and Becky could hear her sobbing. "Shit shit shit shit;” Becky said under her breath as she pulled a long jacket out of the closet and then dashed out the door, looking around. "Nanu?" she called frantically. "Nanu!" But the girl was nowhere in sight. She looked up and down the street, seeing no bewildered pedestrians. Thank God it was Sunday, but how long could it possibly be before a tiny naked woman was noticed running around the neighborhood sobbing to herself and unable to speak English? She'd be picked up by the police, be terrified, and they would have absolutely no way of identifying her. Heaven only knows what would happen then. Poor Nanu! Becky took a chance and began heading in the direction she heard a dog barking from. She kept calling Nanu's name, having no clue where she could have gone. How on earth had no one seen her yet? Becky cursed herself. There were so many things she hadn't anticipated. How could she? She and Mark had brought Nanu forward in time to make her life better, to free her from the chains of slavery. It seemed like such a good thing to do. It had to be. After all, hadn't time let them do it? She wasn't even exactly certain what had set Nanu off, but she had an inkling. Yet another thing Becky hadn't known she needed to think through. Why would she know that? She'd never brought anyone forward in time before. How many people had? One ten millionth of this time's people? Maybe? She didn't know! This was almost as new to her as it was to Nanu. But Becky was making her own choices and knew she didn't need to be afraid. Nanu was completely surrounded by a universe she knew nothing about. Even the air had to smell completely different to her! She stopped just outside of a parkette and looked around. "Nanu!" she called loudly. She heard a gasp and then muffled sobbing, along with the rustling of foliage. She turned and saw the shrubs that marked the boundaries of the parkette moving awkwardly. She moved toward the disturbance, hoping her search was over. She stopped in front of the shrubs and spoke gently. "Nanu?" "En!" the girl hissed in panic. "Annoi!" Becky had no idea what Nanu had just said, since it wasn't Latin, but she could guess. She stopped coming forward and simply knelt down in the cold grass, determined to give Nanu the time she needed. She could see the girl now, stuffed bodily into the thicket, her hazel eyes brittle with fright. Poor Nanu had to be in agony, wedged in with all those branches and sticks poking and scratching her. How had she done it to begin with? "I'm here, Nanu," she said softly, letting Nanu see her smile, but she stayed still. "I'm sorry you got frightened. Will you please tell me what happened? I am trying so hard to understand, but I am not perfect at this, as you can see." Nanu was sobbing quietly, trying to not be heard. But after some moments, she seemed to be trying to rein in her crying so that she could speak. It took some time, words only coming out as choked gasps. Becky stayed still. She would wait however long was necessary. For Nanu, no length of time was too much. She owed it to the lovely, frightened young woman. And Nanu finally spoke. "They're gone, Mistress," she said in little more than a whisper. "They're all gone." Becky thought about what Nanu was saying and it sent a chill through her. "Nanu, do you mean your family?" "They're dead," she managed to say in a rasping whimper. "They're all dead; my mother, my father; my brothers and sisters; my Ki; her little baby daughter, Nanu; they are dust; dust;” Becky couldn't help it, she began crying too. She bent her head and her chest shuddered as she tried not to vocalize, and tears streamed down her face. This was a horrifying thought when she examined it from Nanu's point of view. Everything Nanu knew to be real was gone. And not even recently. The pennies had forced Nanu to see things in a way she was never meant to. Her family, they weren't newly dead, remembered by anyone. They weren't even decaying in graves. They were dust, nothing more than the endless sands of the land Nanu had grown up in. They'd become a sort of nothingness. "Nanu," Becky whispered, tears stinging her eyes and cold on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I; wish I knew what to say." "What can you say?" the girl murmured. "You are not a god, you cannot bring them to life for me. All I can ever do is go and see them, as they once were, alive and remembering me. But I will always be thinking that I live many ages of the moon after they are nothingness. I will never be rid of that realization, Mistress." "You're right, of course," Becky admitted, nodding. "It's different for you. Lots of my family members are dead, but I never met them, I never knew them. You lived with them all." "Please be honest with me, Mistress," Nanu said quietly. "How much more counting was there to do? How much bigger was the pile of coins going to get?" Becky blushed, feeling stupid for thinking it had been a good idea. The road to Hell was paved with good intentions. "It was going to be twice that size, Nanu. We; we got halfway through the counting." She closed her eyes while Nanu wept quietly again. Someone walked by, staring at her in confusion as she knelt in front of the shrubs in a long jacket, but just kept walking. Maybe it was a weird meditation thing. Nanu finally stopped crying but went silent. Becky did the only thing she could, and remained silent, waiting to see what happened next. Some minutes passed before Nanu finally spoke. "There are twigs and leaves stuck in my cunt." Despite herself, Becky began to snicker, squeezing her knees as she tried to stop. "Mistress," Nanu protested, but she was also trying to keep from giggling. "It's not funny, it hurts. Why did you let me do this?" "I'm sorry, baby," the blonde woman said finally, wiping a tear from her eye and smiling. "I'll try harder to keep you from doing crazy things. I promise." "I am naked, Mistress," Nanu pointed out. "Did you bring me something to wear?" "No, honey, I forgot, because I was so worried about you," admitted Becky. "Why are you stuffed into a shrub, anyway?" There was a pause before Nanu answered. "The dog scared me when it barked at me. Dogs scare me. The Romans use dogs for guards and for war. Why does Ka-na-da have war dogs?" "They aren't war dogs, my love," Becky said, wondering what to do next. "People keep dogs as pets. I used to have a dog when I was a little girl. I miss him very much." Nanu considered. "What was his name?" Becky was almost reluctant to say, since it now sounded silly. "His name was Frankincense. I; I just called him Frank for short." There was another pause. "What does that name even mean?" Becky shrugged. "He's named after a substance I think the Romans called olibanum." "You named your dog after that shit my Flavian masters kept burning in their rooms?" Nanu queried, clearly not impressed. "Hey, I like that smell, thank you," Becky replied. "And you be nice about my little Frankie, or you can keep the leaves and twigs in your cunt, young lady." "Sorry," Nanu snickered. "I'm sure your dog with the stupid name was very nice, Mistress." "Okay, are you ready to come home now?" asked the blonde, pondering their situation. "I can't leave you here like this, so; I guess I'll just hide you inside my coat and hope for the best. I mean, it's only seven blocks back to the house." There was a pause for some moment before Nanu answered. "Okay. I'm; I'm sorry, Mistress. I; I got scared." "I don't blame you, my love," Becky said gently. "Nobody can understand what you're feeling. Nobody, anywhere, can understand. Even Mark and I can't truly." She leaned forward and spoke quietly. "But I promise you, Nanu. We love you. And we want you to be happy. We wanted to free you from slavery and show you the wonders that Mark and I experience. But; we are not very good at planning, because even we don't know what to expect. But please believe me when I say that we want your happiness." "I know, Mistress. And I am sorry I said you were lying and ran away. I just felt terrified. Nothing made sense. It; still doesn't. All I can do is place my faith in you now." Becky nodded solemnly. Nanu was right. Becky couldn't even take her home, because Mark was the one with the time machine, and they wouldn't see him for the next three months. All this trauma had happened on Day One. Not a smooth start. She sighed. Maybe the chroniques dealer she'd found hidden away downtown could find someone to take Nanu back to her own time if she really wanted to return? She'd talk with Nanu about it in due course. She owed Nanu an out if she wanted one. "Okay," she said finally. "I'm going to move to the bush and open my coat, Nanu. Then you; uh; you get inside, I guess, and hug me with your arms and legs. Then I'll try to close my coat and get us home, okay?" The bush rustled as Nanu nodded, and then she moved forward, grunting and swearing as she unstuck herself from her deciduous prison. She almost tumbled into Becky, who was also nude underneath the long garment. She prayed that it would somehow fit around them both. As Nanu snuggled into her, Becky knelt up straight, presenting her waist. She fought to keep herself balanced as Nanu wrapped her arms and legs around her torso, her face squashed between Becky's ample tits. Great; Becky thought as she pushed to her feet and began struggling to close the coat around herself and the Nanu-shaped bundle now hanging onto her. She wheezed almost comically. If I manage to close the damn coat, I'm gonna smother Nanu between my tits. She'll suffocate before I get her the seven blocks home. How on earth did she get this far to begin with? Naked? Becky turned slowly and began to waddle out of the parkette. She pivoted ponderously onto the street and began the slow, awkward trek home. She could hear Nanu snuffling and trying to breathe inside the stretch-tight coat. As she waddled, Becky pulled the top of the coat open slightly, hoping to give Nanu some air. She looked down, seeing Nanu looking back up at her out of the darkness. "Thank you, Mistress;” the girl whispered. Becky could begin to imagine how she looked at the moment; she probably looked like she was trying to give birth to a horse. Or was smuggling a primate beneath her coat. Close enough, really. The occasional person walked by, giving her a curious glance, but then continuing on. This neighborhood wasn't known for being terribly nosy, as long as you weren't too dark of skin. Becky hadn't quite figured out how to solve that problem yet. "Eep! Nanu!" she hissed, shivering as Nanu's mouth found one of her nipples and began sucking on it. She heard Nanu hum contentedly, clearly willing to occupy herself this way while Becky got them home. "What're you doing, you brat?" Nanu ignored her, and Becky realized she'd been speaking English, so Nanu was free to not notice anything she said and had a perfectly viable excuse for doing so. Becky bit her lip as Nanu's wicked tongue swirled around her nipple before she began sucking again. Worse, one of the little brat's hands found her cunt and began stoking it. Whether she wanted to or not, Becky started getting wet and she tried waddling faster. Becky was going to kill Nanu when they got home. She was going to fuck her to death! Another block down. Becky could feel her face was flushed, and she was sweating now, and not only from the effort of carrying Nanu around her middle beneath the damned coat. She bit her lip and groaned as her eyes almost rolled up into her head. Dammit, one of Nanu's fingers found her way inside Becky's cunt! She tried closing her legs as she walked, to force the little tramp's finger out, but she quickly realized she would lose her balance and fall over if she kept this up. Sighing in frustration, she kept her legs open while she walked, doing her best to walk faster. "What're you smuggling under your coat, Fischer?" guffawed a neighbor as he walked by. "An orangutan?" "Uh; just groceries I have to protect!" Becky replied hastily, wrapping her arms under Nanu's ass as if holding the aforementioned imaginary groceries. She heard Nanu sigh and wiggle her cheeks on the hands. She kept sucking on Becky's tits and fingering her cunt. Becky's knees were trembling, and she was fairly certain she was dripping, leaving a path of sticky droplets on the sidewalk her behind her. Her whole body was tingling, even as she struggled to walk. "Uh!" Becky gasped loudly as Nanu bit and tugged on the nipple, the delicious sting lancing along the blonde's nervous system. "You little brat," she hissed, pulling the top of the coat open and scowling down into it. "When we get home, I am spanking your ass right off, young lady!" "If you make it that far, Mistress," Nanu replied, smirking up at her evilly. "If you make it home before you cum, I will eat a whole package of that bay-kon as punishment." Becky waddled faster, panting now as she fought for control. Nanu had two fingers in her now, making scooping motions along her upper wall. "Uh, that's cheating, you little slut!" "It is taking us so long to get home, Mistress," Nanu teased, slithering her tongue around a nipple. "How far are we walking? The length of your Ka-na-da?" Staggering quickly, almost wheezing like she was about to give birth, Becky moved on relentlessly. She almost couldn't see anything as pleasure kept flooding through her, promising orgasm was just around the corner. But Becky knew she didn't have strength to climax and keep moving. If she came, she would be collapsing to her knees and cumming on the sidewalk. If she was lucky, she'd remain kneeling. Sweat was streaming from her body. She was amazed Nanu was still able to hold on at all. C'mon; c'mon. She moaned as Nanu got a third slender finger inside her Mistress, and some woman chose that exact moment to go jogging by, giving Becky a confused look. Becky ignored her and just soldiered on as best she could. She could feel her arousal trickling down her inner thighs. How ridiculous must she have looked, barefoot, waddling around in a long jacket, smuggling an octopus while grunting and moaning like she was in a porn movie? She had barely turned up onto the little walkway leading up to her house before she tore the coat open and burst into a run, stampeding up the stairs while Nanu squeaked in alarm. She flung the door open and staggered inside, panting like she'd just run a marathon and sweating like she'd been fucked by twenty men in a row. Nanu was goggling up at her Mistress in shock (and maybe a little panic). Becky's blue eyes flashed and she grabbed the slave-girl and shoved her down her sweat-slicked body. Nanu's knees hit the wooden floor and she barely had time to register what had happened before Becky grabbed her head and jammed it against her steaming cunt. Nanu grunted and almost choked as Becky ground her hips with a dreadful eagerness, desperate to cum. Nanu slid her tongue inside and lashed her Mistress' cunt frantically. One of Becky's hands scrabbled for and finally grabbed onto the front door, managing to swing it closed so that they couldn't be seen from outside anymore. Leaning back against the wall, she bucked her hips furiously against Nanu's face, both her hands now gripping the Egyptian girl's black hair. She hissed and panted, her entire body shaking. Becky clamped her hands over her mouth and shrieked, juddering as the orgasm rocked her. She was barely cognizant of Nanu below her, trying not to drown as Becky's cunt flooded over. Becky pumped and ground greedily, reality spinning around her. She felt herself slumping down the wall to the floor, her hand on the back of Nanu's head, making sure the girl didn't try to escape. Becky felt like her eyes had switched sockets. Thank God this hadn't happened on the street or she would have been arrested, no question. At last, she opened her eyes and Nanu was kneeling in front of her, waiting patiently with her hands in her lap. Her face and much of her upper chest were glistening with Becky's cum. Not surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind. She stayed quiet until Becky seemed more focused before she finally spoke. "I guess I'm going to have the shits for a few days after the bay-kon, aren't I, Mistress? I lost the wager." Becky wearily reached up and caressed her beloved Nanu's hair. "I'm not letting you eat all my bacon, you silly slut. I love bacon. I'll figure some other way to punish you for losing the wager, like tonguing my ass or something." Nanu nodded. "I think I will enjoy losing wagers to you, Mistress." Becky laughed tiredly. They weren't even through their first day yet and she was exhausted. How many millions more things did she have to teach Nanu before this would was safe for her? And she only had three months to do it! Who would've thought that introducing someone to the future would prove so troublesome? "So you do want to see how the television works?" Becky asked, holding up the remote. Nanu looked at her curiously. They were both naked again, and in all likelihood intended to stay that way, unless they had to leave the house. Becky imagined that Nanu's ass probably still hurt somewhat, and anything she could do to relieve the discomfort was likely in order. Not wearing clothes seemed like a good start. "Mistress, I don't even know what it does, never mind how it works," the Egyptian girl pointed out, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. She gestured at the small black device her mistress held. "Wassa?" "This controls the television for me," Becky said, sitting down next to her charge and showing Nanu all the tiny buttons on the device. Granted, Nanu didn't know what buttons were, so she merely frowned at the remote in mild confusion. "I use it to watch things on the television. It allows me to select what I watch." She pointed the remote at the television and pushed the Power button. The High Definition unit, which was actually longer than Nanu was tall, winked on, and noise blared from it as images came on the screen. Nanu squealed at the sound and scrambled behind Becky, hiding and clutching her mistress' flanks. Becky giggled and lowered the volume. "You can come out now, hero," Becky said, smirking. "I lowered the volume." Nanu peeked out from behind her mistress, looking at the screen warily. She stared for some seconds, unable to understand what she was seeing. Some yellow-haired woman, ridiculously overclothed, was looking at Nanu and babbling in what she could only assume was En-gush. She had a serious look on her face as she spoke into what looked like a black cock. It was windy, apparently, because her hair was blowing around. Nanu slowly crawled toward the TV, her eyes narrowing. Becky watched in amusement, still sitting some distance away. Nanu had a great ass, and she could stare at it endlessly. The younger woman moved close to the screen, staring in bewilderment. Becky had lowered the volume sufficiently so that the news reporter wasn't yelling in Nanu's face. Nanu stared, then moved to the side of the television, looking around and behind it, sitting on its smoked glass countertop. She crawled around to the other side and looked behind again. Finally, she turned and looked at Becky in confusion. "Mistress?" she asked uncertainly. "Why do you keep the woman in the tiny box? How?" Becky had half-expected the question, of course, but it was still funny to hear. Once she was done snickering (Nanu waited patiently, looking only slightly annoyed), Becky replied. "She is not trapped inside the television, darling. It is a device that can show me other people. You have paintings in Rome and back in Egypt, right?" Nanu nodded. "And of course, a painting is just an illustration of someone," Becky explained. She'd had a little bit of time to put thought into this. "They're not actually in the painting, trapped." "So;” Nanu ventured, thinking about it. "The woman inside the box is a painting? Why can it move and talk to me?" "It's not a painting, it's a representation of her," Becky replied, knowing this would get awkward. "A television allows me to see things that are happening elsewhere." Nanu's eyes widened in shock. "The woman you see on the television is here in the city somewhere. I can see other people as well;” She changed the channel, and the television now displayed a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Unfortunately, a split second after the cartoon came up, Tom screamed loudly, having stabbed himself in the ass with a needle on the end of a pool cue. Nanu yelped in fright and threw herself into Becky's arms, shaking. Becky wheezed as she tumbled onto her back, holding onto her young ward. Nanu was trembling, her face stuffed between Becky's boobs. "Mistress, the box frightens me," the girl whispered. "It is too loud." "We can change how loud it is, Nanu," Becky said gently, pushing herself up into a sitting position and hugging Nanu, who was still wrapped around her, refusing to let go. "My world is probably rather loud compared to the one you know, my love. And the noises will be things you're not used to. But I promise you that you will adapt. Just like you did to life in Rome, and just like you will to bacon." Nanu nodded and then turned her head to look back at the TV. "Is; is that supposed to be a mouse and a cat?" Becky nodded. "Someone drew them to look comical and make people laugh." "The mouse is trying to kill the cat," Nanu pointed out. "He struck the cat on the head with the stick so that the cat screamed and swallowed that rolling ball. The mouse is evil. Are cats not sacred in your time, Mistress?" "Cats think they are, but many people just keep them as pets," Becky laughed. "Turn around and let me show you more. And I promise you, Nanu, nobody is caught inside the box. I don't quite know how to explain yet, but I will when I can. The television is meant to entertain." She changed the channel again and Nanu watched intently as Rocky Balboa and Ivan Drago slugging it out on the screen. "You have gladiators in your society, Mistress?" she breathed, watching the bulging muscles flex as the two men pummeled one another. "We pay some athletes to fight, but we do not have death sports, like you remember," Becky replied, shrugging as she hugged Nanu, who was still sitting in her lap. "I mean, maybe some countries like the Veniti (Russians) do, but they're rather barbaric. We have Olympics, like you remember, just a lot more events. But this is just a story being told, this isn't real." "It looks very real," Nanu said, still glued to the screen. "I can hear them hitting each other." "Did you ever see a drama or play, Nanu?" Becky asked, which got a nodding head from the smaller girl. "Well, just like in those plays or dramas, the actors can pretend to strike one another. In my time, we might just be better at making it look real." "How do you tell fake fights and real fights apart?" Nanu asked. Becky could feel the other girl squirming in her lap. Nanu was getting turned on watching muscular men beat one another up. "Circumiastentia, (context)," Becky replied. "The television will tell you if you are watching something that actually happened, or whether it is a drama." Nanu tilted her head. "Can you show me a real fight?" Becky considered and then switched to a sports channel. Quickly enough, she came across an MMA fight between two women. Nanu gaped as she watched the women grapple and beat the shit out of one another. "Oh, Nunes! She Just Hurt Cyborg!" crowed the announcer. Not that the Egyptian girl understood what he was saying. "And; they never use weapons?" Nanu asked in a quiet but somehow hopeful voice. "No, you bloodthirsty little thing," Becky giggled, hugging her tight and wiggling her boobs into Nanu's back. "If you see weapons, it is probably a drama and not real." "These women are not very attractive, and punching each other just makes it worse," Nanu said, wrinkling her nose. "I would not fuck them. Are they fighting over a man?" Becky wasn't about to try to explain that Amanda Nunes was married to another woman who was also an MMA fighter. She just let her continue to watch while blood and teeth flew everywhere. "What else, does the magic box show us?" Becky thought of how to explain. She thought about anything Nanu might have been familiar with. "Do you; remember how announcements were placed in the Forum in Rome for people to read?" Nanu nodded. "The acta diurna. They told us about things that were happening. I was one of three Flavian slaves who could read them. It made the others jealous. But mostly we just found out about things from hearsay, people telling other people things." "Well, there are people who are paid to report nuntium (news)," Becky said. "That way, you can know what's going on, not just here in the city, but almost anywhere in the world." Nanu leaned back into Becky and looked up at her. "What IS the name of this city you live in, Mistress?" "Toronto," Becky said. This drew a frown from Nanu. Becky picked up Nanu's hand and gently pressed her lips against her palm. "To-ron-to." Nanu shook her head. "Maybe if you said it against my lips, Mistress." Becky giggled and shook her head. "You little slut;” She leaned down and her lips barely touched Nanu's. "Tor-ron-to." Fifteen minutes of almost kissing passed before Nanu could say Toronto. Becky wasn't at all surprised. It occurred to her that maybe one way to ease Nanu into her new environs and life was to find ways in which it was similar to her old one. "I know you don't speak English yet, darling, but I might be able to help you learn a little more quickly. Can you spell your name?" "Nanu nodded. "I can speak Latin and read some, Mistress, but; I only know how to write a few words. One of them is my name." "Come," Becky said, getting Nanu out of her lap and getting to her feet. Nanu followed suit. "Let's go to the kitchen;” She brought Nanu by the hand into the kitchen and stopped in front of the fridge. She had a small whiteboard stuck to it, and some colored markers alongside. She popped the top of the black marker and then drew a large dot on the board, demonstrating for Nanu how it worked. She then handed the marker to Nanu. The Egyptian girl looked at it curiously and then sniffed the tip. "Don't lick it, Nanu," Becky said gently but firmly. Nanu grimaced and stuck her tongue back in her mouth, sighing and turning toward the whiteboard. It was a glossy white color she'd almost never seen before. She gripped the marker awkwardly, in her fist, and pressed the tip against the white surface, obeying Becky's instructions to not press so hard. She slowly drew out her name on the surface. NANV "Good," Becky said as the slave-girl wiped her forehead. "Now, watch me spell your name in English;” NANU Nanu looked shocked. "Mistress, they are almost exactly the same," she breathed. "Why are they so similar?" Becky smiled. "My language borrows many, many things from Latin, including the alphabet. Many words have Latin origins as well." She wrote the name of Rome in Latin and English for Nanu, followed by the words for Egypt. ROMA ROME AEGYPTUS EGYPT. Nanu got quiet for a moment. "Mistress, I; I know my family is gone now but; what does my home look like?" "Do you mean Egypt?" Becky asked. Nanu nodded. "Well, it is still largely desert, except along the river, but there are many large cities like my own there now. The city that is the capital of the Egyptian nation is one of the largest in the world." Nanu almost looked excited. "My people are numerous and mighty?" Becky paused a second too long in answering and Nanu's expression changed to one of concern. "Mistress? Tell me the truth." Becky led her over to two small chairs and held her hand while they sat down. Becky drew a deep breath. "It is hard to explain, Nanu. Your nation is populated, like I said, but; I don't think the people there are Egyptians the way you understand them." Nanu almost went pale. "We have been destroyed?" "No, not as such," Becky fumbled, trying to explain. "But; for centuries after your time, there were waves of people who moved through the lands. Do you know who the Arabs are?" Nanu thought about that. "They are nomads from the great desert, aren't they?" Becky nodded. "After the Roman Empire fell, the next great empire was one ruled by the Arab tribes. Egypt fell to them. Modern scholars believe that the Arabs are the blood of Egypt now, and much of northern Africa. They had children with your people, and then with those children in time, and soon; your blood, true Egyptian blood, was no more. Not as you would think of it." The Egyptian girl was silent for some time, staring at nothing. Or Becky's boobs. It was a fair bet with Nanu. "My people are gone;” she murmured, looking at the floor. "We are no more;” Becky nodded sadly. "There are many civilizations in the world that has happened to, Nanu. Egypt, your Egypt, just happens to be one of them. If the scholars are right about that, then you are the only person in my world of your bloodline, your people." Nanu finally looked up at Becky and nodded. "Then I must fuck and have children so that the people of the Black Land may rise again. I will be the new queen of a new, mighty people of Keme." Becky smiled warmly. Nothing ever seemed to daunt Nanu for long. "Nanu, my love, somehow I do not doubt that about you. Let's eat, shall we?" This time around, Becky chose the foods carefully, mostly relying on fresh fruits and vegetables. She did her best to buy organic products, free of pesticides and preservatives, so hopefully this meal would not wreak havoc on Nanu's digestive tract. Nanu watched patiently as her mistress prepared the food, cutting into a loaf of what seemed to be bread, and smelled wonderful. Becky had baked it not long before she and Mark had gone to retrieve Nanu, so it was still quite fresh. She brought everything to the table and sat Nanu down before sitting herself. "Apples, pears, blackberries, celery, scallions, cherry tomatoes, bread I made myself, with butter and my own peanut butter," Becky said, pointing to everything in turn. "I think you'll like it." Nanu made a wry face when she looked at the peanut butter. "What is that, Mistress? I would be rude if I said what it looked like." Becky snickered, remembering that the Romans had no damn idea what a peanut was. "It is a paste made of a ground up nut. You have eaten almonds?" The Egyptian girl nodded, still looking at the brown goop suspiciously. "This is like almonds, but I have ground them up and made a paste out of them. Try a bit on your spoon." Nanu trusted her mistress enough to dip her spoon in the goop that looked like warm shit, and licked it with her tongue apprehensively. She smacked her lips as she tasted the peanut butter, her eyes darting back and forth. Then she blinked and dunked her spoon into the condiment, scooping up a huge glob and shoving it in her mouth eagerly. "Leave some for me, you brat!" Becky laughed. "You spread it on your bread, although you can also put it on some of your fruits and vegetables, like the apples or celery. Let me show you." She demonstrated spreading the peanut butter on her piece of bread, and Nanu followed suit. Nanu devoured the bread covered in peanut butter quickly, then began experimenting with putting the substance on the other foods on her plate. Some were a miss, but she seemed delighted with the peanut butter on the apples and celery, as her mistress had suggested. "Mistress, I cannot wait to lick this off of you;” the Egyptian girl breathed. "This is as good as licking honey off a cunt." "All in due course, my dear," Becky assured her. "For now, just eat." "How will I eat, Mistress?" Nanu asked as she shoveled apple and peanut butter down her gullet. "You said that you must work, you are to be gone for long parts of some days. How will I feed myself if I cannot work the food makers?" "I will start teaching you," the blonde said, smiling. "But until then, I will make food for you and leave it in the cold box and you can eat it when you get hungry. It might be cold food, but you will like it, I promise. And maybe I can show you how to prepare some things that don't require the heat makers." "I would like to learn, Mistress," Nanu said, pausing eating long enough to indicate she was serious. "I want to thrive in my new world, and to do that, I must be able to feed myself. You said you teach young minds?" Becky nodded. "Young men and women, from the ages of thirteen to eighteen. I teach them sciences." "Why are girls taught, Mistress?" Nanu asked. "If they just need to be able to read before they marry and have children, why would they learn anything else? Especially a science?" Becky almost laughed. "In this day and age, Nanu, education is the right of everyone, man or woman, girl or boy. Women, as it turns out, are every bit as capable as men when it comes to academia. That's why I'm a teacher, after all." "I just thought you were smarter than everyone else and exceptional," Nanu grunted, going back to her food. "You are certainly smarter than M-ark." "You'll get no argument from me, darling," giggled the older girl, drinking some milk. "Mark is currently failing my science class." "Do you beat him?" queried Nanu. "In my time, negligent boys are held down and whipped with a leather strap if they are failing in their studies." "No, we don't beat our students, tempting as that sounds," Becky said, picturing herself beating Mark's ass for yet another D grade in her class. "But when I work, which is generally five days a week, I leave in the morning and am back in the mid-afternoon. Between eight and nine hours." "That is a long time for me to be alone, Mistress, but I will manage," Nanu sighed. "If you show me how to do things and keep myself amused, I will be fine. Maybe I can teach myself about your world." "I absolutely believe that about you, Nanu, you are a very smart young woman," Becky said, nodding and smiling. "You may have just been a dancing slave in your old life, but I'll bet you could be anything you want here in my world, if you are diligent and work hard." Nanu's eyes widened. "You mean I could become a mighty and feared queen who conquers her enemies? I will work so very hard, Mistress!" "Let's just make sure you can conquer to the TV remote first," Becky laughed as she began to clear off the table, leaving the peanut butter for Nanu. It had been a long time since she'd had it licked off her tits or her cunt, after all. They spent a good deal of the afternoon in the bathtub, where Nanu was resting back against her mistress, humming in contentment as she luxuriated in the hot, scented water. Becky was fond of adding oils to her bath, making her skin smooth, and she loved how it made her smell, even after a vigorous workout at her Krav-Maga class. "Hmm, this feels so nice, Mistress," the Egyptian girl murmured, snuggling back against Becky, her eyes closed. "Even warmer than the baths of Trajan, and much warmer than my master kept his." "I like it," Becky said agreeably, scooping up water in her hands and pouring it down over Nanu's tits and down her torso. She caressed the smooth, tan skin gently, making Nanu sigh in pleasure. They'd fucked again before the bath, making each other cum at least twice. Nanu had indeed licked peanut butter off Becky's cunt, and out of it. The brat in her came out and she managed to smear it all over Becky's front before the blonde could stop her, resulting in Nanu having to lick it all off, apparently. A terrible dilemma for them both. Once they'd showered, Becky drew a bath, and this was where they found themselves now, relaxing and winding down the day. "And you can't take me with you to your work?" Nanu asked, her head nuzzled back between the twin pillows of Becky's tits. "It's not a good idea right now, my love," the teacher answered, stroking her lover. "It's hard to explain, but Mark is there, and he can't see you right now." "I thought you said we couldn't see Mark for three whole months?" Nanu asked, making a wry face. "But you see him at your school every day?" Becky considered how to explain. "You now understand that Mark and I travel through time, right?" Nanu nodded. "I don't understand at all how you do it, but I have seen it for myself, so yes." "Well; imagine if I took you to see your family, but before you were even born. Like, if your parents were so young that they haven't even met yet. You might know who they are, but they would have no idea who you were, because you weren't born yet." Nanu squeezed her eyes shut, thinking very hard, but it was a losing battle. "Keep going, Mistress." "The Mark you would see in my school doesn't know about time travel yet, or you. He isn't my lover yet. He won't be until three months from now. The Mark you know and love is from three months ahead of us, darling. So; you meeting the Mark who exists at the same time we do is a bad idea." Nanu shook her head. "I don't understand how meeting this Mark could be bad when meeting the Mark of tomorrow isn't. But I guess I must just take your word for it; again." "Probably for the best, Nanu," Becky giggled. "Don't worry, I don't like it either." "Three months without cock, Mistress," the younger girl almost groused. "How do you survive it?" "Nanu, just because we can't see Mark doesn't mean we can't have sex with men," Becky pointed out. "Mark doesn't own us, we can fuck whomever we please, just as he can." "Just not your students," Nanu grunted. "Who else is there?" Becky shrugged. "There's quite a few teachers, but that's awkward to me. I don't want to fuck my co-workers." "There must be lots of people in this world to fuck, Mistress," Nanu insisted. "And yes, I love you, and your cunt, but three months without cock is long time for me. I could have it nightly if I wanted when I was a slave." Becky reflected on that conundrum. Before she'd begun time travelling with Mark, she'd actually been experiencing quite a drought when it came to getting laid. It had been more than a year since she'd gotten any, and that pent-up tension had a tendency to come out during her Krav-Maga lessons. She couldn't help but think that maybe, in a world so very many times larger than Nanu's, she'd made her own life difficult by being overly fussy. After all, she'd hardly shown any restraint at all once she'd gotten into the time stream, had she? In Renaissance France, she'd fucked the innkeeper's two daughters quite readily. She rarely been with a woman since her days at university. And at the Flavian villa in Nanu's Rome, she'd fucked several men and women at once, because she could. It was an orgy, after all. What the Hell was so hard about getting laid in her own time? "Nanu, I promise you, we will fuck men before we meet Mark again," she assured her charge. "Maybe I don't know who yet, but I'll make it happen." Nanu nodded drowsily, the warmth of the water in the tub getting to her. "Hmm, glad to hear it, Mistress. I do love a stiff cock in my cunt." "So do I, my love," Becky sighed, finding her own mind wandering because of the water and the sensation of Nanu's soft body against hers. She had to admit, she normally wasn't this relaxed, even after her yoga and meditation. Sometimes, there was just no substitute for getting lots of sex. "I don't want you to worry about me going to work and leaving you tomorrow. I will make sure you are fed and have things to do. We'll make all your food tonight so that it's ready for tomorrow." "Where can we get some cock, Mistress?" Nanu asked, seemingly becoming fixated. Not that Becky blamed her. The blonde closed her eyes and pondered that for a few moments. Where was she guaranteed to get Nanu and herself laid without big risk? Of course! Talk about surefire! She smiled down at her companion and hugged her close. "Nanu, I have an idea, and it will certainly result in cock for you. All the cock you want and very likely the biggest. But you'll need to bear with me first, okay? I have to teach you some things." Nanu looked back at her and nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mistress. I will learn so well if it means I get some cock!" I can't tell if she's more food-motivated or sex-motivated, Becky thought with a smirk. "Okay, then. It'll likely be later this week, so you need to be patient. But there's much to do before then." Becky reached out of the tub and picked up her cellphone, which Nanu looked at curiously. Becky pressed some small dots on the surface, which had a very lifelike picture of her Mistress on it. Becky could see Nanu's confusion and remembered that the girl had no idea what the Hell a button was. Where in ancient Rome would she have seen a button? She keyed in a number and then hit the speaker button, allowing Nanu to hear what was happening. She made a shush gesture with her finger, indicating that Nanu was to be quiet. The Egyptian girl nodded and watched intently. Nanu frowned as she heard a weird buzzing sound that was uncomfortable in her ears. Then it stopped and was replaced by a lyrical, wondrous voice. "Hello?" "Heya, Lady Prof," Becky said cheerfully. "It's Becky." What sounded like a gasp of delight emanated from the little box Becky held, and then the wonderful voice again. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer! How are you, my dearest and most talented student?" "I'm good, thanks," Becky replied, feeling a delicious tingle at the sound of that voice. "If you and Lord High Eve

This week's case takes us way back to the 1800s, a few years before slavery was officially abolished. A 16 year old black boy convicted of a crime that HE claims he did not commit, and VOWED to get revenge for the injustice he faced. So JOIN US as we discuss the first case in US history where someone used the insanity defense.JOIN US as we discuss the revenge story of William Freeman. RIP to the victims

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Pakistan's Military Dominance: Field Marshal Munir's Power and US Relations Guest: Ambassador Husain Haqqani Ambassador Husain Haqqani detailed the institutional dominance of Pakistan's military, noting that Parliament recently granted Field Marshal Asim Munir legal immunity for life and expanded his power by designating him Chief of Defense Forces, giving him control over the entire military, as Munir aims for presidential privileges without directly taking power, backed by a national narrative that Pakistan is perpetually under threat from India, and gained significant political and psychological advantage through two meetings and praise from President Trump, despite no new US aid or weapons, while Trump, who favors strongmen, may also be using this praise to leverage concessions from Indian Prime Minister Modi, as Munir is taking risks by adopting a firmer stance regarding violence on the Northwest frontier with the Taliban, an approach not well received by the Afghans, with Pakistani politicians historically conceding ground to the military to secure a shared portion of power. 1965 INDO-PAKISTAN WAR

CONTINUED Pakistan's Military Dominance: Field Marshal Munir's Power and US Relations Guest: Ambassador Husain Haqqani Ambassador Husain Haqqani detailed the institutional dominance of Pakistan's military, noting that Parliament recently granted Field Marshal Asim Munir legal immunity for life and expanded his power 1945 CHAPPAR RIFT

Cricket icon Merv Hughes has called the Barmy Army being allocated sacred bay 13 this summer as "un-Australian". The legendary paceman wants an independent inquiry into the decision to give the English fans access to the infamous section, known for larrikin behaviour filled with iconic cricket moments. Catch Mick in the Morning, with Roo, Titus & Rosie LIVE from 6-9am weekdays on 105.1 Triple M Melbourne or via the LiSTNR app. Mick In The Morning Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/molloy Triple M Melbourne Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/triplemmelb Triple M Melbourne TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@triplemmelbourne Triple M Melbourne Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/triplemmelbourneSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

As a psychology Masters student at the time of writing with a massive interest in clinical psychology, I really like looking into therapies. This is even more true when I'm undergoing therapy and counselling for trauma, so when I found out my rape counselling was based on the Three-Stage Recovery Model by Judith Herman, I wanted to learn more. Granted, it took me 9 weeks to finally get round to researching the model in-depth but better late than never. Therefore, in this clinical psychology podcast episode, you'll learn what are the three stages included in this recovery model, why are they useful and how does the model work to treat trauma. If you enjoy learning about mental health, clinical trauma work and psychotherapy then this is a brilliant podcast episode for you.In the psychology news section, you'll learn how the decreasing mental health of young people is making the midlife crisis disappear, how cultural attitudes impact eating disorders and how much of our life is lived on autopilot.LISTEN NOW!If you want to support the podcast, please check out:FREE AND EXCLUSIVE 8 PSYCHOLOGY BOOK BOXSET- https://www.subscribepage.io/psychologyboxsetHealing As A Survivor: A Personal and Clinical Psychology Guide To Healing From Sexual Violence- https://www.connorwhiteley.net/healing-as-a-survivor Available from all major eBook retailers and you can order the paperback and hardback copies from Amazon, your local bookstore and local library, if you request it. Also available as an AI-narrated audiobook from selected audiobook platforms and libraries systems. For example, Kobo, Spotify, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Overdrive, Baker and Taylor and Bibliotheca. Patreon- patreon.com/ThePsychologyWorldPodcast#trauma #traumarecovery #traumahealing #traumahealingjourney #judithherman #clinicalpsychology #mentalhealth #clinicalmentalhealth #clinicalpsychologist #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealthsupport #mentalhealthadvocate #psychology #psychology_facts #psychologyfacts #psychologyfact #psychologystudent #psychologystudents #podcast #podcasts

In the current climate, a large swath of secularists would be nervous if they knew we were considering the conquest of Canaan in the book of Joshua. The remainder would be fascinated as they attempted to understand the Christian way over against their own unbelieving assumptions. Their fascination would not be misplaced, nor their fear. Granted, many of them would speak of a Christian jihad, and we are up to nothing of that sort. But their true fear is the terror of the Lord—the sword of the Spirit—which is more deadly than any earthly blade.What this means for us is that we should not let the secularists understand the times better than we do. If they understand Joshua is an apt book at this moment, how much more should we?

This episode we cover the first silver mine in Japan, as well as the way that this sovereign is approaching offerings to the kami and handling family matters. For more check out: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-138   Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 138: Offerings and Covenants   A gentle summer breeze blew through the cherry-tree-covered hills of Yoshino valley.  The royal residence, a kind of summer home for the royal family, normally somewhat quiet, was suddenly abuzz with activity.  The regular groundskeepers and those who tended the site throughout the year mingled with servants sent from the capital to make it ready for a royal visit.  Rooms were aired out and swept. Metal fixtures were polished.  The kitchen was stocked and ready to go. It had been some years since the prince—now sovereign—had resided in the valley as an attempt to proclaim he had retired from the world.  Now he was sitting at the top of the state government, but as such, he was more often than not living in the grand palace in Asuka, which he had renovated at the start of his reign. This, the Yoshino palace, was left as more of a vacation home—though "home" hardly did it justice given its majesty compared to the meager dwellings that otherwise surrounded it. And now there was a massive royal procession on their way.  Sure, it was the sovereign and his queen, and only a handful of princes, but they would each need their own quarters and likely have their own household staff that would no doubt need to be fed and housed.  In such a way a "simple" outing for the royal family was so often anything but for those who had to make it happen. And yet, such labor was much preferred to toiling in the fields, especially as the heat of the day started to rise, and the height of summer loomed large in the all-too-immediate future.   Alright, so we are in the midst of the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, the brother of Naka no Ohoe, who came to power through the use of military force—purportedly used in self-defense—and the sovereign who would have a profound effect on solidifying the Ritsuryo state, as well as the Chronicles and the history of the archipelago as we know it.  We've talked about Ohoama's ascension to the throne, and even his first year.  We mentioned how, during his reign, he rewarded those who helped him, tweaked the rank system, and we talked a bit about what we know of the clothing and the material culture of the period. This episode, we continue looking at what occurred during Ohoama's reign.  Specifically we'll be covering some of the ways in which Ohoama and his court were shaping the government and the structures of power to serve him and his family.  This includes everything from ritual, such as making offerings to various kami, to the way that he seems to have centralized power to himself and his family, which would have lasting impacts through the Asuka and Nara periods. First, though, a tiny little digression about silver.  We start in the 3rd lunar month of the second year since Ohoama ascended the throne, or the year 674 by the western calendar.  We are told that Woshiumi no Miyatsuko no Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the island that formed the main border between the archipelago and the mainland, reported that silver had been produced there for the first time, and sent in some as tribute.  This is the first recorded instance of silver being produced in Japan. At this time, silver mining was mostly limited to finding a vein of silver on the surface and digging it out as far as one could possibly go into the rock and stone.  Still, silver would eventually become an important resource for the archipelago.  Tsushima would continue to produce silver through modern times.  Granted, production was limited until new refining techniques were introduced from Joseon Korea in the 16th century.  This was just as Ming dynasty deposits were declining, and as such, silver would become a major export from the archipelago to the mainland.  Indeed, by the 17th century, it is said that Japan accounted for one quarter to one third of the entire world's silver production. For now, however, the discovery of native silver was certainly a good start, but the Yamato court wasn't switching to a silver coin currency just yet—rice and cloth were still the major currencies for tax and trade purposes.  Still this find seems not insignificant, and clearly the chroniclers thought so as well -- as did the court.  They granted Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the rank of Lower Shoukin.  The silver produced by the mine was offered to the various kami of heaven and earth, and presents were made to the high ministers and others of the rank of Shoukin and above. Now back to the Chronicles, and to the meat of what I'll be talking about this episode. On the 3rd day of the 8th lunar month of 674, we are told that the Royal Prince Wosakabe was sent to Isonokami shrine to polish up the divine treasures, at which point the sovereign made a rather spectacular decree:  he declared that all of the precious things originally deposited in the sacred treasuries by the various houses should be returned to their descendants. This appears to be a reference to the long-standing practice by Yamato of demanding that those they had gained some level of hegemony over turn over their sacred objects for Yamato's keeping.    We talked about this back in episodes 19 and 29, for example, when we talked about how Mimaki Iribiko, aka Sujin Tenno, and Ikume Iribiko, aka Suinin Tenno, had both requested treasures from Izumo and elsewhere, to be stored in the treasure house of Isonokami. We aren't told what all of these treasures were, but we can deduce that these were sacred treasures of the different houses and localities, much as the mirror, jewel, and sword were sacred treasures of Yamato.  These were items that early on distinguished the elite class in the archipelago, and had come to be gathered in the divine store houses.  You may recall how, early on, we saw mentions in the Chroncles that ships sent out to meet with others from different lands would place such treasures on a makeshift tree on the deck as a way of depicting who they were—who they represented. It would seem that these sacred objects came to represent the divine ancestors of the elites, and so eventually were associated with the idea of power and authority.  As Yamato spread its influence, possibly as much through the spiritual authority of Mt. Miwa as through its economic and military capability, it seems to have demanded that the various lands that came under its sway place their sacred treasures in Yamato's storehouse—a powerful image of Yamato's authority.  In a sense, this was a kind of hostage situation: recognize our authority, or your most sacred treasures, representing your ancestors, will be at risk .  One wonders if this isn't part of the reason that we find buried caches of bronze ritual items, including weapons, bells, and other such things, perhaps as a means of keeping them safe from those who would steal them away. However, in the new era of the Ritsuryo system, those objects, while still considered divine and sacred, did not hold the same value as they once had.  Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but this really seems to me to be particularly illustrative of the idea that the cultural imaginary of state power and authority had shifted.  Yamato's power and authority was no longer based on its role as a spiritual powerhouse as much as it was centered on the continental framework of a heavenly mandate and a system of laws and punishments.   And so, the sovereign could return the sacred items back to their descendants, because to do so did not cost him anything, and at the same time would no doubt earn him goodwill.  He could appear magnanimous and, in so doing, solidify his position as the supreme hegemon of this new state.  In many ways this acknowledged the importance of the divine treasures to the people and to the kami while also no doubt reinforcing Confucian stereotypes of the benevolent ruler. More importantly, this shows how Ohoama was restructuring the rituals of the state.  After all, he had the Jingikan, an entire governmental department dedicated to administering the various shrines and sacred rituals; so even if the sacred treasures were returned, they were still technically under the control of the state apparatus.  We've already talked about the Daijosai, the Feast of First Fruits for a new reign, a central ritual to which Ohoama had added further pomp and circumstance.  But as no less a scholar than Herman Ooms has written about, Ohoama also initiated the practice of ordering regular centralized offerings to not just one particular kami, but to several or even a number of kami, or shrines, at any given time.  We see this in the following year, on the 23rd day of the first lunar month of 675, in an almost off-hand remark. Later, in the 10th month of 676 offerings were made to all of the "Ahimbe" kami of Heaven and Earth—that is all of kami that were part of the festival of first fruits held on the first day of the rabbit on the 11th lunar month.  Offerings were also made to all of the Heavenly and Earthly kami on the second day of the year in 681. Of course, these offerings would not just be enriching the shrines of these various kami, but it would also reflect on the various uji connected to each of those shrines, as well. Another example of the court's involvement in these ritual innovations appears to be the worship of the deities at Tatsuta and Hirose.  The first example of that is also in 675, in the 4th month of that year.  Prince Mino and Saheki no Muraji no Hirotari were sent to the Wind-gods at Tateno, in Tatsuta.  Aston notes that there is a litany to the Wind-gods mentioned in the Engishiki, a 10th century collection of information on various rituals of the time, so this practice seems to have taken hold, at least enough to persist over 3 centuries later.  Also in the 4th month of 675, Hashibito no Muraji no Ohobuta and Sone no Muraji no Karainu were sent to worship the Oho-imi deity at Kahawa, in Hirose. The Oho-imi appears to be a "big abstinence" deity, whom Aston identifies with Waka'ukahime, responsible for food.  Worship is again paid twice in the year 676, once in 677, then twice again in 679, continuing twice a year, almost exclusively in the 4th and 7th lunar months, through the end of the reign.  Why were these particular deities chosen for special worship by the court?  Ooms notes that these shrines were built downstream along the Yamato river, which, along with its tributaries, was responsible for the irrigation of the crops in the Nara basin.  This mirrors, in some ways, the responsibility of rulers in the Yellow River and Yangzi river regions to help ensure the flow of the rivers while preventing devastating flooding – a very continental idea of the responsibilities of the sovereign, though expressed here with a particularly Japanese style. Indeed, Aston associates the deity at Hirose, with the deity of food.   Likewise, the Wind-deities at Tatsuta were also related to helping to grow crops.  After all, Tatsuta would have been situated near the break in the mountains that surrounds the Nara basin, where the Yamato River flows out towards the Kawachi plain.  As anyone who lives near a mountain gap is no doubt familiar, those areas are notorious for channeling weather phenomena, including storms, which can bring rain, but could also bring terrible winds.  So it does seem a natural point to pray for good weather for your harvest or otherwise, given the geography that made up the sovereign's world. We also have, in this reign, considerably more discussion of Ise than we've seen, previously.  In 673 we have the Royal Princess Ohoku no Himemiko entering the Saigu, the Abstinence, or Purification, Palace, where she was to be purified before going to Ise, which she did in the 10th lunar month of 674.  Ohoku is said to have been the first official Saiou, the unmarried royal princess sent to oversee shrine operations, of Ise Shrine.  This is a practice we see at multiple shrines, although it's most prominent at Ise. The term for the position in general is Saiou, although at Ise the royal princess would also be known as the Saiguu, after the purification palace.  Although Ohoku is said to have been the first Saiguu at Ise, this is muddied somewhat by some earlier mentions in the Chronicles.  There are those who are said to have been sent as Shrine Princesses to Ise back in the time of Mimaki Iribiko and Ikume Iribiko, but the process was largely discontinued—or at least rarely mentioned—until this period.  There are certainly several named individuals who are said to have served the Deity of Ise previously, starting with the presumably mythical Yamato Hime, who is credited with founding the shrine.  There are also various royal princesses are noted as either having served or as having been made ineligible due to their indiscretions. However, those earlier mentions rarely go into the detail we see here —starting with the abstinence hall, where the would-be Shrine Princess must purify herself prior to approaching the shrine, a process that took some time.  Certainly we first really see this put into action with Ohoku, and from that time the position of Saiguu or Saiou at Ise does appear to have been regularly filled.  That Ohoku was actually the first "Saiguu" shrine princess appears to be confirmed by the "Fusou Ryakki", which states that the first Saiou was appointed when then Prince Ohoama, in the midst of the Jinshin war, made a prayer to Ise and offered the royal princess Ohoku no Himemiko in exchange for victory.  In fact, a lot of the focus on Ise seems to stem from its apparent involvement, at the behest of either Ohoama or his consort, Uno no Sarara Hime, in the conflict. The following year we are told that the Royal Princesses Towochi and Abe proceeded to Ise Shrine as well, though presumably just for a brief visit.  Towochi, you may recall, was Ohoama's daughter who had been married to Ohotomo, aka Koubun Tennou, whom Ohoama had defeated to take the throne.  Abe was a daughter of Naka no Oe, half-sister to Ohoama's queen, Uno, and would eventually go on to marry the Crown Prince, Kusakabe.  That gives you some idea of the position of those were going to the shrine. Princess Towochi herself would fall ill a few years later in 678.  In fact, it was just as the sovereign himself was preparing to go pay a visit to the abstinence palace, perhaps so that he could also head out to Ise.  The court had a divination to figure out when he would leave, officers had cleared the roads, and the public functionaries were in a line of procession when word came that Princess Towochi, suddenly took ill and died within the palace.  This stopped everything in its tracks, and in that year there was no sacrifice made to the kami of heaven and earth.  I suspect that this was in part due to mourning and in part due to the pollution more generally associated with death. Two weeks later, she was buried at Akaho, and Ohoama raised a lament for her. Later, in 686, we are told that the Royal Princess Taki, the Princess Yamashiro no Hime, and the Lady Ishikawa were all sent to Ise Shrine, though Princess Taki returned in less than a fortnight. Why all this focus on Ise?  Remember that the Chronicles were begun in this era, and so the "truth" they would tell would be the truth that Ohoama and his immediate successors orchestrated. The focus on Amaterasu, her shrine at Ise, and the role of the sovereign as Heavenly Descendant was thus part of the overarching narrative that the Chroniclers tried to promote.  Still, hints that the focus on Ise shrine may have been something largely created in this era, however, are scattered throughout the existing literature, despite the Chroniclers' best efforts. For one thing, it is fairly clear that early on, the focus in the Chronicles is on  Mt. Miwa and the deity  Ohomononushi, rather than Amaterasu.  We also see the fingerprints of deities like Takami no Musubi, who in one story is the one who is actually responsible for sending the Heavenly Grandchild down to earth in the first place. It also seems telling that Amaterasu is not mentioned in earlier court rituals.  Worship of Amaterasu by the royal family takes place at Ise shrine.  Meanwhile, there are various rituals preserved within the traditions of the palace that include many other, seemingly older deities. I have also noted in the past how Ise shrine isn't even the primary shrine of Ise no Kuni.  In fact, that is claimed by Tsubaki shrine, the shrine to Saruta Hiko no Ohokami, with a separate shrine to Ame no Uzume, who are both said to have met the heavenly grandchild on his descent. None of this is to say that Ise Jingu was brand new at the time of the Chronicles' writing —there does seem to have been a shrine on that spot for some time, though even the Chronicles suggest that it might have been moved from a shrine originally housed in the Nara basin.  It is also possible, and even likely, that the rise of Ise and Amaterasu coincided with other trends at the time.  Even if the Sun Goddess had not always been centered in Yamato ritual, she was not a new deity, and it may have been the case that her prominence, and that of her shrine in Ise had been growing in prominence before this time, and so the court was now adopting that popularity for themselves.  Of course, Ohoama and Uno don't exactly spell out what they were attempting to achieve, beyond the unification of the archipelago, more broadly.  How, exactly, their focus on Ise Shrine was meant to play into that I don't know that I could fully state, but it certainly seems to have allowed the sovereign to create a new cultic focus for kami worship with a story that touched on regions from Kyushu all the way to the eastern shore of the Kii peninsula. Given the decentralized nature of kami worship, I don't believe it was possible to completely rewrite all of the stories—hence the numerous and conflicting accounts given in the Chronicles.  However, that is also what would have made it easier to hide newly fabricated—or perhaps simply exaggerated—stories in the mix.  And of course, it wasn't necessarily that the Chroniclers were creating things out of whole cloth, but they were able to choose those things that people would remember and what would be lost and forgotten over time.  They had to make the decision, for instance, which story they told was the "main" storyline, and which were listed as coming from "other books", implying a degree of separation from the truth. Through all of this, it certainly seems that propping up the royal family and its lineage was a central focus—even if that lineage was largely something that had recently been created.  As a reminder, we see a lot heavier reliance at this point on royal princes as opposed to other elite families, and an actual or implied reliance, in particular, on the royal family, as that is where Ohoama was consolidating most of the power and authority. Kitayama Shigeo coined the term "Koushin Seiji" to refer to this idea of a consolidated royal—or imperial—family managing the affairs of state.  Literally it is something like "Imperial Family Government".   In Shigeo's concept this was specifically an autocratic authority executed by the sovereign, and those of his immediate family.  Of course, writing in the post-war era, it is more than a little likely that Shigeo and others were looking at the concept of Tennou in the 20th century compared with many other world monarchs.  In that vein, the Asuka and Nara periods do seem to have been one of the rare times—perhaps even the last time—that the sovereigns had such a direct hand in the government and the making and establishment of law and tradition. That said, not everyone ascribes entirely to the idea that Ohoama was a completely autocratic despot—after all, it was clear that there were still plenty of powerful families in the archipelago, and the Ritsuryo state itself was also being strengthened.  Still, it does seem that Ohoama had brought his queen, Uno no Sarara, and his descendants into government.  And they would not only assist him, but continue his work for the next generations, such that even though the histories would not be finished until well after Ohoama's death, they would still show his influence on events. The dedication of the royal family to work as one is perhaps most clearly demonstrated in the events of the 5th lunar month of 679.  It was then that the sovereign, and his family, proceeded to the Yoshino Palace.  Now Ohoama had plenty of offspring—among them 10 sons.  And as long as he was around, there would be a certain amount of civility, but he knew all too well how things could break down after a sovereign's death.  And so he brought them together and he made them enter into a pact, which we know as the Yoshino Covenant, or Yoshino no Meiyaku.  Besides Ohoama himself, there were several others in attendance, presumably those who might stand to one day inherit the realm.  These included his partner and queen, Uno no Sarara Hime, as well as her son, Prince Kusakabe, who would be named Crown Prince, only a couple of years later.  It also included the Royal princes Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki.  All of these individuals were made to swear an oath to support each other, even though they were all from different mothers, and they agreed. But so what?  Why does it matter?  It is all well and good that Ohoama brought them together for a bit of kumbaya in his old digs away from the capital, but was there anything really to this covenant. This covenant is significant in several ways.  First off, it is clear that Ohoama was pulling in his family and trying to ensure they were onboard with what he was doing and what was planned.  Furthermore, it set out a clear line of succession, something that had not really been done up to this point. We have ideas on what would have made a candidate eligible, but other than naming a particular crown prince there hasn't exactly been any clear process or rules of precedence for who would assume the throne.  Here, though, we have a list that appears to be in order of precedence, since it otherwise may not seem to make sense, at least from a modern perspective. A key clue in the Chronicles is often the order of the names.  The most important or highest ranking person is usually given first, and then names are typically given in descending order of precedence.  There are clues that this is the case, but it becomes even more stark when we actually see reference to an individual's court rank or the size of their fief.  Since this period brings about court rank even for royal princes, we have some of that, at least in later records.  As such, there is the idea that this order was actually providing for a line of succession.   As I mentioned, up to this point, the contest for the throne was a toss up with each monarch's death.  Claims from competing princes were often considered equally valid until one proved their claim through a political or military victory.  Ohoama appears to have been trying to add greater structure to this.  Specifically, we see that Uno no Sarara's son, Kusakabe, is given pride of place.  In fact, throughout the Chronicle it is typical that we see the Chroniclers designate a queen—a Kougou—that is considered the primary wife.  This queen is almost always found to be the descendant of previous royalty, granting their child a doubly royal lineage, through both the maternal and paternal lines.   There has been plenty of reason to doubt that this was actually the case, and it often seems like the Chroniclers stretched things more than a bit to make it all work out.  However, now we are almost more concerned with the very *truth* that the Chroniclers were attempting to burn into the social consciousness rather than the historical facts, because that gives us direct insight into how the court of the day viewed succession and legitimacy.And that does lead to another possible thought:  since the Chroniclers knew how things turned out it is possible that they were the ones ensuring that the order was as we have it.  So we cannot definitively say that this exactly mirrors's Ohoama's idea, but it certainly seems in line with his history and intentions and helps set the stage for us, at least, regarding what would later transpire in regards to succession.. Getting back to the covenant, as I noted, the first person listed, after Ohoama and Uno no Sarara Hime, is Prince Kusakabe.  He would be about 17 or 18 years old at this time, which is probably why he wasn't formally named Crown Prince until a couple of years later.  He isn't the eldest son, however.  Rather he was the second son.  Ohoama's eldest son, Prince Takechi, was actually third in line. Takechihad been with his father helping to lead the troops during the Jinshin War. While he was some 8 years senior to Kusakabe, he was nonetheless a son of Amago no Musume, one of Ohoama's consorts from a powerful clan, but not a royal princess like Uno no Sarara, Kusakabe's mother. Between Kusakabe and Takechi, in the second place spot for succession, was actually Prince Ohotsu, whom we also mentioned during the Jinshin War.  Ohotsu was likely 16-17 years old around this time.  While he was the third eldest child, he, like Kusakabe, was the son of a Royal Princess, Princess Ota, daughter of Naka no Oe, giving him greater bonafides than Takechi, apparently. So, in the top three slots, we have: Ohoama's eldest son by a royal mother, Ohoama's second eldest son by a royal mother, and finally Ohoama's eldest son by a non-royal mother. Fourth in line, and the 4th eldest, presumably, though I don't know that we have an actual age for him, is Prince Wosakabe.  He likely wasn't too young, however, as he had been given the task, previously, to polish the divine treasures in Isonokami's storehouse. It would appear that six of Ohoama's other sons didn't even get a mention.  That includes Princes Naga and Yuge, born to another daughter of Naka no Ohoe, Ohoye no Himemiko.  Then there is Prince Toneri, son of Royal Princess Nittabe, not to be confused with Royal Prince Nittabe, Ohoama's son by way of a daughter of Fujiwara no Kamatari.  Finally there was Royal Prince Hodzumi, a maternal grandson of Soga no Akaye, and Prince Shiki, a full brother to Prince Wosakabe. Prince Toneri is particularly conspicuous in his absence.  We know that he held the 5th rank, and two positions in government—that of Nagon, or Councillor, as well as the Minister of the Household, our Kunaikyou.  This may be because he was not doing so well.  We aren't told the story until the following year, on the 2nd day of the 7th lunar month of 680, when we are told that Prince Toneri took ill and was on the point of death.  His half-brother, Prince Takechi, went to check on him, and a day later Toneri passed away.  The way these are written it would be easy to believe that it all happened in a pretty short timeframe, but it is also just as likely that illness lingered, especially without modern medicine.  So it is possible that Prince Toneri was too sick at the time of the original covenant, though there could be some other reason we weren't told. This doesn't necessarily hold for all of the others, though.  For instance, we have the Princes Naga and Yuge mentioned in 693, well over a decade later, being granted the 2nd Broader Pure Rank at the same time that Prince Takechi is granted the 1st Broader Pure Rank.  So we can at least see that they were ranked below Takechi.   Similarly we see Prince Hodzumi likewise attained 2nd Broader Pure Rank at some point, and was still around to have his own fief and to receive houses to it in the following reign.  Hozumi even ranked above some of the others were in Yoshino, and yet was not present. It is possible that the princes not mentioned, assuming they had not met with an untimely end that was not mentioned in the record somewhere, could have been too young or too junior at the time of the meeting.  After all, when we look at the known ages of those who were there, we see that Prince Takechi may have been 25 years old, but Prince Kusakabe and Prince Otsu were just under 20, and it is unclear if others were older or younger than they were. There are two other princes who were part of the covenant who were not, perhaps surprisingly, sons of Ohoama.  Rather they were his nephews, sons of Ohoama's brother, Naka no Ohoe.  They were the princes Kawashima and Shiki. Kawashima is mentioned several times throughout the record.  Kawashima's mother was from a high ranking noble family, but given that Kawashima was married to his cousin, one of Ohoama's daughters, that may have brought him closer to the family.  He was about 22 years old at the time, too.  We see him often teaming up with Prince Osakabe on various projects, including the project to compile together the history of the royal household.  In fact, Prince Kawashima always precedes Prince Osakabe when they are mentioned together.  That said, we have evidence of Kawashima only being awarded up to 3rd Greater Pure rank, below even that of some who were not present, such as Prince Hodzumi.  His importance and impact, however, is noted through his numerous appearances in the record. In contrast, Prince Shiki has almost no mentions in the record.  It doesn't help that there are two Princes Shiki, one born to Naka no Ohoye and one born to Ohoama.  Their names are spelled differently, however, and although the first character of "Shiki" used in the Yoshino record matches neither name, the second character suggests that this was the son of Naka no Ohoye and not the Shiki that was brother to Prince Osakabe—though given that one followed the other in the record, there may have been some confusion on this point. And with all of that we have our apparent line of succession, as well as an idea of who the movers and shakers might be within the royal family.  From Ohoama and Uno no Sarara, we have Princes Kusakabe, Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki.  Six princes, four directly descended from the current sovereign, Ohoama, and two from the Naka no Ohoe lineage. Obviously, promoting the idea of a strictly patrilineal succession of father to son would have caused some problems for Ohoama's own legitimacy, not that anyone was going to gainsay him while he was on the throne.  However, with Kusakabe they seem to have established that in a de facto format, at least.  Furthermore it provided a blueprint for succession might fall to the other lines should the main line not work out.  This put Prince Ohotsu as next in line, should anything happen to Kusakabe, followed by Takechi.  That Kawashima may have had a shot over Osakabe and then Shiki is interesting as it suggests that it wasn't strictly about who descended from whom. We'll have to wait for Ohoama's death before we can fully appreciate how well this worked, of course.  Throughout history, agreements and covenants amongst powerful interests are often only as permanent as long as all of the interests remain aligned with one another, whether through mutual benefit or threat of consequences.  Once the power shifts, as it always does, those promises and treaties are almost always up for renegotiation, unless they are supported by some higher authority, whatever that might be. Following the royal family's off-site, they returned to the palace in Asuka.  There they had a formal ceremony in the Great Hall, the Ohodono, where the six princes all demonstrated their allegiance and paid respects to Ohoama.  Given the timing of this event, one can likely assume that it was a kind of public acknowledgement of the covenant and the agreement that they would all be working together as a united front on the project of the government. And with that, I think we can bring it to  a close for now.  There is plenty more about this reign to discuss before we move on, but we'll get there. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Ask Me Anything and takeaways of the day featuring Andy, Randy, Beau, and Abe.

The Celtics blow the doors of the Grizzlies 131-95 and we finally got to see 48 minutes of great basketball. Granted, it came against a bad Grizzlies team that was also decimated with injuries but you have to love seeing good basketball regardless. Pritchard led the way in this one with 24pts alongside 6reb and 9ast and was making some insane passes out there getting everyone involved. This was also the first time this season where Derrick White truly looked like his old self which is great to see!This was another game where Queta and Luka Garza really played well contributing 13pts 8reb and 14pts 7reb respectively. Because of their strong play, the Celtics did out rebound Memphis 58-41 in this game! Overall, there are a lot of strong performances and not a lot of negative to talk about which isn't how a lot of these early season games have gone lol. The Celtics move to 6-7 on the year and have a very winnable stretch of basketball ahead of them!This podcast is brought to you by me, Guy DePlacido. I have been a Loan Officer servicing MA, NH and ME for the last 5 years so if you are looking to buy or refinance, reach out to me today at (978) 804-7756 or email me at guy.deplacido@ccm.com! Like the Boston Celtics, I know that you need a great team behind you to win so this year I am partnering with some of my favorites including Deb Burke, and Collin Tucker.If you're looking to buy or sell a home in the near future meet Deb Burke, your trusted realtor at Compass Real Estate, serving MA and NH. With a passion for finding dream homes, Deb is committed to making your real estate journey a breeze. Whether you're buying or selling, Deb's got your back. Reach out today at 978-930-4621 or email deb.burke@compass.com to start your next chapter. Let's turn your real estate dreams into reality!After getting preapproved with me and finding your home with Deb Burke, you'll want to make sure your home is protected and for that, there is nobody better than Collin Tucker at Berlin Insurance Group. Collin is a local agent but he is licensed in all of New England with over 20+ carriers for auto and home insurance guaranteeing the lowest quote possible. I have worked with Collin so many times not only for my clients insurance needs but mine as well. Reach out to Collin Tucker at Berlin Insurance Group at 508-459-1226 or Collin@berlininsurancegroup.comOne of my favorite things about the Celtics is how much they care and give back to the community and INspire Cafe is following that model too. Inspire Cafe is a Community Cafe in Wakefield on a mission to inspire change and creating a more inclusive world where individuals with diverse abilities are not just included but valued. If you're looking for, not only amazing food, but an opportunity to support a cafe that is inspiring change check out INspire Cafe in Wakefield today! 

Have you ever thought about...What a therapist, a grandma, and an organ donor teach you about service design?I know, this might sound like the start of a strange joke, but it gets to the heart of a big truth about our work. We invest a lot of time perfecting our journey maps, blueprints, and personas. But as we know, the challenges we work on won't be solved by a deliverable.They're solved through invisible "tools" like subtle influence, creating space for others, and building strategic relationships. So, where do you find these tools? Well, this episode is a great start.This episode is part of our "Inside Service Design" series, where we explore the real, unpolished practice of driving change from within organizations.And just like in the previous episodes you get to hear two brilliant in-house professionals, share some of their most powerful, non-traditional strategies. This time we're joined by Irina Damascan and Gina Mendolia.Gina walks us through her concept of "Setting the Trap" for engagement, and how she draws inspiration from the roles of therapists, coaches, and even grandmas to master the art of creating space and enabling teams to connect the dots themselves. Irina introduces a powerful model for influence she calls the "Organ Donor Chain," a strategic way to build networks of reciprocity by doing "favors" that enable change across the organization, often in unexpected ways.I have to say, it was refreshing to hear about effective mental models that go beyond design-as-usual, which aren't just theories but truly help to design better services.Want to add some (unconventional) tools that help you drive change to your toolkit? Grab your notebook and join us for this conversation.What's the most unconventional place you've found inspiration for your work? Maybe a different profession, a hobby, a movie? Share your inspiration in the comments on YouTube and let's continue the conversation there.Keep making a positive impact!~ Marc--- [ 1. GUIDE ] --- 00:00 Welcome04:30 Who is Ben06:00 How Heydn got his role07:15 What Heydn is currently doing08:15 Ben working at a financial services firm10:15 who Ben is reporting to11:30 where Autodesk sits13:15 what a good looks like for Heydn16:30 indicators of success17:30 what success looks like for Ben23:30 Why Context Determines Your SD Strategy27:00 Ben's topic: the first 90 days30:45 Heydn's key takeaway35:00 Making Your Map Complicated on Purpose37:00 Ben's takeaway43:00 the last time he has done the first 90 days46:45 Heydn reacting48:45 Learning things the hard way51:00 Ben's hard lessons55:00 what keeps him motivated57:30 what will Heydn get back there1:00:00 Ben to summarize1:00:30 Heydn's final words of wisdom --- [ 2. LINKS ] --- https://www.linkedin.com/in/heydnhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/benmccammon/ --- [ 3. CIRCLE ] --- Join our private community for in-house service design professionals. ⁠https://servicedesignshow.com/circle[4. FIND THE SHOW ON]Youtube ~ https://go.servicedesignshow.com/inside-service-design-06-youtubeSpotify ~ https://go.servicedesignshow.com/inside-service-design-06-spotifyApple ~ https://go.servicedesignshow.com/inside-service-design-06-appleSnipd ~ https://go.servicedesignshow.com/inside-service-design-06-snipd

In this podcast episode, Vulcan (aka Coach House) discusses the impact of modern conveniences on our capabilities and daily lives. He explores how technology, while beneficial, can lead to a decline in physical fitness, social interactions, and problem-solving skills. The conversation emphasizes the importance of auditing personal capabilities and being prepared for unexpected situations, ultimately questioning whether our reliance on convenience makes us more fragile.TakeawaysConvenience can lead to a decline in physical capabilities.Technology is a double-edged sword; it can enhance or hinder our skills.Social interactions are diminishing due to reliance on technology.We should regularly audit our personal capabilities.Being prepared for unexpected situations is crucial.Micro conversations with strangers enrich our lives.Functional fitness is essential for maintaining utility in daily life.The mind is our most powerful tool for problem-solving.Modern conveniences can create a false sense of security.We must reflect on what conveniences we take for granted.TitlesThe Tyranny of Convenience: Are We Losing Our Capabilities?Navigating Modern Life: The Impact of Technology on UsSound bites"What are we losing?""It's a thinking exercise.""What if it goes away?"Chapters00:00 Introduction to Convenience and Capabilities02:48 The Tyranny of Convenience05:53 Technology and Its Impact on Daily Life08:42 Social Interactions and Micro Conversations11:34 Functional Fitness and Utility14:17 Auditing Personal Capabilities17:26 Preparedness and Problem Solving20:12 The Fragility of Modern Life23:07 The Importance of Physical Activity25:46 Conclusion and Reflection on Convenience

The Liberals have officially dumped their 2050 net zero target, joining the Nationals, and sparking fresh chaos inside the Coalition. So what does this mean for the party’s future… and for Sussan Ley’s leadership? In this episode of The Briefing, Natarsha Belling speaks with Saturday Paper Special Correspondent Jason Koutsoukis to unpack the fallout. Headlines: Neo Nazi leader Thomas Sewell has been released from prison, a 17-year-old has been sentenced for the murder Vyleen White, and Australia’s first Treaty between First Peoples in Victoria and the Victorian Government has been signed. Follow The Briefing: TikTok: @thebriefingpodInstagram: @thebriefingpodcast YouTube: @TheBriefingPodcastFacebook: @LiSTNR Newsroom Image Credit: The Sydney Morning Herald/Alex EllinghausenSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Rutherford v. United States | 11/12/25 | Docket #: 24-820 24-820 RUTHERFORD V. UNITED STATES DECISION BELOW: 120 F.4th 360 CONSOLIDATED FOR ONE HOUR ORAL ARGUMENT WITH 24-860 CERT. GRANTED 6/6/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: The compassionate-release statute permits courts to reduce a prisoner's sentence if the court finds that "extraordinary and compelling reasons" warrant relief. 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A). Congress placed only two limits on what can count as an "extraordinary and compelling reason": (1) it must be "consistent with" "applicable policy statements" from the U.S. Sentencing Commission, id .; and (2) "[r]ehabilitation of the defendant alone shall not be considered an extra- ordinary and compelling reason," 28 U.S.C. § 994(t). Sections 401 and 403 of the First Step Act of 2018 reduced penalties for certain drug and firearm offenses going forward. Because of these changes, individuals sentenced today for these offenses often face mandatory minimum terms of imprisonment decades shorter than they would have received before the First Step Act. The question presented is: Whether, as four circuits permit but six others prohibit, a district court may consider disparities created by the First Step Act's prospective changes in sentencing law when deciding if "extraordinary and compelling reasons" warrant a sentence reduction under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A)(i). LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 23-1904

Fernandez v. United States | 11/12/25 | Docket #: 24-556 24-556 FERNANDEZ V. UNITED STATES DECISION BELOW: 104 F.4th 420 THE PETITION FOR A WRIT OF CERTIORARI IS GRANTED LIMITED TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: WHETHER A COMBINATION OF “ EXTRAORDINARY AND COMPELLING REASONS ” THAT MAY WARRANT A DISCRETIONARY SENTENCE REDUCTION UNDER 18 U. S. C. §3582(c)(1)(A) CAN INCLUDE REASONS THAT MAY ALSO BE ALLEGED AS GROUNDS FOR VACATUR OF A SENTENCE UNDER 28 U. S. C. §2255.   CERT. GRANTED 5/27/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A), a district court has broad discretion to reduce the term of imprisonment in any case if it finds that "extraordinary and compelling reasons warrant such a reduction." The sole limitation Congress placed on that discretion is found in 18 U.S.C. § 994(t), which provides that "[r]ehabilitation of the defendant alone shall not be considered an extraordinary and compelling reason." In reversing the district court's grant of compassionate release to Joe Fernandez, the Second Circuit held that it was an abuse of discretion for the court to have considered evidence bearing on Fernandez's potential innocence as well to have found a disparity in sentences between Fernandez and several of his co-defendants who were cooperating witnesses. That decision was contrary to decisions of the First and Ninth Circuits, which have each held that district courts are not restricted with respect to matters they may consider under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A) other than as set forth by Congress. The question presented is: Whether the Second Circuit erred in recognizing extra-textual limitations on what information a court may consider when determining whether there exist extraordinary and compelling reasons warranting a sentence reduction under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1) (A). LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 22-3122

Welcome to Sports By The Book -- November 11th, 2025 You LIVE sports. You LOVE sports. You BET sports. The key to winning your sports bets is information. You need an edge. Our professional betting specialist, Alex White gives you her favorite picks every show. Entertaining and enlightening, you're sure to collect on your sports bets more often after watching "Sports By The Book". Streamed LIVE from South Point Studio in the beautiful South Point Hotel & Casino. Get ready to up your game and get in on the action with the ultimate sports betting podcast - Sports By the Book. Subscribe: https://bit.ly/3WXUaD4 Special Guest: Ryan McCormick.

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An Angel For Bishop: Part 3 Willows tortured past exposes itself. In 4 parts, based on a post by BurntRedstone. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Once they were both clean they were breathing hard and standing facing each other. The moment he leaned towards her lips she surged forward to press hers against his. His tongue slipped forward to brush against hers and suddenly she was sucking at his tongue. His hands came up and cupped her breasts and he gently took her nipples between his thumb and finger, feeling the little gold barbells and rings dangle from them. Willow gasped into his mouth and he felt Willow's legs buckle a little. She was beginning to make those needy yips as she rolled her hips. She tugged, but he jolted back. "Willow, I don't have any condoms and I doubt Percy had the decency to put you on the pill. We can't." "I can't get pregnant," was all she said as she tugged at him. "What?" he gasped, as it was difficult holding a conversation with her. "The doctor made sure I couldn't have babies so it's okay," she said in a matter of fact tone. His head was spinning. He was still incredibly worked up and wanted to take Willow right now, but she'd just dropped a bomb from her past in his lap and his mind was reeling with the implications of her words. "Please! I need it!" she whined as he continued to hold her off while he tried to get his head back in the game. Willow dropped to her knees in one movement. First her lips were sliding, then her nose was buried against his stomach. He could feel her swallowing but he couldn't feel her breathing so he pulled back until he heard her gasp.  Willow got to her feet then turned around and put her hands against the shower wall, pushing her ass back. She rubbed him up and down her crack a few times. Dan grabbed her hips and Willow sighed. She was surprisingly tight and he couldn't get over how amazing she felt. Willow was moaning loudly and bearing down with her joyous cries she was loving every second. He could not exploit her vulnerable mental state, but knew that rejection was beyond her capacity to tolerate. So he continued to caress her and gently show her that she was precious and respected. The feeling of real love was enough to set her body into what seemed like multiple waves of ecstasy. Somehow Dan had found an amazing tool of therapy for this sexually abused woman. He pulled her back to stand upright. This sensation and her cries of joy triggered him. For good measure he gave her neck a gentle kiss and felt her trigger off again. He held her exhausted body suspended between his arm circling her chest and his other arm around her hip. She leaned back against his chest and her breath came out in deep gasps. Once their breathing had returned to normal Dan set her feet back on the floor. He looked at her and said "We need to talk about what you said about the doctor. I need to hear the whole story, but later." He tenderly washed between her legs. Then he shampooed and conditioned her hair once more. God he loved running his fingers through her hair and from the way she moaned and purred he knew she loved it too. He washed his hair, rinsed off, and turned the water off. They stepped out and dried off with their thick towels together. He replaced her bandages once more with dry ones. They padded into his bedroom and Dan remembered her clothes should be ready in the dryer. He quickly collected them and brought them back to her. He inspected the garments and saw the jeans were largely undamaged though there were some grease stains on the lower legs he suspected came from riding the motorcycle. Her shirt had a tear where the branch had pierced her shoulder. He could probably fix it but it wouldn't be pretty. He flipped it over and for the first time noticed the faded word across the back. It said 'Bitch'. He frowned. That asshole probably made her wear it. He wouldn't let her wear this again. He ripped it in two between his hands. He looked up and saw Willow staring at him wide eyed. "Sorry, the shirt had a word on it that doesn't belong on you. You won't be wearing clothes like that with me. You deserve better," he said. She smiled shyly at him. He saw she was struggling to get the bikini top on. Now that he was an 'expert' he showed her how to tie the lower string first under her tits (while struggling to keep his hands off of them), spin the knot around to the back, and pull the cups up, tying the top strings behind her neck. With his hands behind her neck, feeling her damp but now much smoother hair caressing his hands he saw she was looking into his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly. He just wanted to feel her amazing lips on his as her kiss was so sweet. Willow's eyes closed and she swayed a little when he pulled back. His heart hurt she was so lovely. How anyone could hurt someone so beautiful was beyond him. He pulled her into a hug and squeezed her body against his, wanting to protect her with his strength and relishing the intimacy. Her arms wrapped around his chest and he felt her shiver. He pulled back and looked at her questioningly. He saw tears sliding down her cheeks. "What's wrong?" he asked gently. "I've never felt like this before," she whispered and hiccupped. "I feel so safe in your arms." She clung to him and pressed her face against his neck. He squeezed her to him again, feeling her tremble against him. They stood like that for a while. Once her trembling calmed he stepped back and gave her a smile which she returned. Her eyes glowed and she seemed as relaxed as he'd ever seen her. Chapter 3 Dan gave Willow a tour of the 'log cabin' which was more accurately described as a log mansion. He was rather proud of the building as it showcased his engineering expertise. The building was all on one level and followed the natural contours of the hillside in a serpentine curve with a magnificent view of the surrounding mountains, or in this case the blizzard which continued to rage into its second day. Under the gleaming hardwood flooring the entire structure was built on a poured concrete base with in-floor heating courtesy of a complex network of piping linked to the hot springs and an even more complex computer control system. The power needed to support the electronics and the rest of the house was fed by a huge series of batteries stored in an underground bunker built into the hillside. This array was on a constant trickle feed from multiple sources. Wind turbines, solar panels, geothermal, and even a small hydro turbine generator tapping into an underground river they discovered during construction. All said, they had energy to spare. Beyond the amazing array of technology he'd built into the mansion the building contained all the comforts you could ask for. There was a huge living room with a large stone fireplace surrounded by deep comfy couches and facing a panoramic view of the mountainside. A large deck started on the northern side of the house and wrapped around to the western side to create a huge, two level socializing area in front of the living and dining room windows. Behind the living room built into the mountain was a large home theatre with stadium seating for twelve, three rows of four comfy recliners. Next to the living room was a large dining room with a massive polished slab of shiny hardwood for a table and seating for twelve. The next room was the kitchen which Willow was familiar with. There was an enormous pantry off the kitchen and a second door which led to the communications/control center for the house which doubled as a safe room. The table in the kitchen sat six and there was a deck accessible by a door next to the table. Exiting from the other side of the kitchen was a corridor which had the laundry room on one side, a utility room on the other, and continued on to the five big guest bedrooms each having a small seating area and a dedicated full washroom. The final bedroom was the master which had an enormous washroom suite, a walk-in closet, and a decent sized office. On the uphill side of the building at this point was the garage, a concrete and steel bunker built right into the mountainside. It was deep and wide enough for eight vehicles and at its far end was a complete metal and wood working workshop with all the required tools for maintaining the house. The roof deck of the garage was the home for communication dishes, a large greenhouse with a pool area again heated by the hot spring. There was interior access to the pool area by a spiral staircase in the garage. When Dan led Willow back to the kitchen she was looking a little overwhelmed. "So... you're rich?" she asked quietly. "Rich?" he replied in surprise. Then he smiled and said "I designed and built the home but it's not mine. I just live in it during the winter months when no one else is here. The home is owned by the Noskov family from Russia. They are... incredibly rich, and generous. I was unofficially adopted by the Noskov's when I... helped get them out of a hot zone in Iraq during the war. They let me build them this house and I get to live in it. They also set me up with a... trust fund I guess you'd call it. When I need something I can tap into it. I don't think I'm rich but I'm pretty comfortable. I mean I have my engineering degree and the stuff I learned building this house has set me up in a very lucrative business of designing custom energy systems for people wanting to live off the grid. I have patents pending on several of the components and their designs. There is also a waiting list of customers wanting me to design for their specific environments. I can do most of that right from here. All that brings in a good income... huh, maybe I am rich or at least have the potential to be!" he smiled at the delight in Willow's eyes. Dan busied himself making some herbal tea. It still wasn't time for dinner yet but a snack would be good. He wanted to ensure Willow started taking in the calories she needed to get back to a healthy weight. He dropped some bread slices in the toaster and pulled out the peanut butter. He poured the tea and sweetened it for Willow. He spread the peanut butter on toast watching it melt. Then he stopped. Dan was pissed at himself again but he kept that anger inside so he wouldn't spook Willow. He just made an assumption that might have been really bad for her. "Willow, are you allergic to anything? Like nuts?" he asked. "I don't think so," she replied. "Have you eaten peanut butter before? Do you like it?" Dan asked. "Yes, I love peanut butter but I've never had it on toast," she said. Dan shook off the tremble that crept up his back. He needed to know more about her to prevent something like this from happening again. He saw the notepad was still on the table. He carried the herbal teas to the table then brought Willow her peanut butter toast. She looked at him when she saw he didn't have any toast in front of him. "You need the calories. I'll wait for dinner," he said with a smile. Willow carefully picked up her toast and took a small bite. When the warm peanut butter hit her tongue a broad smile spread across her face. "I LOVE peanut butter toast!" she gushed. She took a few more bites. He grinned at her delight and picked up the notepad. After a sip of his tea he looked at Willow and asked "I hope you don't mind but I'd like to see how much more of your history we can fill in." She continued to munch on the toast and sip at the tea but gave him a nod. "Do you recall the name of the man Percy, uh, took you from?" He still felt weird saying that. "Herman Denk. He was a doctor. He gave me my new tits and fixed me so I couldn't make babies or have a period." she said. Dan's stomach clenched. She said it like it was nothing but Dan was grateful to Percy for having killed the bastard who butchered Willow for his own needs and enjoyment. He took a deep breath and wrote down the Doctor's name and the approximate year he died. "Do you recall how long you lived with Herman? How many winters or summers?" he asked her next. Willow looked confused then sad. "Herman lived in Las Vegas and I stayed inside in my room most of the time when he wasn't taking me out to parties. I don't remember how long that was but I think I stayed with him the longest. Before we moved to Las Vegas we were in Florida. That's where he poisoned and killed Officer Warren Greggs and took me from him. Officer Greggs used his handcuffs on me a lot and beat me because I wasn't worthy of having sex with him. That's where these scars came from." She showed him the rough white ridges encircling both of her wrists. Obviously the cuffs had done some serious damage to her skin at that time as the scar tissue was extensive. "He kept me chained in a room in his basement. When I got sick Officer Greggs brought Herman to fix me. We moved to Las Vegas after Officer Greggs was dead." Dan was feeling a little queasy but while Willow was feeling talkative he'd get the information from her. As long as he had names and knew they had died he could find their obituaries and work out a timeline from that. He jotted down some notes and nodded at Willow to continue. "Madam Tallia was my Mistress before Officer Greggs took me from her. She lived in a big old house in Georgia. She was angry a lot. She had been hurt in a car accident and she lost her eye. She wore a fancy eye patch but her mouth was so cruel. She told me I looked just like the bitch who destroyed her beauty. She would tie me up and burn my arms and legs with her cigarettes." Willow pointed out a few of the older circular scars running up her arms. "She told me that she was saving my face for later. I was always terrified that she was going to burn my face. Officer Greggs was at one of her parties. He found me tied up in my bedroom and put me in the trunk of his car. He told me he burned Mistress Tallia's house down with her inside." Willow took a long sip of her tea to moisten her throat as she was unaccustomed to talking for so long. "Mistress Tallia got me from Mr. Bill who brought me to one of her parties. Mistress Tallia called him Buffalo Bill because she said he was from that 'miserable place'. She told me that she wasn't going to give me back to Mr. Bill. She told me she gave him poisoned heroin so he wouldn't come back to get me the morning after the party and he didn't so I guess he's dead. When I was with Mr. Bill we moved around a lot and we lived out of his car. I don't remember his last name. Sometimes he gave me drugs and I would forget things. He loaned me out to people who gave him drugs and took me to lots of sex parties. I think Mr. Bill bought me from my mom's boyfriend when she died." Willow's voice ran out at that point. It was the longest Dan had ever heard her speak and while the subject matter was horrific to him, he was so glad that he got her story. He could work with this. "Do you remember your mom's name?" he asked gently. She thought about it then shook her head sadly. "Do you remember how old you were when your mom died?" he asked. Willow sat quietly for a minute thinking. "I remember... a tenth birthday party. I think it was shortly after that when some men came to the house looking for mom's boyfriend. I was playing outside but I heard them yelling 'where is he'. When they left I went inside and she was dead. When her boyfriend got home he took me with him in the car and we drove away. He met Mr. Bill at a truck stop on the highway and sold me to him." Dan sat looking at Willow. He couldn't breathe. His chest felt tight. Her mother was murdered when she was 10 and she was immediately sold off into the sex trade and slavery? How could that not screw you up? He opened his arms and Willow was immediately curled up on his lap and in his arms. They sat like that for quite a while, just holding each other and rocking gently. It gave Dan time to think. Dan felt completely inadequate for the task of healing Willow. He knew he could love her and was surprised that he was already starting to feel that way towards her. He reminded himself that they'd only met the day before and there'd been a lot of intense emotion involved in that short time. Before he started throwing words like love around he needed to get some perspective. Difficult to get when her soft body was clinging to him. Based on her account she'd been held captive by five people and had been raped and tortured multiple times by them and raped by many others starting from a very early age. Now she was with him. Was she better off? He'd already had sex with her, multiple times in the very short time he'd known her. And he'd killed for her as they had. He was willing to grant that in his case at least it really had been kill or be killed and her life was at risk at the time. That said it was easy for him to see how similar he was to previous 'masters'. God, his skin crawled when he thought of himself in those terms. Maybe that was the difference? He didn't want to be her master. He wanted her to be a whole person. He wasn't sure that was going to be possible considering her past. But he knew he would do what he could to help her regain as much as she could. He felt so protective of her! He wasn't clear where that came from but it certainly didn't seem harmful to her so he felt okay about letting her see that. The first thing he could do to help her was get her identity back. With the information he had an investigator should be able to connect the dots to get back to the start. Then he could get her birth certificate, then a passport, an identity. Maybe it was just his paranoia but he wanted a discreet investigation. There had been at least one police officer involved in her abduction and Percy's gang was not going to be too friendly to someone who killed one of their members. He was again over his head but he knew someone that could help. "I could stay here all day holding you but I need to make a call and send a note. I have to report Percy's death to the police or things could get messy. And I have to contact Andrei Noskov, the man who owns this house, to ask a favor. I thought we'd cook up a frozen pizza for dinner tonight. Can I ask you to go to the walk-in freezer in the garage and pick one out? They're on the rack to the left and there should be a supreme on top but any will do." She stood and headed off to the garage. Dan walked into the communications room and checked the signal strength. The storm seemed to be winding down but it still had the potential for affecting the line of sight antenna. He'd prefer not to use the satellite phone to contact the police as he wasn't sure how long he'd be on the line. He used the PC to dial up the nearest state police station and waited for someone to answer. He heard some weird stuttering on the line so he knew his connection was fairly weak. When someone finally answered he asked for Officer Benson or Officer Duncan as he'd met them and his instincts said they were okay. Not the best gauge but it was what he had. Benson was gone for the day but Duncan was just coming on shift so Dan was put through to his desk. "Officer Duncan." He sounded tired. "Hello, my name's Dan Bishop. I live at the Noskov Estate off Mountain Road 23 up on Peacemill Peak. I need to report a traffic accident, a shooting, and a fatality." "Sorry, Mr. Bishop, this seems to be a bad line. Did you say a fatality?" Officer Duncan asked. "Yes, a fatality. Sorry about the poor connection. The line of sight towers up here on the mountain are having some trouble with the storm." "Can you give me the details before we lose our connection?" the officer asked. The connection must have sounded worse on his end. "Sure. I was driving back to the house yesterday when that storm hit. I was just about back to the house when I noticed someone hung up on one of the trees hanging over the edge of the cliff. I stopped and went to see if I could help. There was a trike motorcycle on a ledge 50 feet down and a badly injured man. He'd gone through the guardrail. I tried to climb up to the woman stuck in the tree but the man woke up and started shooting at us. He shot at me and then he hit the woman twice. Once in the arm and once on the side of her helmet. I had to drop the broken guardrail on him to stop him from shooting her. He fell to the bottom of the gorge with his motorcycle. He's dead. Did you get all that?" There was silence for a bit and Dan thought he'd lost the connection when Officer Duncan's voice came back on. "Yeah, I got it. Is there any access to that gorge?" "I don't think so. It's very narrow and the river in it is pretty wild most of the year. I have a buddy with a Sikorsky cargo helicopter that might be able to lower someone with a line from above but it would be a long hairy ride down. Anyway, I can send you the GPS coordinates. I had the entire area mapped when we were building this place." "What about the woman?" Officer Duncan asked. "I got her back to the house before she froze to death and patched her wounds which appear to be pretty minor. She's suffering from malnutrition and her weight is very low. She may have some memory loss as she has been unable to recall her name. She did remember the name of the man she was with. Percy Jackson. From the marking I saw on his jacket I think he may have been a member of a motorcycle gang, maybe the Blood Brothers. I have no idea what he was doing trying to drive his bike up this mountain road in a snow storm. Makes no sense to me." "Damn, that complicates things considerably. The Feds are going to want in on this. When can you come in for a statement?" the officer asked. "In about four months," Dan replied. "What?" came the shocked reply. "Sorry, but the mountain road is closed for the season. It will remain blocked with snow until the spring. We're completely snowed in. I can get extra supplies air dropped in but us getting out is up to Mother Nature," he explained. "OK, but I can reach you at this number?" "As long as the storms aren't interfering with the connection, yes," Dan answered. "Thank you Mr. Bishop. I'll be contacting you once I find out how the Feds want to handle this." After signing off Dan looked over to see Willow standing in the doorway watching him. He gave her a smile which she returned. "I just have to send a note to Andrei to fill him in. Can you come over here a minute?" She approached him and sat on his lap when he indicated he wanted her to sit. He turned on the webcam on the PC and they posed for a quick snapshot. Then he asked her to look into the camera and took a close up of just her face. "I'm going to send these along to Andrei. The family is going to be very curious about you and Andrei will need the close up for his investigator. I'm going to ask him to have them do some discreet searches based on the information you gave me. One thing you should know, as Andrei is a Russian national, all of my communications with him are very likely monitored by Homeland Security. I'm not worried about it but I just wanted you to know as well. Okay?" he asked. Willow nodded at him with wide eyes. He just smiled at her with wonder at how good she made him feel. He gently pulled her face down to his and kissed her tenderly. She moaned a little and hugged him fiercely. After he returned her hug he had her stand again so he could prepare the email for Andrei. Willow sat on the floor beside his chair and rested her head on his thigh. He was going to protest but she looked so content he turned back to the keyboard. Once he had described the events of the past two days (omitting the racy bits) and included the chronology he'd gotten from Willow he completed the note to Andrei, attached the images and sent it off. He turned back to Willow and ran his fingers through her hair. He felt her purr in pleasure at his touch. He tucked a tablet PC under his arm, helped lift Willow to her feet then they walked back into the kitchen. Dan started the oven, slid the pizza inside, and set the timer. Dan took her hand and they walked into the living room. They sat together on one of the sofas and snuggled under a blanket while they waited for the pizza. "Speaking of comfortable..." he smiled and continued "I think we'd better order you some clothes and other items you may need." Willow looked out the window at the continuing blizzard and back at him. "How?" was all she could say. Dan smiled at her and pulled a tablet PC from under the blanket. "Through the magic of the Internet!" he said with a flourish. All he got for his theatrics was a puzzled expression. "Okay, I'll let you in on the secret. We order stuff and get it delivered to my buddy Wally's place. Then he delivers it by air drop in the meadow just past the small forest to the east of the house. Wally's a pilot and enjoys the challenge of precision payload delivery. I'll set up the target and he drops the delivery bundle on it. If he's within 3 feet of the target I owe him a beer. If not, he owes me one." Willow was still looking at him like he was a little nuts so he just flipped on the tablet and proceeded to load up the webpage for an online clothing retailer. First he had to figure out her size. He found the help page and saw how he needed to determine her measurements. He gave Willow the tablet and rushed off to the workshop where he grabbed a cloth tape measure. Granted it had a one hundred foot spool and was used for more industrial purposes but it would work. He grabbed the pencil and pad on the way back to Willow and asked her to stand. Using the tape measure he recorded her measurements on the pad and Willow had a good giggle at how flustered Dan got when he had to measure her for a bra. Now that he had the details out of the way Dan took Willow through the webpages where she could see the clothes. Dan watched her face to see if she liked any of the clothes but when she didn't react to any of them he started to suspect she didn't realize what they were doing. "Willow, do you understand I want to buy you some clothes? Have you ever gone shopping for clothes?" he asked. She glanced at him and shook her head. "So people just brought you clothes and you wore them whether you liked them or not?" he asked. She nodded but had a puzzled look on her face. "OK, I'd like you to try imagining yourself in one of the outfits you see on this page and let me know which one you think might look good on you and be nice to have." Willow looked at the models on the page and turned her eyes back to him. "Which ones do you like?" she asked. That stopped him short. He realized that she couldn't make this kind of decision. She'd been basically a living dress up doll for quite possibly most of her life and only wore clothes at the whim of her 'masters' to please them. Well, he wasn't going to make her feel bad about it now. He turned his eyes back to the page and studied what the models were wearing. He finally clued in that he had no idea how to dress a woman. Guys were easy; undershirt, shirt, underwear, pants, socks and you're done. Mixing and matching? Please. He needed help. Female help. He heard a chirping and realized he had an incoming call on the PC. He got up again and hustled into the communications room. Willow was right behind him. He sat and she sunk to kneel next to his chair. He suppressed his annoyance as her reaction might just be an automatic reaction for her. He'd talk to her about it later. Dan answered the call and Kira Noskov's face appeared on the screen. At her elbow was her youngest daughter, Katya. The picture was choppy as the signal was weak but that didn't diminish the brilliance of the woman's smile as she greeted him. "Hello Daniel! We received your message and I wanted to call you immediately to congratulate you two! You make a beautiful couple! I've been telling you for years to find yourself a woman. You've finally taken my advice!" she laughed. Dan realized that Kira read more into the photo he'd sent of Willow sitting on his lap than he'd intended. He looked down at Willow and saw the smile on her face and knew he couldn't try to explain it now. "Thank you Kira! And hello Katya!" "Svetlana is crying, DanDan. She is not happy," Katya said, using her pet name for him. Kira looked pained then apologetic. "Not to worry Daniel, Svetlana has been holding onto her hero worship too long. She will grow from this and her tears will dry." Dan's expression froze and twitched as he realized he'd fucked up again and hurt the young girl unintentionally. He knew she'd had a crush on him. They had a strong bond from what they'd gone through together. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt her." His PTSD surfaced with a series of twitches. Kira's voice grew firm, "Daniel, stop this. You are not responsible for Svetlana's happiness or tears." She turned to Katya and said something quietly to the girl who vanished out of the frame. Willow got worried at Dan's stricken expression so she stood and took his face in her hands and turned his face to hers so she could look into his eyes. He was slightly dazed but his eyes came back into focus when they were looking into the vibrant green depths of Willow's eyes. He heaved a sigh and came back to the present. Kira witnessed the transformation with a satisfied smile on her face. There were tears in the corners of her eyes as she saw her friend pulled back from an attack. She was convinced that this young woman was just the medicine her Daniel had been missing all of these years. She didn't approve of his self-imposed solitude but he hadn't listen to her protests. She didn't know anything else about this woman but she was good for him, this much she knew. Svetlana appeared in the picture and took in the shaken expression on Dan's face and the beautiful woman holding him. Her jealousy flared terribly to see another woman touching Dan. She'd vowed she'd marry him so many years ago when he'd saved her and her family. But she couldn't bear the thought that she'd caused him pain. Above all else she knew the scars he carried from that day and how long he'd struggled with them. "Da, Daniel! I am so pleased to see you looking well! Please know that I am well and happy for you! Do not worry about me! I have many friends here and many boyfriends- I mean many who would like to be my boyfriend!" she corrected herself before her mother could protest. She looked at the annoyed expression on her mother's face then gave Daniel one more forced smile and left the picture." Kira came back into the picture. "If there is anything we can do Daniel please let us know." Dan pulled himself together and looked at Willow with gratitude. "First off, I'd like to introduce you officially to Willow." Willow smiled uncertainly at the screen but Kira graciously took the conversation from there. "Hello Willow! My name is Kira. I am so pleased to meet you!" Uncertain what to do as she'd never spoken to anyone over a computer before much less been allowed to speak without permission Willow just nodded her head towards the screen. Dan rubbed her back and felt her jump slightly at his touch then she climbed up and snuggled on his lap. Dan was uncomfortable with such a display in front of Kira but couldn't scold her for the damage that might do. Kira seemed to be enjoying his blush as she wore a big grin on her face. Then he thought of something. "There is one thing I would like to ask of you actually. I have no clothes for Willow here at the house and we're snowed in. I was going to order some online and have Wally airdrop them but I have no idea what to order. I've never had to buy women's clothes before and Willow hasn't ever chosen her own clothes. If I gave you the credentials for my online account could I ask you to shop for the clothes she'll need for the next 4 months?" "That I can do! Send me her measurements and I will place the order," Kira said with a smile. "Thank you so much! Please speak to Svetlana for me! You know I think the world of her, and Irina and Katya! I would never do anything to hurt them!" he blurted and glanced awkwardly at the blond curled on his lap. Kira made placating gestures. "They know you do and they all love you for it. Some a little too strongly. Not to worry Daniel. Because they love you they understand. I will speak with you soon as will Andrei. Goodbye, Willow!" and she disconnected. To Be Continued in part 4, based on a post by BurntRedstone for Literotica

The Time Riders: Part 3 What happens when you mix clock-block with priapism? Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Ain't Nobody Got Time For That Shit! Mark and Becky sat in the small cottage, looking around in wonder. They were still in Seventeenth Century France, but found themselves surrounded by technologies that they hadn't even heard of. The walls were lined with clocks, some of which were mechanical, some seemed to be digital or binary, while others told time in ways they couldn't fathom. Sitting across from them at the stout, round oaken table, Chester Edgerton smoked a pipe and observed them casually. "How; how can you have this all out on display?" Mark asked, still gaping. "I mean, isn't it against the rules to have this sort of tech from the future lying around where the locals might bump into it?" "That's the beauty of it, my' boy," he said cheerfully, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "They can't see it." "Well, I get it if you try to restrict entry to your house," Mark pressed, wanting to understand. "But what if you're gone and bandits break in? Becks and I can account for banditry in this day and age, for sure." "Mayhap," the man replied. "But I brought you through the door that leads to my actual house. The front door, the one the local peasantry sees, leads into a simple cottage, typical of the period, and owned by a pudgy man of indeterminate nationality." "Your; house is in two places at once?" Mark asked, trying to understand. "No, it's the same place," Chester answered simply. "Two different times, however. We're sitting in my actual abode, Twenty-First Century." Mark shook his head. "That's some weird Tardis shit right there." "Only at first." Chester allowed. "I notice you have all your windows shut," Becky remarked. "You said we're in the Twenty-First Century, but I take from further ahead than Mark and I are from, so you're not showing us?" "Clever girl," mused the man, smiling. "While I won't absolutely stop you from looking or even going outside, I would warn you that if you do and see something you don't like, you're committing yourself to that future, no matter how hard you try to undo it." "We'll stay put then," she said readily. "You were kind enough to bring us here and sort of explain how we might acquire goods in the time stream?" He nodded. "I know it might seem counter-intuitive, but the simple fact of the matter is that if people are going to insist on time travelling, the least they can do is be well-prepared for it so they don't hurt themselves or others." He leaned forward. "The first question you need to ask yourself is, why are you so intent on time-travelling to begin with? Is it simple curiosity? Are you planning to make a living somehow? Are you just trying to get laid?" He looked at Mark during this last question and the young man blushed, while Becky giggled and patted his hand. "Mark was a dud in Physics in his last year of high school," she explained. "Come to think of it, he was in little or no danger of getting into any post-secondary education facility." "Thanks." Mark muttered. "But, then he found his time machine, something called a Holmes Field Device, and he resolved to go back in time a few months and convince me to give him an A in Physics with the promise of earth-shaking sex." "This story sounds worse every time I hear it." Mark complained. "Fortunately, I acquiesced, rather than disemboweling him for breaking into my home, and not only did we become lovers, but now we're adventuring the time stream together." "Hmm, a teacher and a student, eh?" mused the man, smiling at them as he smoked. "Teachers and students are plentiful, of course, but they're usually from the far, far future and on very strictly-controlled excursions into the past. Hands-on history classes, if you will." "That makes history sound kinda fun." Mark said. "Oh, I daresay it is," agreed Chester. "Nothing quite as exciting as going back to the Cretaceous Period and taking a ride on the back of a trained Styracosaurus. Or watching Dromer races." "Isn't that screwing with the timeline?" Becky inquired. "I mean, humans weren't around for another sixty-three million years following the demise of the dinosaurs." "It's all very carefully regulated on remote islands," Chester explained. "It does nothing to mess with the ecosystem and the specimens are trained to interact with humans, for the most part." "Riding one of those big horned dinosaurs would be a kick." Mark mused, grinning. "You've already got a perfectly good horn I like to ride," Becky giggled, squeezing his hand again. "Besides, this is where our host tells us that it won't be possible for us any time soon." "You're a very perceptive young lady," he allowed. "We can't have just anyone mucking up the time stream, you know. It's especially difficult when people who lived before time travel was commonly accepted try to get involved. They inevitably get exposed to technologies they shouldn't be aware of, or events that weren't known during their own time;” "I'll give you a tiny example," he said, leaning forward now, as if he was confiding a secret. "Have you heard of the Tunguska Incident?" "Sure, the Tunguska region in Siberia, 1908," Becky answered, nodding. "A large meteor slammed into the ground, creating a blast equal to sixty megatons and flattening everything for nearly a hundred miles around." "No, that's what you need to think," he corrected, pointing the stem of his pipe toward them. "It was, in fact, an advanced weapon that was stolen from a future date, and before temporal agents could recover it, the thieves blew it up to cover their escape. Granted, there are people in your time who have conspiracy theories about nuclear blast, nearly forty years before the first atomic tests, but they're wrong as well. It wasn't a nuclear device, simply a weapon with an incredibly high conventional yield by your age's standards." "So; why can you tell us this now?" Becky asked. He grinned and spread out his arms in a gesture of farce. "Who would believe you?" "So how did you know that we were time travelers?" Mark asked as they followed their host and guide through the woods. "Well, I heard snippets of your conversation," Chester said as he led the way. "But to be honest, even though your outfits might pass with locals for 'reasonably authentic', you couldn't possibly hide your origins from a fellow time-traveler. Mark claimed to be Spanish, he doesn't look at all Spanish, certainly not from this era. Miss Rebecca is remarkably tall for a woman." "Well there's something I don't hear very often back home!" she giggled. "And you're both in strangely good health, with unblemished skin and full heads of hair," Chester added. "I was relatively certain, and then I heard you discussing your relative inexperience, so I sought to introduce myself." "I'd' have thought that you wouldn't introduce yourself to newbies," Mark stated, helping Becky over a log. "Isn't it safer to keep your chatter to people who know what they're doing?" "It's actually the exact opposite," replied Chester. "The best thing you can do around veteran time travelers you don't need to talk to is to not talk to them. Their timelines are probably very intricate and you don't want yours getting snarled up with them. Newbies, as you call them, probably still have linear experiences that are simple to understand and educating them about what awaits is the simplest way to keep things from getting weird." Getting up to leave the cottage, Mark asked; "So this device the time cops gave me," Mark stated, holding up his chronometer. "It's actually pretty useful then, because it warns me when I'm getting too close to myself or something I've affected." "That was very generous of them," Chester said in a serious tone. "They don't do that for just everyone who shows up suddenly in the time stream. Sometimes they let matters work themselves out, if you know what I mean." Chester's Forest Farewell.  The meadow they stepped into, had a mature lush forest further back. They reached a small clearing in the forest they'd been tromping through and stopped for a bit, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. Chester looked at them both and slapped his hands on his thighs. "Now then, I've brought you here so that you can witness a casual event that is due to happen just outside the woods. Nothing major, but it will give you a taste of what can await you. I have something to attend to and should be back in a few hours. Just stay out of sight and don't leave the tree line." "You're leaving?" Mark protested. Chester turned to look at him. "It might be that the events you will see unfold work better for me if I am nowhere near them," the man replied. "Fear not, I shall return. Enjoy yourselves." And then he walked into the woods and was gone. Mark looked around and finally sighed. "Helluva way to mentor someone," he muttered as he stood to take in a panoramic context. "Take 'em somewhere and then just fuck off? Nice." "He's not your mentor, Mark," Becky chided, sitting on a log and smiling at him. "He's a fellow time traveler who is doing you a favor. He's given you plenty of valuable information free of charge already, something I doubt he does frequently." "Well, okay," Mark allowed. "So, we just wait until we see something happen?" "No idea when that'll be, he didn't really tell us, did he?" Becky pointed out. "Yup," Mark sighed. "So, now what?" Becky tilted her head slightly as she looked at him, like there was something wrong with his brain. "Here's an idea. How about you come over here and fuck me?" Mark was so determined to be bent out of shape for having no instructions that he'd overlooked the completely obvious. He laughed and stepped forward, pulling Becky to her feet. They were holding their hands between them and staring into one another's eyes, smiling. "Now this is what time travel is all about," she purred, her eyes shining with delight. "You're going to fuck me in the woods in Louis the Sun King's France, Mark. For all we know, this is some sort of royal ground and we're trespassing. How many people can say they've done that?" "Just the lucky ones;” he replied, beginning to unfasten the clasps on her dress, freeing her chest from its confines. As the dress fell away, she was left standing on in a low-cut, blouse-like shirt and some panties, having chosen to forego the usual layers of buntlings and knickers. She bit her lip as he pulled her blouse over her head, exposing her glorious tits. Kneeling now, he slowly slid her panties down, feeling a thrill as her hairless, smooth cunt came into view. She stepped out of the tiny thong panties, letting him drink in the sight of her. Yes, he'd been with her for over a week now in France, but he never tired of seeing her beautiful body. "Your turn now, my lord." Becky whispered as she began removing his clothing, peeling away the layers until he was as naked as herself. She stood up again and moved close, her nipples gently kissing against his chest. Unable to hold back any more, Mark pulled his teacher to him and kissed her deeply, making Becky moan into his mouth. Their hands wandered over one another's now-familiar forms, seeking to stimulate, tease and pleasure. His hands found her pert ass cheeks and he squeezed them, causing her to moan again. "Hmm, can't wait to get some grass stains on this dress," she murmured, looking up into his eyes. "And maybe a few on my knees." She slowly knelt in front of Mark, kissing and nipping at his skin on the way down. His swelling phallus was in front of her face now and she licked her lips hungrily before taking gentle hold and kissing it. Mark closed his eyes and shivered, loving the feel of her lips on him. Everything about his teacher was incredible. He was just sorry it had taken so long to realize it. Becky now had the head of his cock inside her warm, wet mouth, swirling her tongue around flicking the tip of her tongue against him. She giggled as his rod throbbed and grew longer and harder. She loved how turned on he could get by her, it made her feel so primal and sexual. She then slid her mouth a little further down his shaft before pulling back, shivering in delight at the sight of his glistening skin. Mark's fingers were in her hair and flexing gently as she began to bob back and forth, taking more and more of him into her mouth. She hummed lightly, vibrating her lips around him and making him groan. Her hand rested on the shaft, pumping as it followed her lips, making a gentle twisting motion on the sensitive skin. Becky loved sucking cock, and Mark's was ridiculously perfect for her, in just about every possible way. She hoped that wouldn't be a problem down the road. She took gentle hold of his hips with both hands and moved back and forth along his shaft, breathing through her nose as she deep-throated him. Mark groaned in pleasure, his fingers flexing into her scalp and tugging her hair. She looked up at him, maintaining eye contact, which she knew he found so erotic. She could feel his skin growing warm and knew now was the time to stop and change things up if she intended to have his cock inside her. There was indeed one good thing about them being out of sync, with her current self three months behind him; they already knew she wasn't pregnant in his current timeline, so he could cum deep inside her as much as they liked. She pulled her mouth off his with a wet 'pop!' and smiling seductively. "I'm thinking maybe my girl wants to say hello too;” she purred. Mark nodded and spread out her dress before lying down on it, his rock-hard cock standing straight up and throbbing. Becky crawled over him, straddling his face, her creamy, wet cunt mere inches from his mouth. She faced down his body, giggling and he snaked his tongue out to taste her, but she kept her prize just out of reach. "So that's how it is, eh?" he said from below her before suddenly wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling down on them and causing her to lurch unexpectedly (for her) onto his eager mouth. Becky shuddered and moaned loudly as his tongue snaked along and massaged her nether lips, before flickering against her throbbing clit to make her gasp and almost double over. "No fair;” she panted, trying to regain control of herself, but Mark seemed inclined to cheat. He kept her pinned to him, leaving her to squirm helplessly above him while he lashed her with his tongue. "Uh, you bastard; yes, right there; Oh, God, Mark;” Her pleas exhorted him to even greater measures. He was determined to make her cum on his mouth at least once before they fucked. And he seemed to be pretty damned good at making her cum with oral sex, he had to say. Becky squirmed on top of him, playing wither tits, pinching and pulling on her pink nipples, her eyes squeezed shut, because it almost felt too good if she was looking at him. His eager tongue snaked deep inside her hungry cunt, making her wetter still. He had this maddening technique where he formed shapes or letters inside her with his tongue, reaching almost every nook and cranny of her. She whimpered, knowing he intended to make her cum and she was more than happy to oblige. She leaned forward while sitting on his face, reaching out to his twitching cock, caressing and massaging it gently; she didn't want him to cum, she just wanted to keep him stimulated. She felt the thrill of anticipation, knowing it would soon be inside her, pumping in and out, throbbing and finally releasing his creamy essence into her, something she accepted gladly because of the temporal mechanics between them. Mark sucked her clit into his mouth, rolling it around and making her shudder, groaning deeply as something started to build within her. She pushed down onto his face with her hips, grinding eagerly, while her clit throbbed. Then her released it and pushed his tongue deep inside her again, probing and lashing her until she was writhing and panting heavily. "Oh, God, Mark;” she gasped, sweat streaming from her sensual form. "Oh, fuck, yes, please; Uh, so close, baby;” He pushed into her as hard as he could and she jerked and squeaked arching her back. Her whole frame was wracked with pleasure as she cried out loudly, the orgasm crashing through her until she almost couldn't breathe. She shook violently, her eyes rolling into her head before she collapsed on top of him, her body limp and her chest heaving. Her limbs felt like tingling lead, but she managed to lift one to find his cock, determined to keep him hard until she had recovered. She stroked him gently while he kissed at her gooey nether lips, his face glistening with her cum. Fortunately, Becky was insatiable and recovered quickly, slowly rising and then sidling forward down his body so she could look back at him and smirk. "How about it, big boy?" she asked coyly. "You ready for the main event?" Mark grinned and nodded while she slithered down his body, finally hovering over his hips while facing his feet. She took hold of his throbbing cock and teased it against her slippery entrance before sinking down, making them both sigh in relief. "Hallelujah;” she moaned as he bottomed out inside her, filling her completely. "Oh, that's exactly what the doctor ordered." Mark nodded and took hold of her silken, pert ass cheeks and gripped them firmly, making his teacher purr. Becky loved having her ass played with, and while she began to sink up and down slowly on his cock, he massaged the peach-like orbs, eliciting moans from her when he spread them wide, giving her a delicious stretch. "Hmm, get me nice and ready back there," she cooed as she moved up and down on him. "Because once you're done in my cunt, I want you in my ass and I want to feel your cum in it." Mark nodded eagerly, because he loved fucking Becky's ass. Her cunt was incredibly tight, but even that couldn't match her exquisite back passage, which gripped him so strongly and always made him cum so hard he thought he might faint. His fingers teased against her little puckered, pink knot, sending the most divine tingles through her luscious body. Becky undulated on him, picking up the pace and counting on Mark to control himself until her was in her ass. She bit her lower lip, working herself on that thick, throbbing tool, pulling up until it was almost out of her and then sinking back down in one long stroke, filling her completely. Her heart was strumming in her chest as she thrilled to the notion of the oncoming climax. She was hissing now, struggling to hold on just a few seconds longer, to draw out this wonderful pleasure for them both. But then she felt the point of no return and willingly stepped over it, moaning loudly as her cunt fluttered and she began to cum, hard. She wailed and rocked on her lover, bathing his middle with her excitement. Her head lolled for several seconds as she came down from her orgasm, but she remembered that she still had Mark inside her and needed him, promised him, that he would be cumming in her ass. Slowly, lethargically, she raised herself until his cock fell out of her, still rock-hard and yearning for more. For such a young man, he had exceptional control. She inched forward, until she felt his pulsing head teasing against her notch. She reached underneath herself and took hold of the shaft, holding him steady while she pressed down, slowly but surely. She heard him groan as the head popped through her tight ring suddenly and then he was sliding inside her. It was Heaven. She sat still for several seconds, just reveling in the feel of him filling her ass. She felt the need to be sensual, and she leaned backward, until she was resting her back on his torso, her head next to his. But her knees were still bent and she groaned like she was going to burst, the angle of his penetration in this position more than she could bear. Whispering for him to wait patiently, she slowly, sinuously slid her legs out from beneath herself and straightened them, relaxing in pleasure as they rested on Mark's thighs. "Sorry, that would've downright killed me right now," she whispered to him, her glassy, heavily-lidded eyes looking into his. "And I wanted to be down her to kiss you and let you fondle me as you fucked me and came in me." "Sounds like a plan," he agreed readily, his strong, but gentle hands coming up to rest on her opulent tits. Her began caressing and massaging them in circles while Becky started moving her ass on top of his cock, squeezing him inside her tight confines. "God, I love your ass, Becky." "Umm, it loves your cock, Mark," she purred, undulating on him, the throb of his tool being felt through her whole body like another heartbeat. "You always make me cum so hard;” They squirmed and ground together, with Mark tilting his hips up to push inside her while Becky squeezed him, the lovers shuddering as they kissed feverishly. His hands were squeezing her tits now, pinching and pulling on the nipples again to make her groan with the delicious sting. But Mark felt his climax approach and he knew it wouldn't be long before he was pumping his cum inside her. Becky moaned into his mouth as she felt his cock swelling and twitching erratically, a sure sign he was about to cum. She squeezed him tighter, feeling the buildup inside herself, yearning to share that unreal ecstasy. The groaned into one another mouths at first, but then the kiss was broken as they panted, fighting for air, their voices carrying around the woods they were in. He pushed up hard inside her, pulling down on her tits while she squeezed with all her might, his cum almost searing hot inside her, filling her up. Mark went limp, breathing heavily and clearly spent, not that he minded. Becky could barely move, bound in ropes of silken bliss that kissed every nerve in her body. Her own heartbeat plus the relentless throb of Mark's rigid cock, still oozing inside her, almost meant she didn't know how to center herself. But they relaxed together finally, kissing gently, eyes closed while they clasped hand on top of her tits. Tongues softly tangled, tasting one another while they let their rapture slowly ebb. Minutes passed and they lay silently, waiting for Mark's cock to soften so Becky could sit up. Finally, she giggled, squeezing his hands. "Feels like somebody doesn't wanna go to sleep," she said cutely, wiggling her ass on him, feeling her ass refusing to relinquish its hard-earned prize. "What're we gonna do?" "Iono," he said drowsily. "We just wait, I guess. If I try to have another orgasm right now, I'm pretty sure he'd just spontaneously combust inside you." "Alas, poor cock," she cooed, stroking his cheek. "I guess we happily wait, then." They closed their eyes and relaxed, waiting for Mark's erection to subside so that they could get up without difficulty. Their hands remained at rest on her tits while they nuzzled their cheeks together. Then there was a 'click!' sound. Arrest in Flagrante delicto. Becky's eyes snapped open and she goggled up at a man dressed in rather colorful and opulent period clothing, staring down at them as he pointed a flintlock rifle at their face. Looking around, she now saw they were surrounded by men carrying pikes and muskets, all of whom stared at the naked couple with varying level of interest. The man directly over them moved his musket muzzle, indicating they should sit up. Mark's eyes were open by now and he glanced around in confusion as well, clearly not understanding what had happened. The man's eyes narrowed and he moved the musket muzzle again. Becky, sensing the danger they were suddenly in, tried to move, but shivered; she was still impaled on Mark's solid cock, which had shown no signs of softening and kept her pinned against him. She couldn't get up. "Great time to develop priapism, Mark;” she said sourly. "Maybe Louis the Sun King's France just isn't for us after all," Mark sighed as he hiked along behind Becky, who had been stuffed hurriedly back into her dress while he was allowed to put on his breeches again. Neither of them even had shoes on as they followed the soldiers. Their hands were tied behind their backs. "This is twice now that we've;“ "I know, Mark, I was there," Becky said somewhat tersely, wondering if Chester Edgeworth was now someone she had to add to her shit list. She hated adding names to the shit list. "I guess we were so busy fucking that the event our host meant for us to witness has found us." "Tais-tois!" one of the men guarding them said as he walked nearby with a musket. "Vou ne pouvez-pas parler!" Becky scowled at the man and continued trudging. She wasn't really embarrassed about being caught fucking, it wasn't the first time it had happened to them here in France. But at least this lot had the decency to let her have an orgasm first before taking them prisoner. She couldn't even enjoy the grass stains on her clothes! They had exited the woods and were now tromping through a field, heading toward a much larger cluster of soldiers. Mark couldn't help but notice that a lot of them were wearing red. "Shit;” Becky muttered as she saw them as well. "That's all we need." "Huh?" Mark asked, but he was silenced when a soldier shoved him roughly from behind with his musket, indicating he was to stay quiet. They approached the encampment and Mark soon realized there were several hundred soldiers. The tents were spread out around one rather illustrious red tent of grand size. He then saw a cluster of cavaliers milling about and they seemed to be headed in that direction. Soldiers stared at them as they entered the perimeter of the camp, usually at Becky. Mark and Becky found themselves hauled in front of the cavaliers, who parted, making way for a single man on horseback. He was at least middle-aged, with a somewhat grey pallor to his skin and thin, hawk-like features. His expression was a rather lemony one, as if he felt inconvenienced by this entire incident. For all that, though, his dark eyes glinted with intelligence. He was wearing the flowing red habits of a high-ranking member of the Catholic church, although he had a burnished breastplate on his chest as well. "You stand in the presence of his Eminence, the Cardinal Richelieu," announced the captain of the troops that had taken them prisoner. Mark's eyes went wide. He didn't speak French, but he'd seen enough Three Musketeers movie reboots to know who Cardinal Richelieu was and exactly what sort of deep shit they were suddenly in. "Show respect!" Becky dropped to one knee and bowed her head, looking at the ground. Mark rapidly followed suit, since she probably had a better grasp of the situation than he did. He could feel everyone's eyes and on them and it was beginning to weigh heavily, like a yoke around his neck. His face flushed, but he said nothing. "Who are these persons?" the cardinal asked finally. "Your names, my children." "My name is Rebecca, your Eminence," Becky said humbly, still not looking up. "And you, good sir?" the Cardinal asked, looking over at Mark now. "M; me llamo Marco del strade, tu Eminencia." Mark stammered. "A Spaniard," mused the Cardinal, pursing his lips. "In the presence of a peasant girl. And you both have unusual accents, I admit." "Your Eminence," said one of the captains, looking at them suspiciously. "This man, why is he here traipsing about Champagne like this? With this peasant girl? We found them in the woods, doing unspeakable carnal acts to one another." The Cardinal's eyebrow arched and he looked on in seeming distaste. "You don't say." "Very likely he is a spy for King Phillip, your Eminence!" said the captain, almost sneering. "No, your Eminence," Becky said suddenly, her voice full of concern. "I assure you, he is no spy!" Mark hadn't heard or understood everything the Frenchmen were saying to one another, but he understood 'espion' and his teacher's reaction indicated that he was in some kind of trouble. Go figure. "And what grounds can you give me to believe you, child?" the Cardinal asked with feigned interest. "Please," she begged, her head still bowed. "You have my utmost assurances he is no spy, he's an idiot!" This made the men around them laugh and even Richelieu grunted in amusement. "Both of you rise." Mark saw Becky get to her feet and he did the same. All around them, men with pikes and muskets were watching them warily, some of them levelling weapons at the pair. Clearly they took the Cardinal's safety seriously. Richelieu observed them with interest. "The girl is very unusual," he mused. "Tall, very healthy and very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. I know only one other of such unmatched attractiveness." Mark wasn't sure where this was going, but he doubted it was good. The Cardinal's interest in him was waning. "And yet you say you found her acting in a most carnal and un-ladylike manner in the woods, hmm?" Richelieu continued. "Well, it certainly won't do for her to be out here alone in the countryside, rutting like a nymph, would it? Perhaps her majesty could make use of the girl, once we fix her atrocious accent." "My what?" Becky snapped, looking offended now. "Put her in the cart, we'll bring her to the capital, with regards to the Queen." Richelieu declared, turning his horse about and riding off. Men began to try and wrangle Becky into one of the carts, many of them laughing and leering as they took the opportunity to grope her. Gut shot. "Hey, stop that!" Mark said angrily, surging forward, but he suddenly found himself confronted by a captain, who stared at him impassively. There was a sudden and frightfully loud 'crack!' sound and Mark halted suddenly, his eyes wide. Becky's head snapped around at the noise and her eyes went wide. Blinking, Mark slowly looked down and saw there was a very red puncture hole in his abdomen. Sounds slowed down, taking on an almost syrupy quality and he started to feel confused. Becky screamed and tried to force her way to him, but she was being hustled away by many guards. The man who had shot him wandered off, sliding his flintlock pistol back into a holster, clearly no longer caring about Mark. Everyone seemed to be wandering off now. He felt cold, and vaguely nauseous. The ugly red wound in his stomach pulsed, blood welling from it slowly. He felt himself toppling over, white light bathing the field around him. He could still see things, but they seemed distant. He tried to focus on something, finally identifying Becky's voice as she screamed for him. He could just make out the soldiers wrestling her into a cart while she struggled and kicked savagely, her face contorted in rage. "I'll Get You For This, Richelieu!" she roared as Mark's world was absorbed by the soft white light. "You Just Made The Shit List Of High Doom!! See If I Ever Dance A Sarabande For You, Pal!" Mark bolted upright suddenly, gasping. His eyes were wide and he was covered in sweat. His heart thundered in his chest and he fought to control his panic. The white light was slowly replaced by close walls of grey stone. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing. His hands bunched against sheets that were covering him. Finally, he could breathe normally and he tried to organize his thoughts. He still felt confused, everything a total jumble. "Calm yourself. Think!" He'd been fucking Becky in the woods. Apparently they were waiting for Cardinal Richelieu to go by, which he guessed passed for a historical event, seeing the man. But the Cardinal's soldiers heard the two of them and took them prisoner. Then they took Becky and Mark tried to stop them and got shot in the stomach; His eyes snapped open and he was frozen in place. He forced himself to look down at his middle, seeing that he was still covered in a sheet. His hand was trembling as he moved it slowly toward the heavy, dun-colored blanket, sweat trickling from his brow as he felt fear rise in his throat. He flung away the sheet suddenly, unable to bear not knowing. He wasn't bleeding. There was no puncture wound, only a strange, round scar about two inches in diameter. Eyes wide, he slowly lifted his head and looked around, now noticing his environs; he was indeed in a small bedroom, the curtains drawn to keep out the light and very little in the way of décor. Just a chair and a table in one corner, some other surfaces with candles spaced around the room. His bed was solid and comfortable. "Ah, there you are," Chester Edgerton said as he came through the door. "I was beginning to think you had no intentions of waking up." "Where;” Mark said somewhat feebly. "Back at my place," Chester answered, sitting down in the chair and settling in for what was no doubt going to be a long and perhaps trying conversation. "I found you lying in the middle of the field nearly a kilometer from where I'd left you and you were very close to dead." "How did I;” "You should have died," Chester continued. "But ultimately you wouldn't have, due to a time lock, I'm assuming. You weren't meant to die there in that field. Luckily for you, there are still plenty of ways to get yourself killed for doing absurd things." "Why did you leave us in the first place?" Mark asked. "I've been around Richelieu and several of his captains at various points in the time stream, and it's getting difficult to manage," Chest replied, shrugging. "Best way to deal with that issue is to simply not be present." "So why leave us there?" "To see Richelieu, of course," the man said simply. "One of history's truly great men, certainly more so than that twit of a king he serves. I was just trying to ease you into the idea of witnessing historical events. It never occurred to me that you'd be found because you made your teacher yodel like a Swiss Miss when you flagranting the delicto with her. I admit I hadn't planned for that nonsense." Mark blushed. "So, what, I wasn't meant to die here, so my body just healed itself?" Chester laughed. "Oh, no, dear boy, nothing of the sort. I came back to the woods, as promised, as when you weren't there, I began noticing the tracks of many solid shoes and boots in the vicinity. Not to mention the clothes you left behind." "Yeah, sorry, I was kinda tied up at the moment." Mark muttered. "In any event, I followed the tracks, noticed that Richelieu had broken camp and then found you. You'd been lying there for nearly three hours, you should have been dead from blood loss, but you weren't. I brought you back here, removed the ball from your stomach and then healed you." "You can do that?" Mark asked. "I thought you said you were a dealer in chroniques." "It helps to have a few irons in the fire and some hidden talents if you're going to mess around in the time stream," Chester replied. "But I was under no obligation to complicate my life and save you." "I guess I'm glad you did," Mark sighed. "Thanks. But wouldn't I have healed anyway?" "Yes, but maybe not fully," replied the enigmatic dealer. "You might've been found by some local peasants, brought back to their hovel and spent life as a weakened vegetable until you died of the Plague. People die in the past all the time, Mark, and everyone in their own era thinks they just disappeared and mourns them. It's frightfully common." "Can I; can I see the tools you used to heal me?" Mark asked hopefully. "Nope," Chester replied, shaking his head. "They're from your future by a few hundred years, the only reason I used them at all was because you were out cold." "Uh, how long was I out, anyway?" "Almost a month," Chester answered, smoothing a corner of his pencil moustache. "I had you fully healed and ready for action by the next day, to be honest, but you just refused to come to. So, I just left you to it, figuring you would wake up when you felt like it." "Oh, shit," Mark breathed, realizing something. "Where's Becky?" Chester raised his hands. "Why would I know? I wasn't there. What do you remember?" Mark tried to concentrate while Chester got up and poured a glass of water. Mark drank it thirstily and placed the glass on the table. He found himself wishing that he'd taken French instead of Spanish in school. He'd thought Spanish might be more useful, but all it did was get him shot. Fuck that. "I don't really speak French, so this is hard. Umm; they thought I was a spy because they thought I was Spanish." "Because you've been presenting yourself as Spanish while you're here," Chester mused. "In spite of your outrageous accent. France has been at war with Spain on and off for some time now." "Whatever," Mark grumbled. "They seemed really interested in Becky." "To be expected, she is quite lovely. I dare say I've only known one woman in this entire era to match her beauty." "Well, I think I heard them say 'capital', and then I think 'la reigne', which means queen, right?" "Indeed it does," Chester agreed. "My bet, then, is that your teacher has been taken by the Cardinal to be presented as a gift to her majesty, Queen Anne, to serve as one of her ladies-in-waiting." "Why would he do that?" Mark asked, frowning. "I've seen enough Three Musketeers movies to know that the Cardinal and the Queen hate each other." Chester smiled. "It's a game he plays with her. As the years go on, Anne is, sadly, getting 'a little long in the tooth', to borrow a phrase. She remains dignified and regal, but her best days are behind here, where attractiveness is concerned. Richelieu now takes great delight in surrounding her with women of magnificent beauty, seemingly a gesture of devotion, but really meant to hurt the queen's feelings." "What a dick." Mark muttered. "You have no idea," Chester said dryly. "If they got her back to the city roughly a week after she was taken, then she's been with the royal court for three." "Meaning that she's either loving life as a lady-in-waiting, or she's killed and eaten them all," Mark said heavily. "I guess I have to go get her." "I can't imagine this not being amusing," Chester said, smirking. "But out of morbid curiosity, how, exactly, will you affect this rescue?' "I dunno," Mark said, shrugging. "But I can't leave her. She'd kill me." "She probably thinks you're dead, I feel obliged to point out." Chester mentioned. "She saw you suffer a mortal wound at point-blank range. You should be dead and only an as-yet undetermined temporal snarl has kept you alive. I wouldn't count on that again if I were you." "Well I can't do nothing!" Mark insisted in frustration. Chester tilted his head, observing his guest for a moment. "Do you love this woman?" Mark blushed furiously. "I; no, I don't love her, or if I do, then I'm not in love with her. There's a difference, ya' know." "Well and truly said, Boccaccio," Chester chuckled. "Well, if there's no stopping you, then I'll see what I can do to discretely help you." "Why?" Mark queried. "I've got a friggin' time machine. All I need to do is get there, zip in and zip out." "Correct me if I am wrong," interjected his host. "But did you not tell me, early on in our association, that your current self is from three months in the future of the Miss Rebecca that I know." Mark nodded. "And you plan to add another layer of temporal travel on top of that wedding cake of disaster?" Chester mused. "Rebecca could be subtly altering the timelines in Paris now with her very presence, involuntary as it might be. Your oh-so-carefully laid plan could simply not work because of a slight temporal consideration." "So you're saying no time machine." Mark stated flatly, not impressed. "I'm saying the idea is bad. Atari Jaguar bad," Chester replied. "If you intend to do this hare-brained thing, allow me to assist you in what moderate ways I can." "What, you've got some funky tech or weapons you can loan me?" "We'll see about that, but more importantly, I guess I'll call in a favor. A certain person who moves in the circle of the royal court owes me a small boon, and I can use it to assist you. They happen to be an accomplished master of intrigue and getting out of sticky situations, with a blade if necessary." Mark's eyes lit up. "Is it D'Artagnan?" "Only if you want to get Clock-Hammered out of existence," Chester laughed, shaking his head. "Everybody wants to meet Charles de Batz, thinking they're going to see D'Artagnan of Three Musketeers fame, and then it just turns out he's a bad-tempered Gascon who loves to punch people who bother him. He's punched more time-travelers than Jesus, I'm pretty sure." Chester then went over to a drawer and rummaged around inside it, finally pulling out a yellowing envelope that was sealed with wax. "I assure you, the agent I am referring you to will be much more effective than D'Artagnan. I will send you with instructions about where in Paris to meet them and offer them this envelope. Warning, though, if they see it is opened, they will simply refuse to help and go away to where you cannot find them. Are you strong enough to keep from opening the letter?" Mark nodded. "Well, then," Chester announced, opening a bottle of wine and pouring two cups. "Shall we drink a toast to your success, o Macro del Strade of Seville?" Palace Mission. Mark was sitting on the back of a hay wagon, wondering if he could really pull this insane plan off. In addition to the letter, Chester Edgeworth had indeed furnished him with a few small devices and curious that they hopefully would help him, though it cost him almost all the rest of his money. Chester pointed out he was a businessman and didn't intend to take a loss just because some idiot created a time crisis for himself. Fair enough. Mark tried not to play with the little bud that sat deep in his ear; Chester had sold it to him, saying that it could translate languages, speaking into Mark's ear whatever he was focusing on. It could also possibly formulate phrases; if he spoke in English, it could tell him the closest translation to what he was saying. This model was old, though, and only spoke the French of this period. Chester didn't want him getting any clever ideas with a more powered-up version, since if something bad happened, it might come back on him. The reasoning initially annoyed Mark, but the more he thought about it, he reminded himself that he was here to rescue Becky. Nothing else. He thought about the conversation he'd had with their host while drinking wine and planning his initial move, heading to Paris. "So why did you begin time-travelling at all?" the man had asked. "Well, I;” Mark started saying, unsure of how to answer. "I found a time machine. Seems perfectly logical to use it." "Granted, but what's your personal motivation, Mark?" he asked. "Is it to see glorious historical events, are you a treasure hunter, a thrill-seeker who wants to run with the Dromaesaurs?" Mark blushed now. "Honest? I thought it'd be cool to have sex with women from history." To his amazement, Chester didn't laugh uproariously, he simply smiled and shrugged. "More common than you would think, especially amongst men your age, who are full of hormones. Let me ask, then; was getting laid in your own time-period difficult?" "Not really, no." "Well it's not any easier in the time stream, just so you know," Chester pointed out. "In some periods of history, it can be even harder, where religious fervor runs rampant and sexual repression is the law of the land. I assume you wouldn't go as far as to rape a girl." Mark shook his head. "Lots of men do when they find out that having sex in the past is harder than they anticipated," Chester said almost sadly, shaking his head. "You're one of the better ones. But for all that, the problem remains; getting into bed or a rug with Cleopatra is pretty much next to impossible. You might as well hope to seduce Scarlett Johansson when you're no one in particular." "Hey, I got Becky, didn't I?" Mark had protested. "Dumb luck, really, and she's a remarkable woman. Have you had sex with any women aside from Becky since you came to the Sun King's France?" He shrugged. "A few, I shared 'em with Becky." "Peasants, I assume?" "Mostly, yeah," Mark admitted. "There was one sophisto girl, but Becky did the talking and charmed the knickers off her for us." "If it weren't for Becky, you'd be completely out of your league here, boyo," Chester said simply. "And trust me, it won't get easier. Even history buffs who think they know everything get caught and pay the price. There's the history you know, the history you don't know, and the history that you don't know that you don't know." "What?" "What year did World War Two end?" Chester asked. "Simple. 1945." "So you know that. What year did the Crimean War start?" "I've heard of it, but I don't know anything about it." "Something you know that you don't know. Okay, tell me about the League of Ages Twelfth Nicean Temporal Council." "The what?" "Exactly," Chester had said emphatically, leaning forward and pointing with his wine glass to make a point. "An incredibly important historic event that you've never even heard of, but it happened all the same. Can you imagine trying to do something that conflicted with that? You wouldn't even know what clock-hammered you, or why; because only a practiced temporal traveler would be aware of the event at all. Time travel can be tedious." "It's certainly becoming less and less fun by the moment." Mark grumbled. "Probably the smartest thing you've said since you found that Holmes-Field Device," Chester agreed. "Life would be a lot easier if casual nitwits like yourself walked the other way when a time machine appeared in their path." "But don't you make a living selling to people like me?" Mark asked. "Hardly," Chester almost snorted. "Nitwits like you rarely have anything to even pay me with and usually require drastic amounts of assistance. No, my friend, the majority of my income is derived from customers who hail from the far future where time travel is an established industry and carefully regulated. Now those people are my bread and butter." "Did Becky and I really stand out?" Mark asked somewhat dully. "More and more with each passing moment," Chester answered. "You're too tall, too healthy, you have all your teeth, and your accents are absurd." Mark said nothing. "And by the way," added his host. "Those little packets of Airborne that you both carry in your pockets? The little Vitamin C boost things to ward off the sniffles? I can guarantee you that those will in no way, shape or form protect you from illnesses in this era. Only thing it'll do is turn your piss such a bright yellow that people will think you're possessed and the Inquisition will burn you." Mark ended up leaving the packets as a curio that Chester could sell to people from the future who wanted to snicker at how dumb people from the turn-of-the-millennium were. Carting to Paris. He had arranged transport to Paris with the wagon he was now on, making sure the farmer put some extra perk in his horse's step by offering him twice as many sou as was normal. The journey, which would normally take a week, with good weather, was promised to six days because of the extra money. Whatever the difference was between six-day speed and seven-day speed, Mark sure couldn't tell it. His communication with the farmer had been sluggish, certainly, mostly on his end, because he would try to say exactly what his little translator bud told him and he probably sounded like he'd had a stroke when he was speaking. The farmer laughed at his speech, but still did as he was asked. Mostly they slept at the side of the road in the piled hay, but one night they stayed in a roadside inn. Mark's funds were running out fast, even though the food he ate was paltry and rather unappetizing. He had to reach Paris. They then trundled through the town where Mark and Becky had first come to; and Mark hid himself in the straw, figuring it was best to not be seen by people whom he might be familiar with. Even if the innkeeper's two daughters would no doubt readily fuck him again. He fought the temptation to ignore Chester's instructions and simply go get his Holmes-Field Device and use it to rescue his teacher. But he disciplined himself and refrained, he was in enough trouble as it is.  Then he meditated; Known knowns. Known unknowns. Unknown unknowns. Fuck. The days and nights passed with Mark trying to keep himself from growing crazy by practicing his French and thinking of his plan. He had no idea whatsoever about what to do once he reached Paris. Get inside the royal palace? He couldn't exactly Google the plans for it, could he? "Regardez la!" the farmer said finally, calling back to Mark and pointing toward the west. As the sun was rising behind them, he could make out a sprawling sea of darkness in the distance, the silhouette of which prickled the sky. Endless plumes of smoke hung over the city as deep grey gave way to dawn behind them. He thought it might actually be pretty. And then the wind wafted over them from the west, bringing the unique scent of fabled Paris. "Jesus!" Mark croaked as he turned green, leaning over the side of the wagon and puking his guts out while the farmer roared with laughter. They entered the city. Mark wandered through the choking maze of streets, gaping at the chaos of architecture around him; houses seemed to almost be built on top of houses, to the place where some of them were leaning over almost drunkenly. The cobblestones of the road were wet and sticky with effluence, there was no way to avoid it. The stench was beyond belief. How had people ever lived like this? He had asked on repeated occasions where he could find La Rue de Grenuie, the place Chester had told him he would find the agent he'd referred to. Mark was reasonably certain most people were being helpful, even if they stared at him like he was an alien. He might as well have been, he was a head taller than just about everyone, clearly well-fed and had all his teeth. Mark had seen jack-o-lanterns with more teeth than most of the denizens of Paris' infamous streets. He took many wrong turns, because where he thought people had told him to go was often a dead end. Eventually, by divine providence, he found himself on the street he'd been asking for, evidenced by an ancient, worn rectangle of wood that said the name in faded green letters. Certain he was on the right track, he headed down the crowded street, stuffing his purse into the front of his breeches, since Chester had told him Paris was home to countless scoundrels who could remove his wealth without him even noticing. The crowds began to thin out somewhat, and the street got narrower, as if that was possible. The cobblestones were also surprisingly dry, not sticky or running with the sewage of the city behind him. Before long, it was barely wide enough to accommodate one person and he felt very uneasy about the rickety buildings that loomed over his head, almost blocking the sky. He then stopped in front of a black iron fence, pitted with age and with a chain wrapped around it. He tilted his head and unwrapped the chain, finding that the gate now swung open freely and with decidedly little noise. He stepped in, closed it behind himself and then fixed the chain back in place as best he could. He found himself walking through a tunnel, the buildings about him now made of stone. Dank and foreboding, he resisted the urge to run, not knowing what lay ahead. Eventually, he came to a small, bare courtyard. It might have been thirty feet by thirty feet and was devoid of almost all decoration. High brick and stone walls concealed it from the chaos of Paris. It was surprisingly quiet, as if the city dared not disturb the austere serenity. There was a single, grey stone bench in the middle of the courtyard. Facing away from him, clad in a great cloak, was a person, the hood thrown over their head to keep the merciless sun off them. Mark swallowed and took a deep breath before beginning to move forward. Was this Chester's agent? If he was, Mark had to be careful, because he'd been told the man was dangerous. He approached slowly, finally coming to a stop some five paces away, still facing the stranger's back. "Hello," he said faltering French. "My name is Mark. I have; sent; to you; today; for big help. I is need big help." "That you do, my friend," replied the person in a strangely lyrical voice. Then closed a small book of devotionals wwhich had clearly been studied and stood, still facing away. "That much is obvious, because your French is painful." Mark blushed in embarrassment as the translator bud told him what the person had said. Still concealed beneath their voluminous midnight-blue cloak, the mysterious person turned around and approached him. He resisted the urge to take a step back as the shrouded presence stood right in front of him. He couldn't help but notice the person was on the taller side, strange for a Parisian. Gloved hands pulled down the hood and Mark's eyes widened in amazement. Shining golden hair spilled in luxurious tresses down the person's back. The eyes were a dazzling blue, glinting with intelligence. The smile was serene, the teeth within white and perfect. Lady Alexandra. <

Landor v. LA DOC | 11/10/25 | Docket #: 23-1197 23-1197 LANDOR V. LA DEPT. OF CORRECTIONS DECISION BELOW: 82 F.4th 337 CERT. GRANTED 6/23/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Congress has enacted two "sister" statutes to protect religious exercise: the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993 (RFRA), 42 U.S.C. 2000bb et seq ., and the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of 2000 (RLUIPA), 42 U.S.C. 2000cc et seq . In Tanzin v. Tanvir , 592 U.S. 43 (2020), this Court held that an individual may sue a government official in his individual capacity for damages for violations of RFRA. RLUIPA's relevant language is identical. The question presented is whether an individual may sue a government official in his individual capacity for damages for violations of RLUIPA. LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 22-30686

GEO Group, Inc. v. Menocal | 11/10/25 | Docket #: 24-758 24-758 THE GEO GROUP, INC. V. MENOCAL DECISION BELOW: 2024 WL 4544184 CERT. GRANTED 6/2/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Under 28 U.S.C. § 1291, the courts of appeals "have jurisdiction of appeals from all final decisions of the district courts." This Court has held that certain orders are immediately appealable under Section 1291 even though they do not terminate the litigation. Such "collateral orders" include orders denying claims of absolute immunity, qualified immunity, and state sovereign immunity. The question presented, which has divided the circuit courts 5-3, is whether an order denying a government contractor's claim of derivative sovereign immunity is immediately appealable under the collateral-order doctrine. LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 22-1409

I was moving the harp the other day and once again, it occurred to me just how much stuff we have to carry around with us. Granted, I move my harp all the time for rehearsals and concerts - it's a big Lyon Healy Salzedo model harp - so you would think I'd be used to it by now.  I guess I am, mostly; I don't have to think about what goes in the car, and my harp bag is always ready to go. But when I start counting the number of trips I have to make between my car and the concert hall in the pouring rain, I start wishing for a Star Trek transporter.  But recently, while I was moving the harp, my bench, my stand, and my bag, I had a flash of insight; we harpists carry a lot of baggage with us. Not a revelation, I know, but it led my mind to consider the other kind of baggage we harpists carry, the stress that accumulates in our practice and performance. That's a kind of baggage that piles up in a sneaky way until one day, we find it has overwhelmed us. The physical stress that is part of practicing, the mental stress that can come with intense focus and the emotional stress of wanting to do our best when we play can add up to a potentially toxic level.  The worrisome part is we rarely acknowledge the stress as it is building little by little. There is simply a moment when we know we can't take any more, often as we are in the final stages of preparing for a performance. That's when we want to be at our most focused, but our mind and body are shutting down, trying to protect us from too much stress. I'm better at managing stress than I used to be, but stress used to be baggage that I always carried with me to some degree. It came and went in cycles, and I'm embarrassed to admit that it never occurred to me that this wasn't or shouldn't have been normal. I don't want to be all doom and gloom here. What I want to talk about today is how to recognize that sneaky cycle of stress and release yourself from it. We'll talk about the hidden symptoms of stress and how to recognize them and how to keep them from coming back. It's time to ditch the excess baggage and feel free to play. Links to things I think you might be interested in that were mentioned in the podcast episode:  Are you a beginner? Register now for my free seminar, Pro Tactics for Beginners. Register for the Getaway Retreat now at Early Bird Pricing!  Stretches for Harpists, by Mary Jane D'Arville  Harpmastery.com Get involved in the show! Send your questions and suggestions for future podcast episodes to me at podcast@harpmastery.com   Looking for a transcript for this episode? Did you know that if you subscribe to this podcast on Apple Podcasts you will have access to their transcripts of each episode? LINKS NOT WORKING FOR YOU? FInd all the show resources here: https://www.harpmastery.com/blog/Episode-234  

"The power of that resurrection so transforms our suffering that we enter into a deeper fellowship, a deeper communion with Jesus Christ. that our suffering, framed in this way, understood in this way, by faith, received in this way, somehow, by the power of that resurrection, unites us to Jesus further. And we enter into a deeper communion with the living Christ, even through a season, even through the valley of the shadow of death, even through the time that life crammed with toilsome that through those seasons, through those trials, that adversity, that difficulty, there's something deeply at work in our union with Christ that drives us closer to Jesus, that we come to know Jesus in a deeper, more profound way."

JOIN US as we discuss Scotty Morrow.RIP to the victims

Ninja Nurse Book: https://amzn.to/42n9Fqz TKF -KFP Blend 1.Leaders 2.Ando Mierzwa 3. Saturday Mental Meals Shurite Troy June 26-28 2026 https://shuritebujutsu.com/seminars%2Fevents Support A Kids Dream https://gofund.me/e745a0e7 Injuries, ailments and bruising are part of being a martial artist. Sore muscles, joint tweaks and broken bones can happen in martial activity with many variables dictating the outcome. We want to identify the most important variables or potential risks. The injury rate in martial arts is similar to other contact sports. In a study, # Comparison of Shotokan Karate Injuries against Injuries in other Martial Arts and Select NCAA Contact Sports By John-David Swanson, Ph.D. Department of Biology and Biomedical Sciences, Salve Regina University, Newport, RI 02840 Martial arts has "myriad physical and mental benefits. Physical benefits include improved balance, meaningful exercise, and the ability to protect oneself against a physical threat [2]. It is also a physical art, with flowing movements that support one's connection to his/her movements." A review of research revealed there is a 1 in 5 chance of being injured in a shotokan tournament and 1 in 4 chance of being injured over the course of time training. The mean percentage of reported injuries thru 10 studies 1. Contusions 47% 2. Epistaxis (nosebleed) 20% 3. Laceration 14% 4. Sprains/strains 3% 5. Concussions 2% some as high as 7% the most injury-prone arts appear to be Jujitsu (97.5%), Aikido (51%), and Kung Fu (38%), followed by Judo, Karate, and Tae Kwon Do which all were at 20-21%. The least injury prone martial art of those studied is Tai Chi (14%). Which I define as the Wellness versions, but may include pushhands and some strengthening work. Over a 16 year NCAA research study, the only collegiate sport that had a higher injury rate than shotokan karate was football witha 36% injury rate. Soccer and ice hockey following respectively. The major risk factors for injury in the Martial Arts are the 1. time spent in training, 2. age of the participant, 3. the experience of the participant. 4. Specifically, it was found that overtraining, and older and inexperienced participants presented the highest risk of injury. As you might imagine, these factors compound, so an older, inexperienced person has a much higher percentage of getting injured. Professor Swanson states, "The single most important factor in preventing injury is the education and experience level of the instructor [14]. This indicates the requirement of having a strong organizational “apprenticeship” or instructor qualification that includes specific instruction in warm up and cool down procedures, injury prevention and the mechanisms of prevention, the ability to determine overtraining, the ability to give appropriate advice to students in the implication of techniques in both execution and results of delivery" Segways to why this is an important book, Ninja Nurse by Peter Jones. The Essential Guide to Injury Management in Martial Arts. It is available on amazon, goodreads and several other locations. Contributing to the validity of this 300 page book is that Peter is a nurse, has over 30 years of multi-martial experiences and deposits volumes of this information into one book. Ninja Nurse is an excellent guide to all aspects of injury prevention or reduction in martial arts. Chapters include health screening, risk assessment, and aspects of the training environment. Also, You Get a deepdive into children and to combat sports. It also includes true stories, useful links, and where to find important forms if you have a school. Peter takes you through a process, how to: 1. Reduce and prevent injury 2. Treat injury 3. Learn from the injury The book emphasizes content for the instructor. Peter walks through potential problem actions such as : 1. Breakfalling 2. Striking and padholding 3. Chokes and strangles As I read through the book, I noted that Peter provides you a good idea of what a legimate martial arts first aid kit might look like. Granted, any is better than none. However, This is particularly useful if you are not sure on how to build your martial arts first aid kit. Then please, make sure that you can use everything that is in it. https://www.nationalcprfoundation.com/courses/standard-first-aid-3/. $12.95 2 years Reality Moment: Indiana Personal Injury Lawsuit Involving Karate Kick Moves Forward. Kicking Held Bags, Johnny the jackass has already been warned twice about trying to crush people, and on third, gets a lady, jump kicks her when she wasn't ready. she injures her knee in the fall that required surgery. She has sued Johnny, and the court has stated, "an individual's actions during a particular exercise or drill in a practice session can be viewed as “within the range of ordinary behavior of participants in the sport” or whether it is dangerous is for a jury to decide." It continues, "Responsible trainers and athletes keep themselves aware of both the risk of injury and the steps to prevent them." My understanding is that the injured lady is only seeking damages from Johnny Jackass and not the martial arts school. My guess would be that they did things as close to right as possible, except for yanking johnny on his second warning. Ninja Nurse is an excellent clinical reference broken into areas, such as: 1. Spinal injury 2. Chest 3. Neck 4. Limbs 5. And smaller join injuries. Peter discusses Mental Health Awareness and there associations to problems in your training hall. Depression, anger, bi-polar students will bring unique concerns that you can reduce with awareness. Peter states, "consider an acute mental health episode like an acute injury." Iain Abernethy said, ""it focuses on how to ensure training partners don't get hurt and how to help them if they do." Jamie Clubb says, "this is as an exhaustive work on the subject as one could hope to find." I would tell you that this book addresses a critical area of any martial arts training center. Its value is well worth more than the cost. Thank you Peter. References [Shotokan and Other Martial Art Injury Rates](https://thesportjournal.org/article/comparison-of-shotokan-karate-injuries-against-injuries-in-other-martial-arts-and-select-ncaa-contact-sports/)

Learning Resources, Inc. v. Trump, President of U.S. | 11/05/25 | Docket #: 24-1287 24-1287 LEARNING RESOURCES, INC. V. TRUMP DECISION BELOW: THE PETITION FOR A WRIT OF CERTIORARI BEFORE JUDGMENT IS GRANTED. CONSOLIDATED WITH 25-250 FOR ONE HOUR ORAL ARGUMENT. EXPEDITED BRIEFING. THE CASES WILL BE SET FOR ARGUMENT IN THE FIRST WEEK OF THE NOVEMBER 2025 ARGUMENT SESSION.       CERT. GRANTED 9/9/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: The International Emergency Economic Powers Act, 50 U.S.C. § 1701 et seq. ("IEEPA") permits the President, upon a valid emergency declaration, to "investigate, block during the pendency of an investigation, regulate, direct and compel, nullify, void, prevent or prohibit, any acquisition, holding, withholding, use, transfer, withdrawal, transportation, importation or exportation of, or dealing in, or exercising any right, power, or privilege with respect to, or transactions involving, any property in which any foreign country or a national thereof has any interest[.]" Id. § l 702(a)(1)(B). Until now, no President in IEEPA's nearly 50-year history has ever invoked it to impose tariffs-let alone the sweeping worldwide tariffs imposed pursuant to the executive orders challenged here. The question presented is: Whether IEEPA authorizes the President to impose tariffs. LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 25-5202

I love spontaneous podcasts. That's what happened today with Randy Barton. He's a Diné (Navajo) artist and is just a very interesting man and a very unique and important artistic voice. He has a great story. He moves from the reservation to Winslow, AZ and gets into  hip hop culture and graffiti at a very young age. He runs with this, and it becomes the story of his life. Randy lays it all out in our conversation.This is one of those that you should watch on YouTube. Granted, this is an ART podcast, so they're all better with added visuals, but also because he's just such an animated individual. It's fun to be in his presence. He has a magnetism that you just can't put into words, but you know it when you feel it.I got to watch Randy do a live painting this summer and it was amazing to see. He's just so multi-dimensional in his creativity, from traditional art, to graphic design, to fashion, to dance, to music, to filmmaking. It was a really fun, interesting, and overall dynamic podcast that just happened out of thin air. After speaking with him for an hour or so, I like to think that's how Randy's life is. Things are naturally spontaneous for him and he's the type of person that - when he feels something, he just does it. So anyway, I had a great time, and I think you will too. This is Randy Barton on Art Dealer Diaries Podcast episode 370.

Ep. 161 Patrick Brogan: Lean In and Don't Take It for Granted Our hosts kick off this week talking about things they weren't great at when they first started, and Bryan shares his conversation with Patrick Brogan. Patrick shares his role at ArtsQuest, an organization that grew from an 11-day music festival to a 10-acre arts and culture campus, the SteelStacks. Patrick shares his journey in the arts and his over 20 years with ArtsQuest, encouraging folks to take it in and enjoy it all.  Patrick Brogan is the Chief Programming Officer at ArtsQuest in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania (https://www.artsquest.org/). Follow us on social media and let us know your thoughts and questions - https://linktr.ee/nobusinesslikepod Our theme song is composed by Vic Davi.

We really don't hear too many stories about "The American Dream" anymore. As I mention in the intro, Oksana's story comes as close as you'd expect to it. From a musical talent in Siberia to an amazing business in Los Angeles, it's certainly been an interesting road for her. And you'll hear about it in this interview. Granted, I don't normally do episodes about businesses, but hey, last week's with Arthur Frischman ("The Long Island Sign Guy") was about a guy with a business who became a viral sensation on social media. Will that happen for Oksana? I guess it's a wait and see for that, but I certainly wouldn't bet against what this lady can do. Thanks for coming on the show, Oksana!Oksana's info: Websites- https://oksanamanagementgroup.com/about-oksana/ , https://oksanaenrichment.com/ , https://oksanamanagementgroup.com/Social media: X:@omg_oksana , Facebook & instagram : @omgoksana; YouTube: @oksanabellaYou can hear Oksana's music on Apple Music! https://music.apple.com/us/artist/oksana-kolesnikova/285060259Catch "Sherpa Selects" on Saturdays. It's the episodes you tried to avoid the first time around!More thanks: Intro/outro:https://www.yourimagingguy.com/Music Credits/Voiceovers: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bruce Goldberg⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ( aka Lord Mr. Bruce); other Voices: The Sherpa-lu Studio PlayersYouTube: @sherpalution5000 @sherpalution-Instagram; @sherpalution1- TikTokLink pages: https://linktr.ee/sherpalution or https://chirp.me/sherpalutionHere's our website: https://shows.acast.com/the-sherpas-podcast-picksYou can support this show...FOR FREE!!! All you have to do is listen here.Email:jimthepodcastsherpa@gmail.comSupport:Review the show on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.**AI disclaimer: Any use of artificial intelligence in the voiceovers that may be used in this show are strictly for entertainment purposes. They are not used to mislead or disparage the content in this podcast, any guests, or the podcast platform that you are listening on. But I, as your Sherpa, have faith in YOUR intelligence as a listener, and know that you were already aware of this. Thanks for listening!Become a Rebel of the Sherpalution! Please subscribe to the show (for free) through your favorite podcast listening medium, so you don't miss an episode. (What if you miss one, and then we have a test????) If I'm not on your favorite medium, let me know, and I'll bribe my way on it! (That's assuming I actually have money...) Also, please reach out to me through my social media channels or email address. I'd love to hear what you think.And PLEASE let me know if there's a podcast I should be checking out...even if it's one you host! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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Coney Island Auto Parts, Inc. v. Burton | 11/04/25 | Docket #: 24-808 24-808 CONEY ISLAND AUTO PARTS, INC. V. BURTON DECISION BELOW: 109 F.4th 438 CERT. GRANTED 6/6/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Well-settled legal principles dictate that a judgment entered in the absence of personal jurisdiction is void. Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 60(b)(4) authorizes federal courts to vacate a judgment when it is void. A motion seeking vacatur, however, "must be made within a reasonable time." Fed. R. Civ. P. 60(c)(1). Each of the United States Courts of Appeals other than the Sixth Circuit holds that there is effectively no time limit for moving to vacate a judgment, notwithstanding Rule 60(c)(1)'s "reasonable time" requirement, when the judgment is obtained in the absence of personal jurisdiction. The common thinking among these circuits is that a judgment entered without personal jurisdiction is void ab initio. The United States Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit is the sole outlier. In this case, it held that Rule 60(c)(1) governs the timing of a motion seeking vacatur of a void judgment pursuant to Rule 60(b)(4). The question presented is: Whether Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 60(c)(1) imposes any time limit to set aside a void default judgment for lack of personal jurisdiction. LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 23-5881

Hain Celestial Group v. Palmquist | 11/04/25 | Docket #: 24-724 24-724 HAIN CELESTIAL GROUP V. PALMQUIST DECISION BELOW: 103 F.4th 294 CERT. GRANTED 4/28/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Respondents, citizens of Texas, filed this products-liability suit in state court against Petitioners Hain Celestial Group, Inc., then a citizen of Delaware and New York, and Whole Foods, Inc., a citizen of Texas. Hain removed based on diversity jurisdiction, arguing that Whole Foods should be dismissed as fraudulently joined. The district court agreed, dismissing Whole Foods with prejudice. After two additional years of federal- court litigation and a two-week jury trial, the district court granted judgment as a matter of law to Hain. On appeal, without ruling on the merits, the Fifth Circuit held that the district court erred in dismissing Whole Foods, vacated the final judgment, and ordered the matter remanded to state court to start from scratch. Relying on Respondents' post- removal amended complaint, the panel held, in conflict with several other courts of appeals, that the district court lacked jurisdiction to enter judgment as to the completely diverse parties before it. The questions presented are: 1. Whether a district court's final judgment as to completely diverse parties must be vacated when an appellate court later determines that it erred by dismissing a non-diverse party at the time of removal. 2. Whether a plaintiff may defeat diversity jurisdiction after removal by amending the complaint to add factual allegations that state a colorable claim against a nondiverse party when the complaint at the time of removal did not state such a claim LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 23-40197

A judge has approved Sean "Diddy" Combs' request for a fast-tracked appeals process, just four days after he began serving a 50-month sentence in a federal prison in New Jersey for two interstate prostitution convictions.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hencely v. Fluor Corp. | 11/03/25 | Docket #: 24-924 24-924 HENCELY V. FLUOR CORP. DECISION BELOW: 120 F.4th 412 CERT. GRANTED 6/2/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Former U.S. Army Specialist Winston T. Hencely was critically and permanently injured by a suicide bomber inside Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan. The bomber, Ahmad Nayeb, worked on base for a government contractor. An Army investigation found that the attack's primary contributing factor was the contractor's actions in breach of its Army contract and in violation of the military's instructions to supervise Nayeb. Hencely sued the government contractor for negligence under South Carolina law. He did not sue the military under the Federal Tort Claims Act. Even so, the Fourth Circuit held that Hencely's state claims are preempted by unspoken "federal interests" emanating from an FTCA exception. Invoking Boyle v. United Technologies Corp. , 487 U.S. 500 (1988), the court of appeals held that the FTCA's exception immunizing the government for "[a]ny claim arising out of the combatant activities of the military or naval forces ... during time of war," 28 U.S.C. §2680(j), barred Hencely's South Carolina claims against the contractor . The decision below reaffirmed a 3-1-1 split among the Second, Third, Fourth, Ninth and D.C. Circuits over Boyle 's reach when contractors defend against state tort claims by invoking §2680(j). The question presented is: Should Boyle be extended to allow federal interests emanating from the FTCA's combatant-activities exception to preempt state tort claims against a government contractor for conduct that breached its contract and violated military orders? LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 21-1994

Rico v. United States | 11/03/25 | Docket #: 24-1056 24-1056 RICO V. UNITED STATES DECISION BELOW: 2025 WL 720900 CERT. GRANTED 6/30/2025 QUESTION PRESENTED: Whether the fugitive-tolling doctrine applies in the context of supervised release. LOWER COURT CASE NUMBER: 24-2662

This is the evening All Local for November, 3 2025.

''I'd like to think we'll be there or thereabouts''GAA Manager Davy Fitzgerald joined Dave for a chat about the new season of Ireland's Fittest Family.

Hi Listeners. I'd love to hear from you. Send an email to Janet@jesteinkamp. It is not possible to respond to your Fan Mail posts directly.Hi Listeners, Welcome to this safe, judgment-free space to find support, explore new perspectives, and better understand your estrangement circumstances. Regardless of where your relationship sits on the Continuum of Estrangement, you'll find encouragement and reassurance. If you've ever wondered how to move between being a mom to your adult child and a grandma to their children—especially when estrangement or tension is involved—this episode is for you.I'm Dr. Janet Steinkamp, and in this episode I will help you understand and explore the powerful differences between your role as a mom to your adult child and your role as grandma. I'll provide reassurance that each role matters and how clear boundaries can actually strengthen family bonds. You'll learn how to move (flex) back and forth between supporter and emotional anchor to a safe haven for grandchildren. We explore ways to rebuild trust after distance seeps in or silence becomes a fact.Finally, we learn how to nurture relationships with your grandchildren without undermining your adult child's confidence and trust. And! Not feel exploited or taken for granted.Grab your notebook, get comfortable, and let's unpack what it means to love well in both roles—so you can grow stronger and find comfort knowing you're not alone.Related Episodes:When Our Adult Children Ask for Space: What It Really MeansUnderstanding Emotional Boundaries with Estranged Adult ChildrenHealing the Hurt: How to Rebuild Trust After EstrangementHow to Communicate Without Pushing Your Child AwaySupport the showFor more information, please visit:  https://www.WhenOurAdultChildrenWalkAway.com to find resources, strategies, and tips to prepare for repair! I'd love to hear from you directly. Send an email to Janet@jesteinkamp. ***It is not possible for me to respond to your Fan Mail posts directly.#FamilyEstrangementPodcast #ParentReconnection #EstrangedAdultChildren #ParentChildReunification #ReconnectingWithMyChild #EstrangementExpertThe continuum of estrangement discussed today can be found at https://www.togetherestranged.org/levels-of-estrangement.The stories, examples, reflections, and perspectives shared in this podcast are based on my professional work as an estrangSupport the showFor more information, please go to https://www.WhenOurAdultChildrenWalkAway.com to find resources, strategies and tips to prepare to repair! The continuum of estrangement discussed today can be found at https://www.togetherestranged.org/levels-of-estrangement. The stories, examples, reflections, and perspectives shared in this podcast are based on my professional work as an estrangement coach and my personal estrangement journey. Any examples, characters, or stories referenced are either drawn from my own lived experience or represent a composite of multiple real-life situations shared with me over time. The intention of this podcast is not to accuse, label, or defame any individual but to provide insight, validation, and support for those navigating the complexities of family estrangement. All opinions expressed are my own and are shared with you, the listener, from a place of healing and learning.

In this episode, Bob Ryan, Gary Tanguay and Jeff Goodman discuss the Celtics' start to the season and take a larger look around the NBA landscape. And Bob explains why he has loved what he has seen from Payton Pritchard this season & advises Celtics Fans to not take the starting Point Guard for granted. The Bob Ryan & Jeff Goodman NBA Podcast is Powered by 

This episode we start to get more into the material culture of the period with court fashion, as we look at the court robes that went along with the updated court ranks.  Granted, we only have a few resources, but from those it does seem like we can construct at least a plausible idea of what the court may have looked like at this time. For more discussion, check out the blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-137   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 137:  Courtly Fashion. In the New Year's ceremony, the court officials lined up in front of the Kiyomihara Palace, arranged by their relative court rank, dressed in their assigned court robes.  The effect was impressive—the rows of officials painting the courtyard like the bands of color in a rainbow, albeit one with only a couple of hues.  The fact that they were all wearing the same style of dress and black, stiffened gauze hats only added to the effect.  The individual officers were all but lost in what was, at least in outward form, a single, homogenous machine of government, just waiting for the command of their monarch to attend to the important matters of state. We are covering the reign of Ohoama no Ohokimi, aka Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito no Sumera no Mikoto, aka Temmu Tennou.  Last episode we went over the changes he had made to the family titles—the kabane—as well as to the courtly rank system.  For the former, he had consolidated the myriad kabane and traditional titles across Yamato into a series of eight—the Yakusa no Kabane.   These were, from highest to lowest: Mabito, Asomi, Sukune, Imiki, Michinoshi, Omi, Muraji, and Inaki.  By the way, you might notice that "Mabito" actually occurs in Ohoama's posthumous name:  Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito, which lends more credence to the idea that that kabane was for those with a special connection to the royal lineage. Besides simplifying and restructuring the kabane, Ohoama also reformed the court rank system.  He divided the Princely ranks into two categories:  Myou, or Bright, and Jou, or Pure.  For the court nobles the categories were:                Shou – Upright                Jiki – Straight                Gon – Diligent                Mu – Earnest                Tsui – Pursue                Shin – Advancement Each category was further divided into four grades (except for the very first princely category, Myou, which was only two).  Each grade was then further divided into large, "dai", or broad, "kou". And this brings us to our topic today. Along with this new rank system, Ohoama's administration also instituted a new set of court sumptuary laws. Some are vague in the record—we can just make assumptions for what is going on based on what we know from later fashion choices.  Others are a little more clear.  We'll take a look at those sumptuary laws, particularly those that were directly associated with the new court rank system, but we'll also look at the clothing styles more generally. To start with, let's talk about what we know about clothing in the archipelago in general.  Unfortunately, fabric doesn't tend to survive very well in the generally acidic soils of the Japanese archipelago.  Cloth tends to break down pretty quickly.  That said, we have fragments here and there and impressions in pottery, so we have some idea that there was some kind of woven fabric from which to make clothing out of. And before I go too far I want to give a shout out to the amazing people at the Kyoto Costume Museum.  They have a tremendous website and I will link to it in the comments.  While there may be some debate over particular interpretations of historical clothing, it is an excellent resource to get a feel for what we know of the fashion of the various periods.  I'll also plug our own website, SengokuDaimyo.com, which has a "Clothing and Accessory" section that, while more geared towards Heian and later periods, may still be of some use in looking up particular terms and getting to know the clothing and outfits. At the farthest reaches of pre-history, we really don't have a lot of information for clothing.  There is evidence of woven goods in the Jomon period, and we have Yayoi burials with bits of cloth here and there, but these are all scraps.  So at best we have some conjecture as to what people were wearing, and possibly some ability to look across the Korean peninsula and see what people had, there. There are scant to no reliable records from early on in Japanese history, and most of those don't really do a great job of describing the clothing.  Even where we do get something, like the Weizhi, one has to wonder given how they tended to crib notes from other entries. There is at least one picture scroll of interest: Portraits of Periodical Offering of Liang, or Liáng -Zhígòngtú.  It is said to have been painted by Xiao Yi in the early 6th century, and while the original no longer exists there is an 11th century copy from the time of the Song Dynasty.  The scroll shows  various ambassadors to the Liang court, including one from Wa.  The Wa ambassador is shown with what appears to be a wide piece of cloth around his hips and legs, tied in front.  His lower legs are covered in what we might call kyahan today: a rather simple wrap around leg from below the knee to the foot.  He has another, blue piece of cloth around his shoulders, almost like a shawl, and it is also tied in front.  Then there is a cloth wrapped and tied around his head. It's hard to know how much of this depiction is accurate and how much the artist was drawing on memory and descriptions from things like the Weizhi or Wei Chronicles, which stated that the Wa people wore wide cloths wrapped around and seamlessly tied As such, it may be more helpful to look at depictions actually from the archipelago: specifically, some of the human-figured haniwa, those clay cylinders and statues that adorned the burial mounds which gave the kofun period its name.  Some of these haniwa are fairly detailed, and we can see ties, collars, and similar features of clothing. These haniwa primarily seem to cluster towards the end of the Kofun period, in the later 6th century, so it is hard to say how much they can be used for earlier periods, though that is exactly what you will typically see for periods where we have little to know evidence.  I'm also not sure how regional certain fashions might have been, and we could very much be suffering from survivorship bias—that is we only know what survived and assume that was everything, or even the majority. Still, it is something. Much of what we see in these figures is some kind of upper garment that has relatively tight sleeves, like a modern shirt or jacket might have, with the front pieces overlapping create a V-shaped neckline.  The garment hem often hangs down to just above the knee, flaring out away from the body, and it's held closed with ties and some kind of belt, possibly leather in some cases, and in others it looks like a tied loop of cloth.  There is evidence of a kind of trouser, with two legs, and we see ties around the knee.  In some cases, they even have small bells hanging from the ties.  Presumably the trousers might have ties up towards the waist, but we cannot see that in the examples we have. We also see individuals who have no evidence of any kind of bifurcated lower garment.  That may indicate an underskirt of some kind, or possibly what's called a "mo"—but it could also be just a simplification for stability, since a haniwa has a cylindrical base anyway.  It is not always obvious when you are looking at a haniwa figure whether it depicts a man or woman: in some cases there are two dots on the chest that seem to make it obvious, but the haniwa do come from different artisans in different regions, so there is a lot of variability. We also see evidence of what seem to be decorative sashes that are worn across the body, though not in all cases.  There are various types of headgear and hairstyles.  Wide-brimmed and domed hats are not uncommon, and we also see combs and elaborate hairstyles depicted.  On some occasions we can even see that they had closed toed shoes.  For accessories, we see haniwa wearing jewelry, including necklaces (worn by both men and women), bracelets, and earrings.  In terms of actual human jewelry, early shell bracelets demonstrate trade routes, and the distinctive magatama, or comma shaped jewel, can be found in the archipelago and on the Korean peninsula, where it is known as "gogok".  Based on lines or even colored pigment on the haniwa, it appears that many of these outfits were actually quite heavily decorated.  Paint on the outfits is sometimes also placed on the face, suggesting that they either painted or tattooed themselves, something mentioned in the Wei Chronicles.  We also have archaeological examples of dyed cloth, so it is interesting that people are often depicted in undyed clothing.  There is one haniwa that I find particularly interesting, because they appear to be wearing more of a round-necked garment, and they have a hat that is reminiscent of the phrygian cap: a conical cap with the top bent forward.  These are traits common to some of the Sogdians and other Persian merchants along the silk road, raising the possibility that it is meant to depict a foreigner, though it is also possible that it was just another local style. If we compare this to the continent, we can see some immediate difference.  In the contemporaneous Sui dynasty, we can see long flowing robes, with large sleeves for men and women.  The shoes often had an upturned placket that appears to have been useful to prevent one from tripping on long, flowing garments.  Many of these outfits were also of the v-neck variety, with two overlapping pieces, though it is often shown held together with a fabric belt that is tied in front.  The hats appear to either be a kind of loose piece of fabric, often described as a turban, wrapped around the head, the ends where it ties together trailing behind, or black lacquered crowns—though there were also some fairly elaborate pieces for the sovereign. As Yamato started to import continental philosophy, governance, and religion, they would also start to pick up on continental fashion.  This seems particularly true as they adopted the continental concept of "cap rank" or "kan-i". Let's go over what we know about this system, from its first mention in the Chronicles up to where we are in Ohoama's reign. As a caveat, there is a lot we don't know about the details of these garments, but we can make some guesses. The first twelve cap-ranks, theoretically established in 603, are somewhat questionable in their historicity, as are so many things related to Shotoku Taishi.  And their names are clearly based on Confucian values:  Virtue, Humanity, Propriety, Faith, Justice, and Wisdom, or Toku, Nin, Rei, Shin, Gi, and Chi.  The five values and then just "Virtue", itself. The existence of this system does seem to be confirmed by the Sui Shu, the Book of Sui, which includes a note in the section on the country of Wa that they used a 12 rank system based on the Confucian values, but those values were given in the traditional Confucian order vice the order given in the Nihon Shoki.   The rank system of the contemporaneous Sui and Tang dynasties was different from these 12 ranks, suggesting that the Yamato system either came from older dynasties—perhaps from works on the Han dynasty or the Northern and Southern Dynasty, periods—or they got it from their neighbors, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  There does seem to be a common thread, though, that court rank was identifiable in one's clothes. As for the caps themselves, what did they look like?  One would assume that the Yamato court just adopted a continental style cap, and yet, which one? It isn't fully described, and there are a number of types of headwear that we see in the various continental courts. Given that, we aren't entirely sure exactly what it looked like, but we do have a couple of sources that we can look at and use to make some assumptions.  These sources l ead us to the idea of a round, colored cap made of fabric, around the brim that was probably the fabric or image prescribed for that rank.  It is also often depicted with a bulbous top, likely for the wearer's hair, and may have been tied to their top knot.     Our main source for this is the Tenjukoku Mandala Embroidery (Tenjukoku-mandara-shuuchou) at Chuuguuji temple, which was a temple built for the mother of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.    This embroidery was created in 622, so 19 years after the 12 ranks would have been implemented. It depicts individuals in round-necked jackets that appear to have a part straight down the center.  Beneath the jacket one can see a pleated hem, possibly something like a "hirami", a wrapped skirt that is still found in some ceremonial imperial robes.  It strikes me that this could also be the hem of something like the hanpi, which was kind of like a vest with a pleated lower edge.  Below that we see trousers—hakama—with a red colored hem—at least on one figure that we can see.  He also appears to be wearing a kind of slipper-like shoe. As for the women, there are a few that appear to be in the mandala, but it is hard to say for certain as the embroidery has been damaged over the years. That said, from what we can tell, women probably would have worn something similar to the men in terms of the jacket and the pleated under-skirt, but then, instead of hakama, we see a pleated full-length skirt, or mo.  We also don't have a lot of evidence for them wearing hats or anything like that. The round necked jacket is interesting as it appears to be similar to the hou that was common from northern China across the Silk Road, especially amongst foreigners.  This garment  came to displace the traditional robes of the Tang court and would become the basis for much of the court clothing from that period, onwards.  The round necked garment had central panels that overlapped, and small ties or fastenings at either side of the neck to allow for an entirely enclosed neckline.  This was more intricate than just two, straight collars, and so may have taken time to adopt, fully. The next change to the cap-rank system was made in 647, two years into the Taika Reform.  The ranks then were more directly named for the caps, or crowns—kanmuri—and their materials and colors.  The ranks translate to Woven, Embroidered, Purple, Brocade, Blue, Black, and finally "Establish Valor" for the entry level rank. The system gets updated two years later, but only slightly.  We still see a reference to Woven stuff, Embroidery, and Purple, but then the next several ranks change to Flower, Mountain, and Tiger—or possibly Kingfisher.  These were a little more removed from the cap color and material, and may have had something to do with designs that were meant to be embroidered on the cap or on the robes in some way, though that is just speculation based on later Ming and Qing court outfits. Naka no Ohoye then updates it again in 664, but again only a little.  He seems to add back in the "brocade" category, swapping out the "flower", and otherwise just adds extra grades within each category to expand to 26 total rank grades. And that brings us to the reforms of 685, mentioned last episode.  This new system was built around what appear to be moral exhortations—Upright, Straight, Diligent, Earnest, etc.  And that is great and all, but how does that match up with the official robes? What color goes with each rank category?  Fortunately, this time around, the Chronicle lays it out for us pretty clearly. First off we are given the color red for the Princely ranks—not purple as one might have thought.  Specifically, it is "Vermillion Flower", hanezu-iro, which Bentley translates as the color of the "Oriental bush" or salmon.  In the blogpost we'll link to a table of colors that the founder of Sengoku Daimyo, Anthony Bryant, had put together, with some explanation of how to apply it.  I would note that there is often no way to know exactly what a given color was like or what shades were considered an acceptable range.  Everything was hand-dyed, and leaving fabric in the dye a little longer, changing the proportions, or just fading over time could create slightly different variants in the hue, but we think we can get pretty close. From there we have the six "common" ranks for the nobility.  Starting with the first rank, Upright, we have "Dark Purple".  Then we have "Light Purple".  This pattern continues with Dark and Light Green and then Dark and Light Grape or Lilac.  Purple in this case is Murasaki, and green here is specifically Midori, which is more specifically green than the larger category of "Aoi", which covers a spectrum of blue to green.  The grape or lilac is specifically "suou", and based on Bentley's colors it would be a kind of purple or violet. The idea is that the official court outfits for each rank would be the proper color.  And yes, that means if you get promoted in rank, your first paycheck—or rice stipend—is probably going to pay for a new set of official clothes.  Fortunately for the existing court nobles at the time, in the last month of 685, the Queen provided court clothing for 55 Princes and Ministers, so they could all look the part. And the look at court was important.  In fact, several of the edicts from this time focus specifically on who was allowed—or expected—to wear what.  For instance, in the 4th month of 681, they established 92 articles of the law code, and among those were various sumptuary laws—that is to say, laws as to what you could wear.  We are told that they applied to everyone from Princes of the blood down to the common person, and it regulated the wearing of precious metals, pearls, and jewels; the type of fabric one could use, whether purple, brocade, embroidery, or fine silks; and it also regulated woollen carpets, caps, belts, and the colors of various things. And here I'd like to pause and give some brief thought to how this played into the goals of the court, generally, which is to say the goal of creating and establishing this new system of governance in the cultural psyche of the people of the archipelago.  From the continental style palaces, to the temples, and right down to the clothing that people were wearing, this was all orchestrated, consciously or otherwise, to emphasize and even normalize the changes that were being introduced.  When everything around you is conforming to the new rules, it makes it quite easy for others to get on board. The court had surrounded themselves with monumental architecture that was designed along continental models and could best be explained through continental reasoning.  Even if they weren't Confucian or Daoist, those lines of reasoning ran through the various cultural and material changes that they were taking up.  Sure, they put their own stamp on it, but at the same time, when everything is right in front of you, it would become that much harder to deny or push back against it. And when you participated in the important rituals of the state, the clothing itself became a part of the pageantry.  It reinforced the notion that this was something new and different, and yet also emphasized that pushing against it would be going against the majority.  So court uniforms were another arm of the state's propaganda machine, all designed to reinforce the idea that the heavenly sovereign—the Tennou—was the right and just center of political life and deserving of their position.  Getting back to the sumptuary laws and rank based regulations: It is unfortunate that the record in the Nihon Shoki doesn't tell us exactly how things were regulated, only that they were, at least in some cases.  So for anything more we can only make assumptions based on later rules and traditions.  A few things we can see right away, though.  First is the restriction of the color purple.  Much as in Europe and elsewhere in the world, getting a dark purple was something that was not as easy as one might think, and so it tended to be an expensive dye and thus it would be restricted to the upper classes—in this case the princely and ministerial rank, no doubt.  Similarly brocade and fine silks were also expensive items that were likely restricted to people of a particular social station for that reason. The mention of woolen rugs is particularly intriguing.  Bentley translates this as woven mattresses, but I think that woolen rugs makes sense, as we do have examples of woolen "rugs" in Japan in at least the 8th century, stored in the famous Shousouin repository at Toudaiji temple, in Nara.  These are all imported from the continent and are actually made of felt, rather than woven.  As an imported item, out of a material that you could not get in the archipelago, due to a notable lack of sheep, they would have no doubt been expensive. The funny thing is that the carpets in the Shousouin may not have been meant as carpets.  For the most part they are of a similar size and rectangular shape, and one could see how they may have been used as sleeping mattresses or floor coverings.  However, there is some conjecture that they came from the Silk Road and may have been originally meant as felt doors for the tents used by the nomadic steppe peoples.  This is only conjecture, as I do not believe any of these rugs have survived in the lands where they would have been made, but given the size and shape and the modern yurt, it is not hard to see how that may have been the case.  Either way, I tend to trust that this could very well have meant woolen rugs, as Aston and the kanji themselves suggest, though I would understand if there was confusion or if it meant something else as wool was not exactly common in the archipelago at that time or in the centuries following. The last section of the regulations talks about the use of caps and belts.  The caps here were probably of continental origin:  The kanmuri, or official cap of state of the court nobles, or the more relaxed eboshi—though at this time, they were no doubt closely related. In fact, a year later, we have the most specific mention to-date of what people were actually wearing on their heads: there is a mention of men tying up their hair and wearing caps of varnished gauze.  Earlier caps related to the cap rank system are often thought to be something like a simple hemisphere  that was placed upon the head, with a bulbous top where the wearer's hair could be pulled up as in a bun. The kanmuri seems to have evolved from the soft black headcloth that was worn on the continent, which would have tied around the head, leaving two ends hanging down behind.  Hairstyles of the time often meant that men had a small bun or similar gathering of hair towards the back of their head, and tying a cloth around the head gave the effect of a small bump.  This is probably what we see in depictions of the early caps of state.  Sometimes this topknot could be covered with a small crown or other decoration, or wrapped with a cloth, often referred to as a "Tokin" in Japanese.  But over time we see the development of hardened forms to be worn under a hat to provide the appropriate silhouette, whether or not you actually had a topknot (possibly helpful for gentlemen suffering from hair loss).  And then the hat becomes less of a piece of cloth and more just a hat of black, lacquered gauze made on a form, which was much easier to wear.  At this point in the Chronicle, the cap was likely still somewhat malleable, and would made to tie or be pinned to that bun or queue of hair.  This explains the mention of men wearing their hair up.  This pin would become important for several different types of headgear, but ties were also used for those who did not have hair to hold the hat on properly. Two years after the edict on hats, we get another edict on clothing, further suggesting that the court were wearing Tang inspired clothing.  In 685 we see that individuals are given leave to wear their outer robe either open or tied closed. This is a clue that this outer robe might something akin to the round-necked hou that we see in the Tenjukoku Mandala, where the neck seems to close with a small tie or button.  However, we do see some examples, later, of v-necked garments with a tie in the center of the neck, so that may be the reference..  Opening the collar of the formal robes was somewhat akin to loosening a necktie, or unbuttoning the top button of a shirt.  It provided a more relaxed and comfortable feeling.  It could also be a boon in the warm days of summer.  Leaving it closed could create a more formal appearance. The courtiers also had the option of whether or not to wear the "Susotsuki", which Bentley translates as "skirt-band".  I believe this refers to the nai'i, or inner garment.  This would often have a pleated hem—a suso or ran—which would show below the main robe as just a slight hem.  Again, this is something that many would dispense with in the summer, or just when dressing a bit more casually, but it was required at court, as well as making sure that the tassles were tied so that they hung down.  This was the uniform of the court.  We are also told that they would have trousers that could be tied up, which sounds like later sashinuki, though it may have referred to something slightly different.  We are also given some regulations specifically for women, such as the fact that women over 40 years of age were allowed the discretion on whether or not to tie up their hair, as well as whether they would ride horses astride or side-saddle.  Presumably, younger women did not get a choice in the matter.  Female shrine attendants and functionaries were likewise given some leeway with their hairstyles. A year later, in 686, they do seem to have relaxed the hairstyles a bit more: women were allowed to let their hair down to their backs as they had before, so it seems that, for at least a couple of years, women under the age of 40 were expected to wear their hair tied up in one fashion or another. In that same edict, men were then allowed to wear "habakimo".  Aston translates this as "leggings" while Bentley suggests it is a "waist skirt".  There are an example of extant habakimo in the Shousouin, once again, and they appear to be wrappings for the lower leg.  It actually seems very closely related to the "kyahan" depicted all the way back in the 6th century painting of the Wo ambassador to Liang. Even though these edicts give a lot more references to clothing, there is still plenty that is missing.  It isn't like the Chroniclers were giving a red carpet style stitch-by-stitch critique of what was being worn at court.  Fortunately, there is a rather remarkable archaeological discovery from about this time. Takamatsuzuka is a kofun, or ancient burial mound, found in Asuka and dated to the late 7th or early 8th century.  Compared to the keyhole shaped tombs of previous centuries, this tomb is quite simple: a two-tiered circular tomb nestled in the quiet hills.  What makes it remarkable is that the inside of the stone burial chamber was elaborately painted.  There are depictions of the four guardian animals, as well as the sun and the moon, as well as common constellations.  More importantly, though, are the intricate pictures of men and women dressed in elaborate clothing. The burial chamber of Takamatsuzuka is rectangular in shape.  There are images on the four vertical sides as well as on the ceiling.  The chamber is oriented north-south, with genbu, the black tortoise, on the north wall and presumably Suzaku, the vermillion bird, on the south wall—though that had been broken at some point and it is hard to make out exactly what is there. The east and west walls are about three times as long as the north and south walls.  In the center of each is a guardian animal—byakko, the white tiger, on the west wall and seiryuu, the blue—or green—dragon on the east.  All of these images are faded, and since opening of the tomb have faded even more, so while photos can help, it may require a bit more investigation and some extrapolation to understand all of what we are looking at. On the northern side of both the east and west wall we see groups of four women.  We can make out green, yellow, and red or vermillion outer robes with thin fabric belt sashes, or obi, tied loosely and low around the waist.  There is another, lightly colored—possibly white, cream or pink—that is so faded it is hard to make out, and I don't know if that is the original color.  These are v-necked robes, with what appear to be ties at the bottom of the "v".  Around the belt-sash we see a strip of white peaking out from between the two sides of the robe—most likely showing the lining on an edge that has turned back slightly.  The cuffs of the robe are folded back, showing a contrasting color—either the sleeves of an underrobe or a lining of some kind.  Below the outer robe is a white, pleated hem—possibly a hirami or similar, though where we can make it out, it seems to be the same or similar color as the sleeves.  Under all of that, they then have a relatively simple mo, or pleated skirt.  The ones in the foreground are vertically striped in alternating white, green, red, and blue stripes.  There is one that may just be red and blue stripes, but I'm not sure.  In the background we see a dark blue—and possibly a dark green—mo.  At the base of each mo is a pleated fringe that appears to be connected to the bottom of the skirt.  The toe of a shoe seems to peek out from underneath in at least one instance.  They don't have any obvious hair ornaments, and their hair appears to be swept back and tied in such a way that it actually comes back up in the back, slightly.  They appear to be holding fans and something that might be a fly swatter—a pole with what looks like tassels on the end. In comparison, at the southern end of the tomb we have two groups of men.  These are much more damaged and harder to make out clearly.  They have robes of green, yellow, grey, blue, and what looks like dark blue, purple, or even black.  The neckline appears to be a v-necked, but tied closed, similar to what we see on the women.  We also see a contrasting color at the cuff, where it looks like the sleeves have turned back, slightly.  They have belt-sashes similar to the women, made of contrasting fabric to the robe itself.  Below that we see white trousers, or hakama, and shallow, black shoes.  On some of the others it is suggested that maybe they have a kind of woven sandal, but that is hard to make out in the current image.  On their heads are hats or headgear of black, stiffened—probably lacquered—gauze.  They have a bump in the back, which is probably the wearer's hair, and there is evidence of small ties on top and larger ties in the back, hanging down.  Some interpretations also show a couple with chin straps, as well, or at least a black cord that goes down to the chin.  They carry a variety of implements, suggesting they are attendants, with an umbrella, a folding chair, a pouch worn around the neck, a pole or cane of some kind, and a bag with some kind of long thing—possibly a sword or similar. The tomb was originally found by farmers in 1962, but wasn't fully examined until 1970, with an excavation starting in 1972.  The stone at the entryway was broken, probably from graverobbers, who are thought to have looted the tomb in the Kamakura period.  Fortunately, along with the bones of the deceased and a few scattered grave goods that the robbers must have missed, the murals also survived, and somehow they remained largely intact through the centuries.  They have not been entirely safe, and many of the images are damaged or faded, but you can still make out a remarkable amount of detail, which is extremely helpful in determining what clothing might have looked like at this time—assuming it is depicting local individuals. And there is the rub, since we don't know exactly whom the tomb was for.  Furthermore, in style it has been compared with Goguryeo tombs from the peninsula, much as nearby Kitora kofun is.  Kitora had images as well, but just of the guardian animals and the constellations, not of human figures. There are three theories as to who might have been buried at Takamatsuzuka.  One theory is that it was one of Ohoama's sons.  Prince Osakabe is one theory, based on the time of his death and his age.  Others have suggested Prince Takechi.  Based on the teeth of the deceased, they were probably in their 40s to 60s when they passed away. Some scholars believe that it may be a later, Nara period vassal—possibly, Isonokami no Maro.  That would certainly place it later than the Asuka period. The third theory is that it is the tomb of a member of one of the royal families from the Korean peninsula—possibly someone who had taken up refuge in the archipelago as Silla came to dominate the entire peninsula.  This last theory matches with the fact that Takamatsuzuka appears to be similar to tombs found in Goguryeo, though that could just have to do with where the tomb builders were coming from, or what they had learned. That does bring up the question of the figures in the tomb.  Were they contemporary figures, indicating people and dress of the court at the time, or were they meant to depict people from the continent?  Without any other examples, we may never know, but even if was indicative of continental styles, those were the very styles that Yamato was importing, so it may not matter, in the long run.     One other garment that isn't mentioned here is the hire, a scarf that is typically associated with women.  It is unclear if it has any relationship to the sashes we see in the Kofun period, though there is at least one mention of a woman with a hire during one of the campaigns on the Korean peninsula.  Later we see it depicted as a fairly gauzy piece of silk, that is worn somewhat like a shawl.  It is ubiquitous in Sui and Tang paintings of women, indicating a wide-ranging fashion trend.  The hire is a fairly simple piece of clothing, and yet it creates a very distinctive look which we certainly see, later. Finally, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that almost everything we have discussed here has to do with the elites of society—the nobles of the court.  For most people, working the land, we can assume that they were probably not immediately adopting the latest continental fashions, and they probably weren't dressing in silk very much.  Instead, it is likely that they continued to wear some version of the same outfits we see in the haniwa figures of the kofun period.  This goes along with the fact that even as the elite are moving into palaces built to stand well above the ground, we still have evidence of common people building and living in pit dwellings, as they had been for centuries.  This would eventually change, but overall they stuck around for quite some time.  However, farmers and common people are often ignored by various sources—they aren't often written about, they often aren't shown in paintings or statues, and they did often not get specialized burials.  Nonetheless, they were the most populous group in the archipelago, supporting all of the rest. And with that, I think we will stop for now.  Still plenty more to cover this reign.  We are definitely into the more historical period, where we have more faith in the dates—though we should remember that this is also one of the reigns that our sources were specifically designed to prop up, so we can't necessarily take everything without at least a hint of salt and speculation, even if the dates themselves are more likely to be accurate. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

//The Wire//2300Z October 29, 2025////ROUTINE////BLUF: ANOTHER STABBING STRIKES BRITAIN AS TENSIONS REMAIN HIGH. WAR CONTINUES IN MIDDLE EAST. HURRICANE MAKES LANDFALL IN JAMAICA.// -----BEGIN TEARLINE------International Events-United Kingdom: Another stabbing was reported this morning, which resulted in the murder of a woman at a residential address in Brixton. One male assailant was arrested for the murder at the McCormick House in Tulse Hill, after being tased by responding officers.Middle East: The war continues as before, with a large-scale bombing campaign being undertaken in Gaza. PM Netanyahu stated that he ordered "forceful strikes" to be carried out in the region, which mostly were carried out in Gaza City and Rafah. Approximately 82x casualties were reported as a result of the strikes.Analyst Comment: The reason for the airstrikes is not entirely clear, IDF officials cited some unnamed incident in Rafah, but did not go into any further detail. Either way, once the strikes were complete, the ceasefire was declared to be on again.Caribbean: Overnight Hurricane Melissa made landfall on the island of Jamaica, with widespread devastation being reported throughout the nation. Large-scale flooding was also reported in Cuba after the hurricane made landfall there a few hours later. So far, the scale of the disaster is not fully known in either nation, as it will take some time to understand where the hardest-hit areas are located.-HomeFront-Mississippi: This morning local authorities clarified the details of yesterday's escape of medical research monkeys; initial reports that one monkey remained at large were untrue. A re-count revealed that actually 3x monkeys remain at large in Jasper County.-----END TEARLINE-----Analyst Comments: In the United Kingdom, the victim of yesterday's stabbing attack has been identified as Wayne Broadhurst, and a vigil was held in Uxbridge overnight. The two other victims have not been identified yet, however one was reportedly a 14-year-old and an older man who remains in critical condition. The suspect was also identified as Safi Dawood, from Afghanistan.This attack has once more inflamed already high tensions, and so far no high ranking official in government has even acknowledged that the brutal attack took place. The Migration Minister is so far the only one in government to acknowledge the attack, and he only did so to condemn any misinformation about the event (but notably not actually stating that any misinformation was occurring). In any case, ignoring the crime like this has dialed up anger to new heights, and the various "counter" movements gaining traction around the nation have been cause for concern as well. These "counter" movements have mostly spoken for themselves in terms of highlighting what's going on throughout British society.Concerning the Kebatu case from a few days ago, details continue to be released that make the situation worse. Kebatu was deported to Ethiopia immediately after his recapture, after which he recorded a video explaining what happened from his perspective. His testimony included the detail that he did become aware that he was wanted during his escapade throughout London, and that he tried to turn himself in to a uniformed police officer. According to Kebatu himself, the officer ignored him and drove off. Granted, this is the testimony of a rapist and illegal migrant, so the sourcing is not exactly the most reliable. Nevertheless, this testimony does align with the public details of the scandal as it unfolded and has caused a lot more focus on the response to this scandal.Analyst: S2A1Research: https://publish.obsidian.md/s2underground//END REPORT//

We will be discussing MULTIPLE cases where black people were found PUBLICLY HANGED FROM TREES… and the local authorities deemed their deaths to be suicide. So JOIN US for an episode that will have you 38 HOT, as we discuss Suspicious Hangings.RIP to the victims