Podcasts about Holy shit

Holy Shit – was für ein Saisonfinale!
Die EuroLeague geht in die heiße Phase und es könnte kaum spannender sein. Nach der bitteren Pleite gegen Maccabi zählt für den FC Bayern Basketball jetzt nur noch eins: ein Sieg gegen Fenerbahce! Leichter gesagt als getan – schließlich sind die alles andere als Laufkundschaft. Im SAP Garden braucht's also volle Power und eine ordentliche Portion rote Magie. Welche Szenarien jetzt noch für die Bayern drin sind? Darüber sprechen wir in dieser Episode.
Außerdem schauen wir auf ALBA Berlin, sprechen über Tuomas Iisalo – und Basti nimmt bei den Magenta-internen EuroLeague Awards kein Blatt vor den Mund. Also, let's go! Und falls ihr uns Sprachnachrichten zukommen lassen wollt, könnt ihr das gerne unter folgender Nummer tun: 0151 566 58 335

Damon talks 49ers draft, corner backs, and gets some major NBA news delivered to him during the show.0:34: The 49ers draft rumor that just doesn't make sense: Secondary Guessing13:00: If CMC is not the 49ers best player next season, the team is gonna have problems19:00: ‘HOLY SHIT' — Damon finds out about the Mike Malone firing in real time26:26: The Transfer Portal rant:30:50: 3 things to like about the Giants and the City Connect jersey rant:38:12: The TikTok dance rant:46:07: Today in history:

The last days before the Great Hunt.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“Can the scorpion ever stop being a scorpion? “"Do we get our legally permitted weaponry back?" The bishop still held my hand."Sure. If it makes you feel better.""I would like to meet your people then," he gave my paw one last shake then released me. "Shall we go?""I will have someone take you to your car. I want to briefly meet with the President, of Havenstone, then I'll join you in the garage. We'll drive over to JIKIT and I'll make the introductions. Good enough?""That is acceptable," he nodded."What about you two?" I regarded the nun and the Swiss Super-soldier. The nun remained vigilant, and silent. The Swiss' eyes flickered to his boss before settling back on me."It is what I volunteered for," he stated firmly."Okay. Please never say I didn't give you a chance to take the sane way out. Also, Bishop Nicolö, circumstances have conspired to up my prospective wedding date to January 1st.""That will be more difficult. Why the change?" he remained grim."We are having twins. By March, this will be very visible.""That is, unfortunate," he shook his head."You have no idea," and then a brainstorm. "And I am curious about resurrecting the Order of the Dragon, the Societas Draconistarum." Technically that meant 'Society of the Dragonists' which was more appropriate than the literal Ordo Draconis."Precisely how do you plan to recreate a crusading Christian Order which was the purview of the Hungarian monarchs?" he didn't sound the least skeptical, just curious."I have billions of euros to fund such a thing," I winked. "Of far greater critical importance, I know where I can find the supernatural guidance and spiritual imperative for such an organization.""You are going to produce a dragon?" his eyes grew larger even as he fought down his fear. Good man. He was adaptive. He'd need to be."I never said such a thing. That would make me sound crazy," I smiled broadly. "Besides, when I say 'dragon', you think 'devil' and that's way too pedestrian for where we are going.""I am not a moral relativist.""Neither am I. I'm out to save lives and nurture the drive in the human spirit to reach for freedom, love and liberty. As you might imagine, I'm pretty freaking outnumbered.""I think you are crazy," he re-evaluated things."I just might be. In all honesty, you should back out now. Take your two compadres back to 25 East 39th Street (the Holy See's Permanent Observer Offices to the UN in NYC) and report 'Mission Failure'. You'll most likely live longer," I reasoned."I am not afraid to die," Sister Rafaela Sophia finally voiced an opinion."That's idiotic," I scoffed before the bishop could reprimand her for opening her mouth. "You should be.""My soul is in God's hands," she set her jaw."Does he talk to you?" I countered."His message is clear.""Not what I asked. I asked if he specifically directed you to toss your life fruitlessly away as an object lesson for the reckless, or careless?""This is uncalled for," Nicolö intervened."Nope. I bet you a phone call to my Brother to physically restore your bishopric that there are four people in this room who have murdered in cold blood," I kept eye contact with the nun, "and she's the odd one out. Right Juanita?""Yes, Ishara," Juanita slipped up. Her spycraft, like mine, needed work."You were in the military?" the bishop asked my bodyguard."Was? I am. Right now," she related. "I will be until I die."That earned me looks from the three Catholics."She is loyal," Nicolö nodded slightly toward her, referring to Juanita's declaration."Huh? To me? Nope. She's loyal to my office, which we shan't get into right now. Back to you, Sister Rafaela Sophia. Are you out to be a martyr, or has some saint, or angel, given you a directive the other two seem to be unaware of which causes you to devalue your life?""I am devoted to the One True God, Christ, our Savior," and Juanita snorted, "and the Virgin Mary," the nun stated firmly. "I don't hear voices in my head.""Juanita, that was rude. Apologize to our guest," I kept looking forward."No." Well, fuck you too."Gun," I commanded. I held out my left hand."What? No. I will not give you one of my guns," she resisted."Juanita, give me your primary weapon, or I will ask Pamela to beat you up the moment I depart for the Great Hunt. After yesterday's stunt, you know she will," I threatened. Fair, I was not. She drew a Glock-20 and handed it to me. I went through the routine, dropped the magazine then ejected the round before opening the door.Oh look, there were four SD chicks outside, ready to escort my visitors downstairs. I didn't even need to waste a phone call. It wasn't like the conference room wasn't being monitored."Excuse me," I took a half step out the door then hurled all three items down the hall. Looking back at Juanita. "Go fetch.""Fuck you," she snapped."And insulting her faith was as degrading to both her faith and her as me doing this to you is degrading to you right now," I lectured her. "It is important to her, therefore it is important to me because she is my guest in the same way it is important to me that I let my bodyguard do her job without being a total asshole all the time. Now go get your God-damn weapon," I barked. Off she went. I left the door open."Now Sister Rafaela Sophia, the point of all this is: I don't give a crap if you are willing to die for God. In fact, that makes you less than worthless to me and the team. I want to know if you are willing to put other motherfuckers in the ground so that Bishop Nicolá, or Mathias, might get to keep doing their jobs.""Murder is a sin," she declared."Go home," I sighed while shaking my head."She answers to me, the Church and God, not you, Mr. Nyilas," the bishop stepped forward."Then you can go home too," I shrugged. "I'm not asking for remorseless killers. I'm asking for people willing to kill to get the hard work done and best of all, for people who know the difference.""Everyone on JIKIT is a professional soldier, or killer?" he asked."No, but the ones who aren't don't carry guns and know to get down when things get funky," I bantered."I vouch for her," he insisted. Juanita came running back into the room."Cool beans. I don't know you either.""You apparently know my service history," he volleyed."Yeah. Ten years a foreigner in the service of France, then you went straight into a university which turns out Jesuits," I riposted."What turned your life around?" he evaded. That was okay. I'd gotten what I wanted. I was willing to bet he had read every bit of public information about me and it was rumored the heavy Catholic membership in the FBI had its benefits to the Church as well. Not so much as to give them insight into JIKIT, but,"Someone risked their life for me. It's been pretty much downhill from there," I confessed. It was the truth. After Katrina gave me the life line on Day Two, it had all spiraled to the revelation of my heritage, Dad's death, Summer Camp, the Hamptons, Romania and Aya's kidnapping."A person, a soldier, died saving my life," the bishop empathized. "Her story is similar. She seeks redemption. She is not suicidal. I am staking both our lives on it."Did he mean him and Mathias, or him and me? I wasn't certain. Still, it was good enough for now. I'd gotten a look at their emotional make up, even the relatively quiet Swiss."Very well," I agreed. "I have to go see the President about my new job description. I'll catch up with you at your car." To the SD team leader, "Take them to the garage. I will join the group of you very soon.""Yes Ishara," she nodded. I exited the room, Juanita in tow. Two SD entered. I was gone before the Papal team left. Upstairs we went, with one last chore to discharge. I had to check on Ms. French to be absolutely freaking sure it was Shawnee, because anyone else would spell disaster.{8:30 am, Monday, September 8th. Last day}A Room full of asistants:Well, there it was, the office of the Executive Director to the President, and not 'Executive Assistant', because this was Katrina's final 'fuck you, no, just her final 'fuck you' before the Great Hunt got underway. I shouldn't assume things, dang it!Anyway, according to the gray-haired matron running gatekeeper to the Office of the President, this was where I was supposed to show up. I shot Juanita a worried look. She glanced my way and shrugged, momentarily willing to not give me shit about the past 24 hours because where I was situated would determine how easily she could do her job.In we went. In the suite were three desks, the 'big' desk situated at the far end of the office space and two far more modest ones on either side of the entryway. The room expanded beyond the chokepoint formed by the two closest desks into a cluttered area. The walls were cluttered with inset bookshelves and portraits of women. Facing one another were a loveseat on my left with bookend plush chairs in an 'L' facing and a full sofa on the right. There were end tables at the ends of the sofa and the corners between the loveseat and each chair.As the door opened, I hadn't knock as this was my office, or so it seemed, the occupants, who had all been sitting in quiet conversation in the central section, began reacting. Oh look ~ Constanza! I nearly had a heart attack before I realized there were three other Amazons also in the room. Sadly, none were behind the 'big desk', so I couldn't tell who was in charge. Two of the other three choices weren't too much better. First off,"Ishara," Marilynn Saint John stood to greet me. I'd last seen her when I'd dedicated her grandmother's (Hayden's) spirit to the halls of my ancestors, not hers, after forcing the political crisis leading to Hayden's suicide ~ her taking herself to the cliffs and in doing so, destroying the Amazon Cult of Blood Purity. Marilynne was clearly still bitter with me. Umm, I could still incite passion in women I hadn't slept with, yet, woot?"Cáel," the senior-most and only friendly face in the room spoke next. Thank goodness it was Beyoncé Vincennes, Head of House Hanwasuit and House Ishara ally."Cáel Ishara," the third individual was deferential which I wasn't sure how to take as the last time I'd encountered her, yeah, things hadn't gone well either."Beyoncé," I started off with a smile. From there, I had to figure out, ah, Beyoncé's eyes flickered to Constanza then Sabia. I knew Marilynn, with her young age, had the least seniority, "Constanza, Sabia, Marilynn. How's tricks?"Glum faces by everyone except Beyoncé. I didn't ask about Sabia's particular well-being. It had been months since I'd beaten her into the mats of the Full-blooded gym. She'd attacked Yasmin, the Brazilian Hottie and my Brazilian Jujutsu sparring buddy, and I'd retaliated by ambushed her when she turned her back on us. Besides, she'd been giving me shit before I even could see straight.Constanza was minus her left eye because of her dire insult to me. If she wasn't capable of working, she wouldn't be here. If she appreciated my 'mercy' in sparing her life ~ her insult was worthy of her death ~ Constanza hid it well. I hadn't spared her expecting a change of heart. I hadn't felt words alone warranted anyone's death. I was a big boy and could take a few insults. House Ishara, as represented by me, could care less. These days, my sisters would be less understanding despite them knowing my heart."Constanza Landau of House Jaya and Marilynn Saint John of House Anahit are Assistants to President Shawnee French," Beyoncé eased things along, "so will be working closely with us, at least for the short term. Sabia Noel of House Guabancex, who I now think you know as well, has joined you as the other 'Assistant' to the 'Executive Director to the President', (that would make me an 'adept', but adept at what?), and since two of the three Regents are unfamiliar with the workings of Havenstone proper, Shawnee has asked me to perform in that role."Beyoncé was, or had been, Havenstone HQ's CFO (Chief Financial Officer). From what I was quickly piecing together, she would essentially be making all the day-to-day decisions concerning the running of Havenstone (how the Host made the majority of its money) until the Regents got up to speed.Only Buffy had actual experience with the New York office and, from what she had told me, solely within Executive Services. While ES knew 'who' did what inside Havenstone, they weren't aware precisely how those Amazons got their jobs done. That would have been an impossible task. Katrina could do it, but she knew it was beyond the ability of most of us 'mere mortals'. Since we were currently at war, the Host needed Katrina completely focused on her duties as Chief Spy-mistress, not baby-sitting the adults.Shawnee indeed had much gravitas among the other House Heads. Not only had she risen up to lead a First House, she had performed heroically during the final days of the last Secret War. Afterwards she had moved into the realm of Amazon jurisprudence and mediation. Until yesterday, she had lived in a House Arinniti freehold in Minnesota's Great Lakes region thus her desire for the 'Training Wheels' period.The Regency would not rule through telecommunication (the upper echelons feared being eavesdropped upon beyond the standard Amazon (read: paranoid) levels) and Havenstone: New York was the center best situated for the current war-fighting operations, so here she lived. I was sure a team from Executive Services was buying, outfitting/spy-proofing and fortifying a dwelling suitable for the President of a Fortune 500 company. Hayden's home would remain the domicile of Sydney thus Marilynn.The same rigmarole would be done for Rhada and Buffy (though I imaged Buffy would bitch endlessly). Publically, they were VP's of a company worth hundreds of billions of dollars and they had to present the public trappings of such leaders.Why did the Amazons do this ~ unmask their leadership to public exposure? Legal-simple: they could request and expect all levels of public and private security for their executives who happened to also be important officials of the Host. Certainly not all executives at Havenstone were officeholders, House Heads, or House Apprentices, but the high level of competence which permitted one often led to the other.Beyonce:As an example: Beyoncé wasn't the most 'bad-ass' lethal chick in House Hanwasuit. As she was preparing to be casted, her intelligence, creativity and diligence at her future craft, finances, was noted by the Host and the members of her House. In due time her name was circulated as Apprentice and the elders approved. When her elder cousin, the prior House Head, took herself to the cliffs, Beyoncé assumed the top spot. Beyoncé wasn't even one of that woman's three daughters.Mirroring her advancement in her House was her advancement in Havenstone's Accounting, Acquisitions and Banking Divisions until she was appointed CFO Havenstone HQ ~ the supreme financial authority inside Havenstone, though the individual regional branches had a greater degree of autonomy than you might normally expect from a 21st century conglomerate, or a Bronze Age autocracy.I had to constantly remind myself, despite the near-constant feuding, Amazons exhibited a phenomenally higher level of trust than I'd ever found in any other society I'd ever witnessed, or read about, before. Though technically Beyoncé could have gone to President Hayden to enforce her decisions ~ or now the Regency ~ she was far more diplomatic in her approach in dealing with the other 'continental' CEO's and CFO's.That meant she had to wrangle the aspirations and resources from:North America (including Latin America, the 'Canadian Arctic' and the North Pacific Ocean),South America (includes both the South Atlantic and South Pacific as far as Samoa),Europe (mostly Central Europe these days plus Antarctica, the 'Russian' Arctic and the North Atlantic),Africa (mostly West-central Africa),India (the subcontinent plus the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean) and,Southeast Asia (which includes Australia)All of which suggested Havenstone hadn't redrawn the Amazons' geographic demarcations since the late 19th century. As an example, an East African venture, say in Tanzania, was as likely to be under the purview of Havenstone: India (due to its control over the Indian Ocean) as Havenstone: Africa (which traditionally had no East Coast holdings due to their constant struggles versus the Arabic slave trade).Returning to Beyoncé: initially she had held the proper 'conservative' (aka man-hating) mindset. My behavior during that first Board Meeting began to change her opinion of me and the New Directive. After the Archery Range incident, Beyoncé became a vocal proponent of the New Directive and faced challenges within her ranks. House Heads do not have to accept challenges and Beyoncé didn't, reasoning with her detractors they had no alternatives save the 'Old Ways' which spelled doom for the Amazon Race.Bing-bang-boom ~ I became the Head of a resurrected House Ishara by the Will of the Ancestors and Beyoncé was vindicated. Not necessarily in the New Directive, but in her support of me thus the rebirth of a sister First House. The purge following High Priestess' Hayden's death was her ultimate absolution. The Ancestors and Destiny had spoken and shown Beyoncé had been piloting House Hanwasuit along the proper course all along.Back to my current circumstances:Oh, why was I Assistant to the Executive Director to the President? It gave me direct access to the finances of Havenstone which was a critical leg of the war-fighting stool ~ people, morale, money and equipment. As Chief Diplomat, I helped with all four of those in varying degrees, allied troops, allied victories, allied bank accounts and allied armaments.The Great Khan, my spiritual 'Blood-Brother', was ramping up his logistic support for my Amazons in Africa, Asia and the Americas. We were 'Allies in the Struggle' and he wasn't going to wait for the Condottieri to begin coordinating with the Seven Pillars to declare them to be his enemies. They were already fighting the Amazons and 9 Clans, his allies, so their fates were sealed.In Japan, my Amazons provided small yet highly effective strike groups which the Ninja families furnished all the support services for. Everything from food to bullets to medical attention as needed. Without reservation, we shared their death-grapple with the Seven Pillars.From the dispatches I was getting back from my family members and envoys in Japan, we were making serious diplomatic inroads with the Ninja. Once again, it was the Amazons shocking capacity for violence as well as their fanaticism, professionalism and proficiency which all impressed our hosts and terrified our enemies, and this from people of a philosophical mindset which had them historically battling samurai.The Black Lotus were running around like rhesus monkeys on crack cocaine unleashed in a China Shop and given RPG's. While the Amazons couldn't help them in China, Indochina & Thailand ~ the Khanate could and was. The Amazons were of more help in the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia, where the Black Lotus and Amazons were going everywhere on the offensive against the Seven Pillars while the normal tight cohesion and iron-clad confidence, traits which made the 7P's so dangerous ~ were shaken by their horrendous losses in the 'Homeland' aka Mainland China.Less we forget, the 'military intelligence' wing of their organization had been decimated by the Khanate's Anthrax attack due to members of the Earth & Sky sacrificing themselves by being injected with the toxin then allowing themselves to be captured, which always ended in torture and death.Furthermore, the People's Republic of China, while having a scary 18% of the population either captured, imprisoned, dead, or displaced due to the Khanate invasion, that had come with the loss of 63% of their landmass (they had lost all of Nei Mongol, Ningxia & Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Regions, Qinghai and Gansu as well as 90% of Yunnan, 80% of Sichuan and 20% of Shaanxi provinces) to the Khanate and the 'abomination' that was a free Tibet.Then came the Russian 'stab in the back' which entailed the loss of another 10% of their people falling under foreign dominion as well as losing 8% of their most industrialized territory, Manchuria (Heilongjiang, Jilin and Liaoning provinces ~ the Nei Mongol portion of 'Manchuria' was in the Khanate's greedy clutches, from the viewpoint of a Seven P's warrior).Don't get me wrong, they weren't about to throw in the towel. If anything, they were becoming more dedicated to trying harder, digging deep into their knowledge of every atrocity, inhumanity and perversion now deemed necessary to re-chart history back onto its 'correct' path. It was this willingness to act in an even greater sociopathic manner which was being used against them. After all, the 7P's had plenty of proxy allies, who were starting to get really nervous about what their paymasters were now asking them to do,We Amazons were getting some extra special help too. The Booth-gan (Do not call them Thuggee ~ the confederate 9 Clan member based out of India though long since ensconced within various Hindi enclaves across the Globe) had created an all-female group of ultra-fanatical Kali-devotees ~ a gift for the upcoming battle fomented by the Will of the Goddess herself.While Aya was our Queen and the Regency would rule until she wished to assume command of the Amazon People, the nuts-and-bolts of the Host's activities were handled by Saint Marie as Golden Mare (our Minister of War) (technically she held the top spot due to our State of War, though no Golden Mare had ever exercised such authority over a Queen (and she definitely believed Aya was our Queen)), Katrina (as Minister of Intelligence and Security), Beyoncé (as Havenstone (the multinational corporation) ~ our Treasurer/Economic Tsarina) and me (our Foreign Minister).Saint Marie had decided to forgo a public face in order to better facilitate her moving around to various battle fronts and holding clandestine meetings with her junior regional commanders. Her Havenstone corporate title was 'Chief of Security Training and Certification'. As an extra level of deception, the head of Security Services wasn't even a Director-level position, instead being folded into the duties of the Office of the President.To my current circumstances ~ I had been given Constanza's house name which could only mean she wasn't currently assigned to the Security Detail; a fact that couldn't have made her bad attitude any better. Marilynn had completely lost her way as an Amazon when I first met her, burying her pain and confusion in endless partying and intoxicants. I believed only her grandmother's status as High Priestess kept her from the severest of reprimands, or death. I didn't even know what Marilynn's caste was. Sabia,"While I'm sure you are both far more qualified than I, precisely how did you two get these jobs?" I had to ask my two non-coworkers. Constanza glowered. Marilynn flinched."I have an in depth knowledge of Havenstone security procedures and resources," Constanza replied."Shawnee requested me," was Marilynn's comeback. "I also have intimate knowledge of the City of New York and its environs.""Actually, Buffy Ishara recommended you both to Shawnee," Beyoncé corrected their misconceptions. I knew the score. I'd be working intimately with the tight community around the President (Shawnee) and Vice Presidents (Buffy & Rhada). Buffy wanted me to be surrounded by women who hated my guts, so I wouldn't end up boinking them. It rarely worked that way. All too often ladies who hated my still-beating heart ended up punishing me with sex. I wasn't sure why that happened, but it did."Beyoncé, didn't the Chief Diplomat of the Host have her own office? I'm pretty sure Troika had one before her unfortunate collision with Saint Marie," I felt entitled to inquire."Do you feel you've earned that office space?" she riposted."Oh, fuck no!" I waved my hands one over the other to accentuate my denial. "I was just wondering where I could stick Juanita while I'm hanging around, here.""She has the desk right outside the door, Cáel," Beyoncé smiled knowingly. "So there is no way you can sneak past her.""Oh," I grunted. "Buffy again?""No. Pamela Pile put in that particular request.""Oh, Sweet Mother of God, now she is conspiring against me too?""Yes. Some of us realize the greatest hazard to your health is yourself, Ishara," Beyoncé chided me. "We'd like to keep you around, so we listen to those charged with that nigh impossible task.""Is she going to be hanging around the office often?" Constanza asked, either myself, Juanita, or Beyoncé; I wasn't sure. She = Pamela."Please, Constanza," I attempted to intervene, "don't make Pamela kill you. It will upset Mona." Constanza's scowl was accentuated by the eyepatch covering her ruined left socket, the one Pamela had carved out when Constanza had insulted me and House Ishara on our first day of rebirth. I didn't tell Juanita this, because Juanita might just shoot Constanza over the insult before Pamela got a chance to finish the job.The tension was palatable."Mona and I have talked, about Romania, and other things," Constanza grudgingly allowed. It took me a second to realize there was a hidden meaning to what she said. Mona was part of my personal Security Detail bodyguard unit. If she felt Constanza, the woman who had raised her after her birth-mother had died, was a threat to me, she'd feel duty-bound to snuff Constanza first. Amazons were hard-ass bitches alright and I think Mona had made that clear."I hope things can improve between us," I offered to Constanza. "Beyoncé, I just stopped in to say 'hey'. I'm off to JIKIT and I've got three of the Pope's people waiting on me in the garage so,""Vice President Varma requested a moment of your time," Beyoncé smirked. "She is in 2604.""Who?""Vice President Rhada Varma, a moment of your time, alone?" she clarified."Sure thing," I backed out of the office. Once I had some space, I turned to Juanita. "Give me three minutes then bust in and say, I don't know, a tsunami is about to overwhelm the city, or something. Otherwise, I won't get out for at least an hour and I think I've put the Bishop and his people through enough delays as it is.""Are you actually asking me to stop you from having an in-office liaison?" she studied me intently as we walked in the direction of Rhada's office."Yes. It's not likely to happen often, believe me.""Oh, I do, in that you won't ask me to do it often," she grumbled. I'd deal with Juanita's morale problem later. Right now, I had to gird my loins so they wouldn't do anything else with Rhada. I had work to do, damn it!Rhada was sitting at her desk, working on something, stylus raised up so she could chew on the end. Her hair was pulled back in a half-ponytail, the type that captured the rear half of the hair in a ponytail while leaving the front and bangs free to flow down. Rhada's blouse was white & billowy and, as I was soon to discover, her pants were ultra-tight and contour hugging."Mr. Nyilas," she greeted me. "I would like a moment of your time," she relayed what I already knew. She was more than a tad nervous to boot."Vice President Varma," I started off."When in private you may call me Rhada," she interrupted."Rhada, you look more ravishing than ever."That got up her and coming around her desk, which revealed her ultra-tight pants with no sign of her wearing underwear. Yikes! My cock was preparing to do what a cock was meant to do and I just didn't have the time, Really!"Do you have any time?" she let her bosom heave."Not today, ugh," I groaned. See, Rhada took the stylus and dragged it down her chin, throat and in between her bountiful mounds.All of which exposed the top of her black bra."Are you sure, Master?" she enticed me by turning around and then leaning over her desk, point that ass in my direction. My mouth began salivating and my groin ached. I found myself quick-stepping to her and giving those buttocks two firm slaps, one on each cheek."No, damn it, though I'm going to make you pay for this when I get back," I rumbled."Master will make me wait?" she taunted me."That will cost you even more," I growled. "I have business which simply won't wait and here is my captive teasing me with the treasures of her flesh. Bad, war captive," I spanked her yet again, hard. "Bad!" and I spanked her a fourth time. With each beating, Rhada gasped in pain and then exhaled in pleasure."If I've been bad, Master must be extra harsh with me when he returns in triumph from the Great Hunt," she gloated. Rhada had gotten what she wanted, which was another affirmation of my lust for her and our 'game'. I could provide her the release she so desperately craved while allowing her the safety of remaining in the Amazon fold. It was a perfect pairing, for her.I had other problems, such as all the other baby mamas in my life plus the extra-marital affairs I was contemplating. I still took the moments we had to snuggle with Rhada, her grinding that tush into my rod while I held both her arms tightly to her side while raining kisses down onto her neck and head."Sir! A giant tsunami is approaching the city!" Juanita exploded through the door."What?" I coughed. I had a face full of hair."Huh?" Rhada pushed up and away from me. I let her go."Right now," Juanita insisted. She really needed to stop taking me so seriously when I gave her such advice."Really?" from Rhada. She shot me a curious look so I shrugged. What else was I supposed to do with such a flimsy lie forcing our separation? At least I got out of there on time?{9:50 am, Monday, September 8th ~ Last day}(JKIT HQ)"Is this a common occurrence?" Sister Rafaela Sophia whispered to the closest woman, who happened to be Wiesława, the Polish Amazon. Since she hadn't arrived with us from Havenstone, the nun might have assumed she was with the 'Americans', or British."What?" Wiesława responded evenly."Weapons combat, they look real," the nun clarified."They are real. We always practice with real weapons.""Really?""Of course," Wiesława smiled at her. "We believe a few cuts and scrapes now will save lives when the true tests come.""Oh, you are with, Havenstone?" Rafaela clued in."Yes. I am Wiesława of House Živa. I am currently assigned to Unit L, Cáel's unit within JIKIT," she offered her hand to shake. Despite being a full-blooded Amazon from a freehold, her 'human' skills were progressing nicely. The nun shook it."I am Sister Rafaela Sophia of the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that is a Roman Catholic Religious Order." Pause. "Do you hate Catholics too?""Yes. We have lived beside your people for many centuries and found your clergy to be much more dangerous than your pagan predecessors. Still, Cáel thinks you can be relied on and he's proven we can trust outsider women, which I was raised to believe was unlikely, and outsider men, which was basically anathema, so I'm willing to set aside my prejudices and judge you as an individual," the Pole imparted."Outsider men?" Rafaela mumbled."Well, yes," Wiesława smirked. "You are a nun, right?""Yes.""So you set aside the World of Men to live mostly among women, right?""Not entirely," the nun chose her words carefully. "We still rely on priests for religious rights and of course obey the life teachings of Christ and follow the leadership of his Holiness, the Pope, a man.""No one is perfect," the Amazon bantered back."Do you know the teachings of our Lord, Jesus Christ?" Rafaela ventured into dangerous waters."Yes. He was the semi-historical Son of your supposed One True God. We are not monotheists. We are Polytheists. Živa is my House's matron Goddess. It is also the name of the first woman to lead the House, her birth name surrendered to Destiny so all the daughters who came afterwards would be equals.""Oh, is Mr. Nyilas also pagan?" she inquired."I am unsure. From what I have been told, he has commended the spirit of his fallen father to your Jesus in a sacred ceremony then, in the presence of your Trinity and the Goddess Ishara, brought in new members to his House. I suspect he may be both," Wiesława reasoned. "Why don't you ask him?""Because he's fighting for his life?" Rafaela looked my way.See, the entire time their discussion had been going on, I had been sparring in a spare room at JIKIT HQ with Estere Abed, the Hashashin assassin (rather redundant ~ like saying the Sahara Desert). I had two tomahawks while she had a scimitar and curved dagger. While we sparred using the furniture as obstacles, Agent-86 was briefing me on various World events to get my input.Addison Stuart (CIA) and Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke (MI-6) were having a chat with Bishop Nicolé de Santis, verifying for themselves he was worth adding to the team. Juanita was having a similar discussion with Rikki Martin (US State Department) concerning my earlier encounter with the Papal team. Nicolé's buddy, Wachtmeister Mathias Bosshart of the Swiss Guard, was getting acquainted with the other security personnel.In comparison, those two had it easy. Both men were in their elements. Nicolé was a spook who pretended to be a diplomat for the Pope and was well acquainted with terms like 'deniable assets', 'plausible deniability' and your direct superior referring to requests concerning your identity/diplomatic status by saying 'I never heard of him and if I had, I have no idea what he was doing when you caught him doing what I don't know what he was doing', or something like that.Mathias was in the company of military-security specialists, brother professionals who were introducing him to his 'sister' professionals. Our Homeland Security gang were almost entirely former military by now. They got along with our JSOC folks and both had gained a limited acceptance with the Amazon security contingent.They bonded over the fact they were forced to work with really shady characters ~ the 9 Clans menagerie ~ who didn't always appreciate JIKIT operational security. Without going into particulars, the Wachtmeister was given the impression the abnormal was the norm and if you didn't think there was a 'down-side' to being able to carry your personally favorite bang-bang (the SG 552-2P Commando in his case) with some serious attachments (read: grenade launcher) around in downtown Manhattan, you probably didn't belong on this team.Back in the room,"He's not fighting for his life," Estere laughed. "He is fighting for mine.""Right," I responded sarcastically. We went through a flurry of exchanges, ending up with me kicking a chair at her. Estere stepped over it, colliding with me.I blocked her dagger, disarmed her scimitar and,"You are dead," she panted down at me, smiling. I was on my back, her straddling me. She had a belt-knife to my throat. I hadn't see her draw it. The scimitar 'disarm' had been a distraction."Woot!" I exhaled."But you're dead," Sister Rafaela misunderstood my good humor."He survived a minute and thirty-four seconds more today than his previous record," Estere responded. She slithered off of me, doing my arousal no good whatsoever, then offered me a hand up."And that's better?""He's a rank amateur with a few months on the job. I've been training to kill people for nearly two decades," Estere smiled. "Care to have a go?""With him, or you?""Either," Estere offered."I don't have a knife, or any hand weapons," she stated."We'll need to remedy that," Wiesława stated. "You should at least carry a knife.""Really? Why?""It is a nearly universal tool," I verbally stepped up. "Even if you are disarmed, you should be able to find one relatively easily, people are less likely to miss a stolen knife than a purloined gun, and a concealed blade could come in handy.""Do you train in knife-work?" Rafaela eye-balled me."Absolutely. It is part of my culture," I grinned."Okay. Can we spar, hand-to-hand?""Sure," I nodded. I put my tomahawks in their harnesses then put my harnesses aside. Estere gave me a wink before giving us the fighting space."So," Rafaela began to circle, "are you Christian?""By your definition, or mine?""By the definition of the Catholic Church."Oh cool, she went for a Savate stance. This was going to get ugly.My "no," was followed by her kick and my block, lunge and grapple. She wasn't nearly as good as Felix. I had her down and in a choke hold within fifteen seconds.Perhaps she thought I'd take it easy on her. She tapped out. I released her, retreated and flowed back to my boxing stance. It took her a moment to realize this was 'practice', not 'an interview'. She hadn't failed in anyone's eyes. We were both doing this to get better."See, I really, truly believe I have talked to supernatural entities ~ some who are considered divinities," I continued. This time she was more careful, trading jabs and blocks with me. "They don't claim to be the One True God. I believe in such a thing, but I also believe having been given the Message, Humanity has been left to muddle things out for ourselves."Whoops, she popped me one."The Woman-Thing this morning?""Yep," I evaded another flurry. She got cocky and I landed three blows, dropping her to the ground. I didn't help her up. Instead, I withdrew and let her get back up on her own before deciding if she wanted to continue. She did."I believe I've seen dragons and ghosts. I have felt legions of my ancestors give me quiet encouragement when I needed it. I know the dead have been brought back to life," I came at her. This time we both went for body blows, knees, elbows and fists. She was not SD-caliber and she needed to be. I grappled and she was forced to tap out again. After she regained her feet, she held up a hand for a pause."Do you believe any of that?" she addressed Estere."I am an adherent of Ismaili Islam yet nothing Cáel has encountered is contrary to my belief system. The Universe is a complex place and the Divine Light is often seen through a fractured lenses," she counseled the nun."Among the escapees were lawyer Francisco Luemba, Catholic Priest Raul Tati, economist Belchior Lanso Tati and former policeman Benjamin Fuca who are serving jail sentences of between three and six years each for supposed links to the rebel group FLEC (Frente para a Libertaé'o do Enclave de Cabinda), which carried out the attack on the Togolese football team at the start of the Africa Cup of Nations in January, 2010," Agent-86 read off yet another bit of global minutia."We need to get to them," I half turned. Sister Rafaela punched me in the gut and I folded up."Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry.""Okay," I mumbled. I had to keep with the plan. "Those men. We need to contact our Coils people in Kinshasa and the Warden of the Mountain Ways ('she' was the Amazon Host's leader of Africa ~ in the ancient times, the mountain ways had been the routes of southern vulnerability for the Amazon tribe thus the name).""Okay," both Agent-86 and Estere answered."Why?" 86 added."The Coils and the Host have had a serious problem with no nation in Africa giving them even back room recognition so we are going to take over our own country, Cabinda. It's been struggling to be free of Angola since 1975 and, by latest estimates, we've got strike elements of over 2,000 Amazons ready and waiting next door in Cameroon, Gabon and the Republic of Congo.""So you are going to go to war with Angola?" Estere frowned. "Don't we have enough enemies?""Au contraire," I grinned wickedly. "The resistance movement is genuine," I ticked off my points, "they have tons of offshore oil, and after we set off some spectacular explosions in the two main Angolan ports which are just down the coast, we allow global panic to bully the UN into intervening before the Angolan military launch an effective counter-offensive ~ considering the Angolan Armed Forces (I'd been reading up on a ton of CIA & MI-6 briefings) will most likely involve attrition warfare since they can't beat us in a stand-up fight.""They, the Angolans, have no overland access, they are separated by 60 kilometers of territory belonging to the Democratic Republic of Congo over some sad ass roads Plus the Congo River itself which is freaking huge by the time it gets that close to the Atlantic, Cabinda rests on the Atlantic Ocean by the way. No bridges. The Angolan Navy is anemic. Let me think."I began pacing."Hmm, they have no paratroopers though they have some Special Forces, we will need to hit as many of them in the barracks as we can. Their last invasion was from the north, overland, from the Republic of the Congo, in 1975, not likely to happen this time, though I may have my 'Brother' weasel up a battalion of Indian paratroopers to act as convincing peacekeepers after the initial take over.""Perhaps we can recruit some Vietnamese. I'm sure they'll love fighting in someone else's jungle for a change. We'll need some of 'our' guys to seize the port of Soyo, it is on the wrong side of the river, but has the major refinery the Cabindans will need. Since the entire surrounding province are the same ethnic make-up as the Cabindans, we'll have to take that too.""Man-o-man, I bet by the time this is over they'll really wish they'd given little Cabinda independence back in 1975. As for their other refinery, it is in their capital, Luanda, a few big explosions there too will get the markets jittery. Check that ~ the complete and utter destruction of their major petroleum facility will create a stampede for Peace," I continued. I walked over as our resident computer intelligence genius worked his magic."Blowing things up, you mean killing people," the nun blanched."Yes. This is what I do," I spared her a sympathetic glance. "I've got a madman roaming around in my head who provides me truly epic military advice which normally, but not always, means blowing shit up and killing folks. Welcome to the team," then as the data appeared, "Holy Shit! Did they build their oil refinery in the midst of their ghetto?" I was staggered. The refinery in Soyo was isolated from the town so it could be easily (and safely) seized. It was the one in Luanda which was the 'Holy Shit' site."It looks that way," Agent-86 agreed nonplussed. "Hmm, yeah, here is the port facility then your neighborhood of shoddily constructed one- and two-story dwellings between the refinery and the inland storage tanks, the perimeter barrier appears to be a chain link fence. I'd hate to be their Chief of Security.""Oh yeah," I choked. Estere slipped around to get a look."Whoops," she snorted."What are these people thinking?" I continued. "The whole shebang is exposed to the northern quarter of the city. The storage tanks have residential dwellings on all four sides with numerous side streets. Two teams with RPGs and four rounds apiece, Holy Crap. Sorry Sister.""But I want to save lives," she sputtered."Limiting the collateral damage could be pretty tough," Estere frowned. She toggled throw a series of maps to multiple pictures."Oh, look (dripping sarcasm); they light up the refinery at night. You can sit off the coast in a speed boat under cover of darkness and attack from there," she noted."Damn. Those are a lot of lights," Agent-86 agreed."24-7 operation," I suspected."We will need some experts," the government agent nodded."Or we are going to kill a fuck-load of innocent people. Not just the workers, but can you imagine a fire spreading to those neighborhoods? Shit," I muttered."You can't seriously be contemplating doing something like this," the nun sputtered. "It is inhumane. Think of the families, the children.""Lady, yes I am. Do you have any idea what the Human Rights record of the Angolan Army in Cabinda is? It is truly horrific and in case you missed it, one of the guys in dire need of rescuing by me, due to him being a huge rebel leader who has managed to escape, is also a Catholic priest. He's going to be part of the new government we are going to install once we kill a few hundred Angolans ~ mostly soldiers (more like well over a thousand).""We are going to kill a few hundred so a few hundred thousand can live free, democratic lives without worrying about the local police and political establishment torturing and murdering them. It is all part of the plan.""I think I need to talk with the Bishop.""Hang on. Let me finish," I forestalled her. "He'll get briefed along with everyone else. After all, it is a majority Roman Catholic country as is Angola, so I'm sure your guy can be of immense help.""The people you are putting at risk don't deserve this," she protested."They never do," I nodded in agreement with her. "It rarely stops terrible crap from happening to them though."I felt sorry for the Sister. She thought the Bishop was going to put a stop to this. Poor girl; he was going to do the exact opposite. See, the two competing forces at play here were a communistic kleptocracy (currently ruling Angola) and Catholic liberation theology united with a Cabindan national identity dating back to 1885. At stake was 900,000 barrels a day of petroleum. That was a bunch of funding for somebody. Last I checked, the state run energy conglomerate had misplaced $32 billion, in just three years.Mind you, the Coils of the Serpent and the Amazon Host didn't want to help the People of Cabinda out of the goodness of their hearts either. They wanted cover for the importation of weapons and other war-fighting material so they could kill the Condottieri in Africa. If the rebel leaders-turned-legitimate government didn't play ball well, the Coils were in the 'assassinating people' business and somewhere along the line the survivors would figure out keeping 'us' happy kept them alive. Problem solved.It was Bishop Nicolé de Santis' job to facilitate that understanding. If certain people with Vatican credentials explained the 'facts of life' to the new regime a lot more lives could be saved, Catholic lives. In turn, he could work to make sure the new group in power wasn't nearly as corrupt as the gang we were tossing out. Better education and quality of life, improved infrastructure & security and a nice shiny cathedral, or two.We, as in JIKIT and our component members, didn't want to rule the country and dominate the people's lives. We needed the ports and the airfields with a blind eye turned to our skullduggery. Sure, there would be future considerations. Amazons and Coil members would be fighting and dying for these people's freedom ~ public recognition definitely not required. No; the Amazons wanted to be left alone in their deep jungle homes which was an isolation they basically already had. This was a future chit which said 'don't come looking'.The Coils? Let's just say in the future Cabinda would have embassies around the globe and if occasionally they wanted someone to slip through under diplomatic cover ~ they were good for it. And if the Cabindans ever needed help in the future they knew they had friends in dark places who were now invested in Cabinda's survival. It was a win-win-win, unless you were an Angolan big-wig, or one of their foot-soldier currently serving in Cabinda. Amazons weren't big on taking prisoners, or even giving the opposition the option of giving up.For me, it wasn't lunch yet and here I was plotting to overthrow yet another government in yet another country ~ though in only two, small provinces this time. Thank the Goddess I had the rest of the week

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Odd Happenings{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab."Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose."Sibeal.""Imogen.""Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said."Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back."How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way."Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'."So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved."I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable."Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact."Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well."I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded."Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?""Come home with me," she suggested."No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland."No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you.""Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me.""We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you.""Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?""Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever."Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered."We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom."We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all."What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared."Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped."Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?""Yes," Deidre replied to Mom."Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind."The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa."So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat."Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?""Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well."No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again.""We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested."How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe.""Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin.""That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try."Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm."No reason," I lied."Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her.""No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff.""You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around."For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is.""That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest."Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch, with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive."Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?""It is a date then," I stumped her."You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions."Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy.""And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy."Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave.""And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile."I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience you will enjoy.""I don't know. I think I'd like that.""No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride."Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment."Yes. Will you be there?""Of course," she grumped."Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice."Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit.""But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice.""Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped."Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me."I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services.""Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?""Really?" she whispered."Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap.""I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled."I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed."Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"Pause."Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again."So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?""Hardy-har-har," I griped."Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan.""Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?""That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement."He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia.""I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled."He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery."In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'.""I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth."Correct.""None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued."This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong,"Ah Hell," I muttered.Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team."He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave.""I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?""The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet.""Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny."That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting.""How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered."Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom).""The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave."All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago."Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on."Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more."You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity."I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?""I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless.""So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired."Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought."Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality.""That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested."The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched.""Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick, their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get."Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity.""I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset."Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum)."The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution.""Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clear majority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?Real World Stuff: WarningsArticle 9:(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures, except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).(The Cornerstone) There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking, until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.Japan? Ha.Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d' tat, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World, worse was heading your way.The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse.It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what we can.'F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:The U.S.A: We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)Japan: Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.The U.N.: We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?The PRC: We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?Japan: What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.(Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right?Kawano: Which time?Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.Japan, {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.Awbee: What have you been doing?Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.AS: What!Yachi: Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.(Note from  Prime Minister to Self) Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something a

Vincent, Buffy and other family matter.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it The main front was stabilizing. The 2nd Army was in tough shape though all three divisions were still in the fight. The 1st Army's 2nd and 9th Divisions had corked up the advances out of Cambodia. As soon as night fell, they would maneuver the majority of the 2nd Division to crush the Alliance forces north of Bangkok. The rioters would be crushed tomorrow morning. They would survive.This realization came too late to them. The rot of fear had infected the 1st Army, 1st Division and the police force commands. Of more importance, a small group of secretive individuals convinced two senior Thai officers that something had to be done before the city fell, or the Prime Minister reasserted control over the city.Those two conspirators had the same problem as the Loyalists, enemy troops and protestors in the street. Those officers had no way to contact the crucial enemy commanders, but they knew who did, the Indian Navy. Surreptitiously, they contacted the Indian Navy's Expeditionary Fleet. The fleet's Admiral quickly put them in touch with the Alliance Command Authority and within two hours, a deal was made.The Great Khan would stop the Alliance offensive if the King of Thailand made a public appeal, no strings attached. This new group of rebels and the Alliance worked out the path they needed to take to reach the King so that the Alliance forces were out of the way and no planes, or helicopter attacked their formations. They even had a TV station that would broadcast the King's speech ending the conflict. All they needed was nightfall.And that was the true story of how the counter-coup was pulled off, how the King of Thailand was able to talk to the Great Khan and how the Thai government was overthrown. In the final analysis, the Loyalist hadn't fallen before the might of the Alliance. They were done in by a tiny number of Black Lotus operative almost no one knew existed, with a small amount of assistance from JIKIT."No wonder the Seven Pillars has never been able to wipe out these guys," Addison yawned. "They are slippery as eels and thrice as lethal. I am glad they are on our side." Several sets of eyes looked at her skeptically. "I mean, I am glad we are currently working toward the same goals."Thus,"I suggest we all get some sleep," Addison declared as she stood up and stretched.Odette was comfortably asleep, so I curled her up and carried her to the elevator. I wanted to go home and forget that I had lost any semblance of a normal life. I didn't know what was worse; me doing the shit I was doing, or me understanding what I was doing. Juanita had gone down ahead of us to pull the car around to the front.Chaz, Pamela, Odette and I went down in the first wave of the exodus from the workplace. The door opened on the ground floor. I wasn't the first person to notice her. My reflexes had improved to the point I had a moment to recognize her before the people around me sprang into action.Pamela side-stepped to the right, pistol mystically appearing in her two-hand grip. Chaz, Chaz bore Odette and me to the ground. His level of dedication astonished me. He was shielding us with his body. From what, I hadn't been able to determine."Deadman switch," one of my aunts stated. "I want to talk with Cáel." The voice had a stressed tenor to it."Back outside," Pamela simmered."No.""Chaz, what is going on?" I asked him. He hadn't moved and wasn't letting me wiggle around to see."Explosive vest," he responded coolly. That's right. Chaz was shielding Odette and me with his body.That is what I found astonishing, his desire to give his life for me. His expectation that Pamela could kill the threat while he was currently occupied was understandable."We seem to be at an impasse," Pamela edged further away.She wasn't avoiding the blast radius. That was impossible in this lobby. No, if it came to firing, she was making it easier for Chaz to get a shot off since the shooter couldn't cover both angles of attack."Let me talk to him," my aunt insisted. This made no sense."Chaz, let me deal with this," I told my bodyguard."Are you sure?" he questioned."Not really. As Pamela said, she's not going to let any of us leave until she talks to me and if you kill her, she kills all of you." Chaz let me stand.Odette was just awakening to the threat. Chaz rose to stand by my side. (Sadly, Odette didn't rate him dying for her.) I prayed I didn't fuck this up."Cáel, is that really you?" the women with green eyes and red hair asked me. She sounded desperate, which would explain the suicide vest."Yeah, which one are, Mom?"{9:10 pm, Tuesday, September 2nd ~ 6 Days to go}"Yes, I'm Sibeal. Are you my son?""Do you mean   No! Grandfather Cáel hasn't supplanted my spirit with his own," I took a deep breath. "I'm not sure how I can convince you of this.""Do you miss your Father?" she queried."Yes," I murmured."Ahh Cáel, you are still my son. Thank all that is divine," she sighed."Care to deactivate the vest now?" Pamela suggested."Do you promise not to shoot me? You two, and the one sneaking up on me from behind." She meant Juanita, who had sensed the danger and exited the car."You are three kinds of crazy, so I'm not making any guarantees," Pamela answered."Pamela   Chaz, I really think she is my mother. And I assume she is here to kill Cáel O'Shea, not me," I interjected. I still wasn't leaving Chaz' side. "Please don't kill her.""No guarantees," Chaz affirmed."She's his mother," Odette chimed in. "If it was anyone else, they would be in a cloud of bodyguards, not alone.""Here is the deal, Mom. You deactivate the vest, then we will talk. Otherwise, I'm taking my security's advice and backing the fuck out of here.""Okay," she nodded. "It's a fake. I'm upset, but not enough to be suicidal. I wanted to see what you would do. Father would have sacrificed everyone else. You got tackled and you obeyed the man who was trying to save your life.""Chaz, what do you think?" Pamela asked him."We could hold her here until Virginia shows up. That would give Cáel a few minutes to reminisce before she gets dragged off to the looney bin." (That would, of course, lead to her death while in Federal custody   so that wasn't happening, period.)"I concur," Pamela agreed. She still had her gun out and aimed. She went to a one-handed grip so she could motion Juanita to come inside.I took the opportunity to walk around Chaz, though I only advanced half way."I think it is asking too much from my bodyguards to walk up to you with that vest lying at your feet," I pointed. "You know   just in case you are lying." She nodded, smiled and came forward. A hug was in the offing. I almost missed Odette coming up behind me."I'm on a timetable," Mom murmured into my shoulder. "You know why.""I am afraid I do," (my pheromones were already affecting her). "What brought this on? How long can you stay?""The kidnapping made it imperative. But this has been my first opportunity to get close enough to you to determine if my father had won, or not," she confessed."I'm not sure how long I can remain ~ maybe a day, or three. I have heard you have an upcoming ordeal you must go through for your Amazons." Odette again by way of Delilah. I decided to give Delilah the benefit of the doubt and just accept that she did what she did because she was worried about me."Oh. Mom, this is Odette Sievert, my roommate and all-around better friend than I deserve." Odette extended her hand. Mom reached past me and shook it."Nice to finally meet you in person," Mom smiled."Nice to realize you aren't as nutty as the rest of the bunch,and considering you came at Pamela and Chaz with a fake suicide vest   that is saying something," Odette grinned."My son is all I have left of Ferko (my dad)," she grew grim. "If my father stole him after killing my husband   I wouldn't know how to carry on.""Aaahh," Odette stammered through this tense family moment. "You are about to be a grandmother in a serious way," she tried to turn things around. "How does a dozen grandkids sound?"Operational security and secret information were concepts Odette was aware of. She simply refused to use either one."Really?" Mom looked from Odette to me. "How serious?""How about we get out of here before the FBI shows up," I began directing my mom out the doors."Cáel?" Chaz questioned."Hey now, I never agreed to hand my mom over to Virginia. The vest was fake. Let's not dwell on this," I urged Mom and Odette out the door."Ishara," Juanita repeatedly prayed, "why do you test me so?"Chaz and Pamela showed their faith in me and my decision-making ability by tagging along. For me, what does a son who hasn't spent any time with his mother since he was seven (because she was supposedly dead for the past fifteen years) ask first?Actually, we waited for Chaz, who had the presence of mind to ensure the vest was truly a dud and then called Virginia so she could clean up one of my messes   yet again."Thank you, Color Sergeant," Mom looked toward Chaz as the GL 550 pulled away from One Mi Ma1 Tower. Unfortunately, the look he sent her way wasn't friendly."Thanks for reminding me," I nodded to Mom. "Chaz, what in the Hell possessed you to jump on Odette and me? I appreciate it,""Me too," Odette chimed in."But please don't do that ever again. Of all the, let's just say I have too many deaths of people I like on my mind. I don't want you added to that list.""Tough.""Well, thanks for considering my request," I groaned."Chaz, three nights ago our boy learned that one of the women he knocked up is going to die and no one will intervene to save her life and they won't tell him where she is," Pamela let him know."Who do we talk to?" he asked me. By 'talk' I assumed he meant torture until they coughed up a viable location/suspect."The Goddess Ishara.""Fuck. I apologize, Cáel. That is hard news for a young man like you to take. As for my jumping on you   suck it up. It is my job to make sure you can do yours.""Juanita," Pamela called out. "Stop driving to Havenstone. Take us back to Cáel's place. He won't let the Amazons take his mother, which means I won't let them, which means Chaz won't let them. Besides, Odette could get killed in the cross-fire and too many people like her for that to be safe for any would-be assassin.""Really?" Odette perked up. Of course she wasn't worried about being killed. Odette was fascinated that people found her valuable   enough to kill anyone who killed her. She'd more fully grasp that curse later on. She was a genuinely nice person. What Pamela left unsaid was that if 'people' thought someone might kill Odette, they would 'proactively' protect her. Too many people she now hung out with were of that stripe of crazy."Pamela, would you miss me if I got killed?" Odette turned to the most dangerous person in the car. (I didn't think Mom was in her league, but then I had never seen her fight, so I was keeping an open mind.)"You bet your ass, Baby-cakes," she grinned at my super-kind sidekick."Me too," Chaz added gruffly. "Of greater importance, Addison would take umbrage. Next to Ms. Love, she's the nastiest bitch I've ever met." He meant that as a compliment."Not Lady Yum   I meant Worthington-Burke?" I inquired."She doesn't take things personally. She'd miss Odette, but not enough to move off-mission," Chaz explained."Let's not forget Buffy," Pamela snorted. "What she lacks in experience she makes up for by being totally psychotic and fanatically loyal to Wakko here. People who piss him off tend to end up as a place holder on the Obituary page.""Unless they never find the bodies," Juanita commented   from her personal experience disposing of people for me. Groan."Cáel, I am so happy I met you," Odette hugged my arm. "My life was going nowhere before you gave me your phone number. Now, I know my life is at risk and I don't care. Being with you has been more wonderful than I ever thought possible."Mom was studying me, both pleased and worried."What?" I asked."You have a lot of your grandfather in you. He did have a gift for inspiring the best out of people. You are like your father in that you care for those people   caring for both their lives and their happiness. Your father inspired that same kind of loyalty because he kept the needs of his people in the forefront of his mind.""Dad was like Grandpa?" I worried."Hell no." That was Pamela."Thank the Divine, no," Mom exhaled at the same time. "How do you know my father?""I killed him," Pamela grinned."You were the one? I'm, I don't know what to think," Mom murmured."Keep that in mind before you try to pull another stunt like you did tonight," Pamela's grin grew feral."Pamela is the best Grandmother I could ever hope for," I explained."Spiritually speaking," Odette tried to lighten the mood (she was a cracker-jack morale officer). "Otherwise it would make Cáel's having sex with her granddaughters rather, suspect.""Odette, you can say 'incestuous'," Mom gave a half-grin. "Do you know much about my family?""Your Pa created you and your sisters to be fuck-toys who also ran errands for him," Odette nodded. "They are all loonies.""Don't share that view with them," Mom cautioned. "When we last met, they had a highly under-developed sense of humor and a well-cultivated mean streak.""Gotcha," Odette giggled. "After dealing with the Slayers of Testicles numbers 1 & 2, I have learned what kind of wacky girls Cáel attracts without even trying.""I really should make sure Mr. Fiennes is okay," I reminded myself."You would do better catching up with that girl down the hall. The Korean takeout girl also asked about you", offered Odette. Yeah, the girl in 3-F baked me some cookies when Dad was murdered."How many grandchildren are we talking about?" Mom looked at me with some serious maternal affection."Who are the Slayers of Testicles?" Juanita wanted to know. My family jewels belonged to House Ishara   at least in her and her sisters' estimation."Oneida's bodyguards," Odette let slip out before she saw the warning look in my eyes."You are sleeping with the apprentice of House Arinniti?" gasped Juanita   I was hoping her questioning wasn't hurting her driving. "What about the 84 day rule?""I'd better not bring up Rhada," Odette nodded thoughtfully."I'm going to spank you," I growled at Odette."Was that aimed at me?" Juanita."Yippee, and we are going home now, too!" Odette squealed."Not you, Juanita   Odette. I want to teach her how to 'not say' whatever pops up in her head," I grumbled."You promised to punish me!" she beamed brightly. "Punish me! Punish me!""Uuuuuuu," I beat my cranium against the headrest in front of me."I thought she was the 'nice' girl," Mom chided me."She was," Pamela smirked. "Unfortunately, she's been totally corrupted by your son.""Yep," Odette agreed. "He's opened up a whole new horizon of things sexual for me.""Son, how many women are you seeing? I thought you were engaged." Mom."Uuuuuuu," I repeated."I'll take care of this," Chaz intervened calmly. "He is as loyal as he can be   within the bounds of his limited moral arsenal   to Hana Sulkanen. So he is sexually and romantically involved with Brooke Lee and Libra Chalmers, civilians he met through contacts at Havenstone. There is Anais Saint-Armour, RCMP, who departed this weekend,""She'll be back," Pamela assured Mom. "They always come back at least once.""Who has only come back just once?" Chaz laconically questioned Pamela."Good point," Pamela acceded. "They keep coming back until he changes the locks, his phone number and address." That made no sense,"I am glad you two are my friends," I groused. "I'd hate to think what you would say about me if you hated me.""You're welcome," Pamela grinned."Ms. Marla Chalmers," Chaz continued without missing a beat, "Libra's younger sibling, who your son indubitably impressed while in college; three teachers at an exclusive school, he met them while body-guarding a group of children; an assistant manager of a hotel he stayed at; six attractive, college-educated European young women,""Don't forget the Macedonian!" Pamela interjected."I have removed her from the list because she has no reliable way to hunt down our boy," he explained."Good point," Pamela nodded."They like busting your chops, don't they?" Mom smiled."As opposed to physically busting my chops   this I can live with.""You have matured nicely. Your father would be very pleased   quietly, of course.""Thank you Mom." She knew the man better than I ever would."We won't count the 189 Amazons who have staked a claim to him for the next nine days," Chaz added."What! 189? When did that happen?""The thirty huntresses and the 159 members of House Ishara," Pamela clued me in."159? When did that happen?" I gasped again. I was repeating myself   not good. I knew I had told Buffy to 'keep up the good work', but still, House Ishara wasn't even two months old yet."They are the best of the roughly 20,000 Runners in the Host and thus, all are serious bad-ass bitches," Pamela assured me. "I think Helena would like you to explore a few more heroic Runners who have since passed.""Passed?" Mom."Cáel sees dead people," Odette beamed."So does his Aunt Baibre," Mom said."Met her, came off a bit, off," I confirmed."That's Baibre. What other ones have you met, besides Deidre and Brianna?"She was asking if I had met others outside of Delilah's watchful eye."Hmm, Imogen, Kelly and Matilda.""Okay. You haven't met the bad ones yet," Mom nodded. I was stunned yet again. Not by what Mom said, but by,"The 'bad ones'?" Pamela inquired. "They come in shades worse than Kelly and Matilda?""I'm with you on that. Those two were unsettling," Chaz agreed. Holy Shit! Pamela and Chaz were agreeing that two of my aunts had them worried on a tactical level. So 'not good' for me, since I couldn't take either of my friends. Bad-bad."Fiona is the worst. She is the second youngest of my generation and by far the most lethal. She was Father's pet.""Oh joy," I sighed."Is she bulletproof?" Chaz inquired."Not quite, but she is definitely hard to kill. She has a greater share of Alal while remaining sane.""Oh, she's the sane one?" Juanita joined in."On that side of his family, sane is a relative term." Thanks, Odette."Relative to how far your cock is into them?" Pamela snorted."Hold on now," I interrupted the jocularity. "What do you mean   'your generation'   'the second youngest'   what happened to the youngest   and when you say 'worst', define 'worst'."Pamela's phone rang."Father created three generations of daughters and sons. Carrig was the 'success' on the male side of the equation."Uncle Lumpy was the 'success'? What had the other uncles been like   idiot cyclops cannibals?"He destroyed all the rest.""Please clarify," Chaz studied my mother. "Your father murdered his own children?""Yes. All but one of the 36 sons. He kept Carrig around as a reminder to not create any more sons. The first generation of daughters were all 'failures'.""You mean dead?" Odette gulped."Yes   dead now, though he viewed all of us as property, not human beings.""Consider Grandad's low opinion of humanity, that's extra tragic," I put an arm around Odette. Pamela was muffling her conversation."Of the second generation of daughters, only Aunt Faoiltiama was kept around. I always had the impression her soul wasn't entirely human. She is rather primitive and predatory. A less horrifically unbalanced Carrig   physically that is. Carrig was somewhat more erudite.""Wow, I don't know what to think of that," I mumbled."Of my generation, eleven of us were allowed to live. Kelly and Maitilda are the most physically dangerous. That was their purpose   killing things.""Trained in combat styles by Cáel's grandfather?" Chaz looked, depressed."Yes. The four of us were. Fiona was the only one I couldn't best.""I would like to spar with you when it is convenient," Chaz requested."Okay. You deserve to know how bad it can be," she nodded. "Of the rest, Una was the youngest, the most human and humane. She was Father's final failure. I was never sure why he kept her alive.""For Cáel to rescue, of course," Odette insisted. Crap. She was right. By the horrified look on my Mother's face, she knew Odette was correct as well.Alal had let Una live as a contingency card, in case I was a soft-hearted sap. In hindsight, it was obvious. The innocent damsel trapped in a madhouse, at the mercy of her fiendish kinfolk, she was a perfect weapon to make me do stupider shit than normal."Damn," Mom muttered. "Anyway, Briana is the most willful and the family's representative to the Illuminati. Deidre is the most sedate, so she handles the normal business interests that we are allowed to know about. Darcie had Alal's hunger for lost and forbidden lore. In her case, it is all-consuming. She has memorized much of Father's collection.""She is rather good at it too   or was when I last saw her. Imogen is our tactician and oversees the O'Shea's bodyguard contingent. She has Father's ability to choose the best men and women, to train them to a razor's edge and to inspire fanatic loyalty.""Sadhbba: she is Father's spy master; with the exceptionally eerie talents of subterfuge, deceit and finding the weakness in others. She and I did not get along. Fiona could do it all, except for my talent.""Which is?" Chaz took over, since Pamela was waving me over for a close, quiet chat concerning her phone call."Fiona was an updated version of me. She was slightly better at everything I could do, except for one thing. I had Father's sixth sense about things. Fiona did not, and that was the reason she hated me so much. Father stoked our internal conflicts to keep us all on edge.""Good to know," Chaz understated his concern. "Do you have any intelligence on how, when and with what your father will come after our boy?" I wasn't insulted by the 'our boy' moniker. He wasn't calling me a child. He was telling Mom that I was 'one of the boys'   on his team. I felt all warm and tingly. My dearth of long-term male friends had meant I had never really been in a fraternity   the close brotherhood of men   before."Problem for you to deal with," Pamela handed me the phone. "It is Tabitha Loire." Tabitha? Vincent's   FBI Special Agent Vincent Lorie's   drop-dead gorgeous daughter. He had taken more than one bullet in Romania. I hadn't heard from him since that morning at the hospital, before being whisked away to the US via Germany. I remained a lousy friend."Hello? Who is this?" the weary, angry voice on the other end of the connection spoke."Cáel Nyilas. Tabitha Loire, what can I do for you?""What can you tell me about my Father?""Oh God! He is not dead, is he?" I grunted. Pause."No. No, Da is okay. He was released from the hospital a week ago. I would like to talk to you about what happened to him overseas.""He won't tell you?""No. Neither will his boss, or any of his acquaintances. Mr. Nyilas, he is down in the dumps and I want to know what I can do to help out. If you are his friend, you should help."I couldn't blame her for being both bitter and exasperated. She had run full tilt into the Great Wall of National Security and been stopped cold."How about I come down and talk to you?" I offered. "What I can tell you shouldn't go out over a phone and I have been remiss in not catching up with your father sooner.""Umm, when?""I'll take the next train down tonight," I decided. "We'll arrange some vehicles at the station. What is your address?" She hesitated. After all, she had Pamela's number, not mine and I was tied into her father being shot   badly. She gave me the address, her desire to know what happened overcoming her caution when dealing with strangers. "I'll give you a call when we arrive in Alexandria.""Train?" Juanita griped. Chaz pulled out his phone and called Agent-86 for both the next train from Penn Station to Alexandria and an update to Virginia and the Homeland Security people for clearance to bring along our ironmongery. Pamela looked at me with pride. So did Mom. Whatever Juanita's opinion of me was, it was concealed by her call to someone else   probably updating Buffy on my itinerary."Vincent was the Federal Agent who was wounded at Miercurea Ciuc?" asked Mom."I need to have a talk with Delilah," Pamela glowered."I want to be in the room when you do," Chaz agreed."Juanita   Penn Station and call someone at Executive Services to pick up our car. Long term parking there is a bitch," I related.Was it? I had no idea, but Alal apparently did. I had been to Penn Station three times; and I never had a vehicle that needed a parking space. All three times, Havenstone sent a car to pick me up. That was for my preliminary and final interviews, plus handling all the paperwork after I got the job.I'd left Bolingbrook in a U-Haul truck (without much in it) a week before starting work. I had an iron-clad belief I could find a place to live within that time span. That was all the time and money I had allotted to that endeavor. My budget had been tight, or so I believed.Unlike the other four chuckleheads who joined the New Directive, I hadn't received a signing bonus. Maybe I should have asked for one. Too late for that now."You taking your mother to meet Vincent?" Odette poked me. I looked from Pamela to Odette then back again.Sneaky-ass bitches. They were introducing my widowed Mother to a really nice, mature guy who was brave, a good father, a widower and all-around stand-up guy. He had a ready-made family, an oldest daughter my age. Beyond some physical similarities, Vincent was not much like Dad. Dad was a quiet, private man.By the nature of his job as a Field Agent, Vincent had to possess superior communication skills. Physically, they were nearly the same height, but Dad was broader in the shoulders. On the other hand, Vincent had both a warrior's spirit and the skills to back it up.But why Mom? Her life was more a disaster than mine, and mine was colossally fucked up."Don't get any ideas," Pamela put out there. Was she talking to me? "Chaz and I don't like you. Your father is a rat-bastard with a mind like a snake. We have no idea if you are yet another one his plots to get at Cáel."They were still taking her with us as we went to see Vincent in Virginia. Since this was going to be a quick trip   I had to be back at Havenstone at 6 a.m.   no clothing was necessary. Chaz received a call from Agent-86 with a follow-up call as we pulled up to the station. I didn't know the nature of the second call until we went to pick up our tickets for the 10:05 Northeast Regional.Waiting there was my old buddy and now sister, Wilma Draper/Ishara. I was at a loss why. It wasn't as if I needed more firepower than Juanita, Chaz and Pamela in the confined environment of a train."Wilma?""Hello Ish   Cáel," she smiled. She was emotionally pumped."What are you doing here?""Oh... Buffy told me that I was to be here on assignment to fulfill an Isharan obligation." This would be Wilma's first mission for House Ishara, no matter how brief and danger-free it might be. She was ecstatic.Huh? I couldn't recall any obligation I owed Buffy, or Vincent. Unlike every other Amazon House, things regularly happened without the Head of House's knowledge. Face facts: I was the least prepared leader the Host had ever had. I compensated by having hyper-competent underlings   the very best of the best Runners-turned-Full-blooded Amazons."Ah," Pamela nodded, sensing my loss of understanding, "A promise to provide Vincent a bodyguard was made in your presence. Being the highest ranking member of the Host present, and failing to pass on that knowledge, it falls to your House to answer that pledge.""Wilma, you are here to be Vincent Loire's bodyguard?""Only temporarily. The current state of affairs at HQ won't allow me to take more than three days leave. Your 'First' is seeking another appropriate Isharan for the task."I had totally dropped the ball.The initiative to bring JIKIT and the Amazons together was my creation. Katrina had approved it, yet it was my status as Chief Diplomat of the Host (as I had redefined that role,) that was responsible for that group, and thus Vincent. There was also another undercurrent to providing Vincent an Amazon bodyguard. I would be sending Vincent the message that he was still a valuable member of the team. His infirmity was simply a temporary difficulty.I gave Javiera a call. I suddenly needed to know Vincent's status with the FBI. A little past Philadelphia, she called back. Vincent was on long-term leave and, barring a positive physical assessment, he would never be going back into the field. They were making him a desk jockey for the rest of his career. That would be a heavy enough blow to the man to put him in the dumps.I made my view clear. As Unpaid Honcho Assigned to Unit L &  U HAUL, I wanted Vincent on my team   JIKIT's field team. I had plenty of lethal shooters. I needed a trained investigator and a veteran lawman to keep us aware of the niceties the world's legal systems wished to live by. I finished that off with a very regal "Make it so!" Javiera, my boss, hung up on me; though I thought I caught a laugh before the connection was cut."Pamela," Chaz turned to Pamela, "I am proud to call him 'brother'.""I think he is coming along nicely, Grandson Charles," Pamela preened. Wha- huh? My family had grown yet again. Grown yet again with people who were better than me."Does that make Aya your niece?" a sleepy Odette smiled."I guess it does," he nodded."Aya will love you," Pamela smiled."I hope Caitlyn loves him too," I smirked."A man could do worse than marrying an Amazon," Chaz blithely retorted. Less I forget, the Tomorrow Clan had its own long warrior tradition."Asking it to be three thousand years long is a bit too much," Pamela agreed with what I had not spoken aloud."On the plus side," I began."He's also getting several frisky sisters-in-law," Pamela finished. Hi-Five."Super Twin Powers Activate!" we proclaimed loudly.Fuck Ishara for taking Tad fi from me. I could be just like my Father. I could bleed off my pain with humor and look at my daughter with untainted love."When I grow up, I want to be just like you," Odette yawned. Which one of us she wanted to emulate wasn't clear.{Wounded, but not forgotten}{2:00 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}The tickets were one-way. Katrina was having a private jet come down at 4 a.m. to fetch me. We arrived in DC at 1:30. Two bleary-eyed State Department flunkies met us with an S U V and a sedan. We took the S U V ~ we had seven people ~ while they drove the sedan back so they could try to make something of the night that duty had destroyed.They looked curious about what this was all about and were a bit disappointed that no explanation was forthcoming from our crowd. We were polite, and I thanked them for their service. Being a decent human being doesn't cost you much and can pay serious dividends.The drive to Casa de Loire took thirty minutes. Juanita informed me the small airport I would be flying out of was a twenty minute drive, so I had roughly an hour and half with Vincent and his family. When we arrived, Juanita sent Wilma to make a 'walk-around' Vincent's home so she could get the lay of the land as well as keep an eye out for voyeurs.Pamela saved another series of frowns from Juanita by being the first person to the door. Tabitha had called her after all. Tabitha, Vincent's oldest and a Georgetown University senior, clearly didn't know what to make of us, and we weren't making it any easier for her by showing up on her stoop three hours after she had called Pamela.It wasn't going to get better. For starters, Juanita (and the not visible Wilma) had a MP-7A1. Ya know  military-grade weaponry. The door opened halfway. It was Gretchen Loire, the middle daughter."Hello. May I help you?" That wasn't her being uninformed about our imminent arrival. This was the child of an FBI agent allowing a stranger at her door to identify themselves instead of giving them a name to use."I'm Pamela Pile," my mentor answered. "This is Cáel Nyilas, my grandson. The gentleman to his left is my other grandson, Color Sergeant Chaz Tomorrow of the British military. To the left is Juanita Garza, my younger grandson's bodyguard   the one without a gun in his hand. The young lady in back is Odette Sievert, another one of your father's co-workers. The woman beside her is Sibeal Nyilas, Cáel's mother. Don't trust her   long story. A seventh member of our group is checking out your backyard. Her name is Wilma Draper.""You are heavily armed. Is my Da in trouble?""I want to talk to your father, if that is okay with you. I'll let Cáel answer your questions. He's our titular boss."'Thanks Pamela', I groaned inwardly.She was cute, exhausted and emotionally-vulnerable. Eager for answers and for someone to make sense of a world where her anchor   her father   had been nearly killed (not that his wounds had really been life-threatening). I hadn't had sex in over a day and that had only been a tension-breaker quickie with Odette.As we entered, it was obvious that Gretchen and her younger sister, Mariyah, had camped out in the front living room, catching some 'z's' on a recliner and a sofa with light blankets for covers. Mariyah was on the sofa, sitting up on her elbows and struggling to wake up.As Chaz shut the front door, Tabitha came down the stairs."Mr. Nyilas," she greeted me. Well, I was an infamous celebrity. I even had two Facebook pages (Nyilas Nailed Me! and Az  j Magyarorsz g kir lya (The New King of Hungary)) as well as four Instagram accounts devoted to me."Ms. Loire," I met her halfway and shook her hand."Call me Tabitha.""Call me Cabbage-Head," I grinned. That caught her off guard."Oh, kay, not what I expected." (I get that a lot) "We need to talk," she failed to stifle a grin."If you sleep with any of these girls, I will shoot you," Pamela warned me in Hittite."Excuse me?" Tabitha looked her way."Don't worry about it, Tabitha," Pamela gave her a congenial look. "I simply warned the boy that if he acted inappropriately, I would scar him.""Aren't you engaged?" she turned on me."Yes. Yes I am. Hana is a wonderful woman; beautiful, smart, with a big heart and a serious nature. Sadly for her, I'm a lousy human being, untrustworthy cad and perpetually prone to making bad decisions where women are concerned. Very bad decisions.""Miss, since my associate appears to be eminently capable of mangling the English language, let me help you clarify the situation: Cáel can't say 'no' where a woman is concerned. He can't even say, 'no, please don't hurt me', or 'no, not now. I'm talking to my date'.""Hi. I'm Odette. There are four sane people in this room and I'm one of them.""Says the woman who snuck aboard a transatlantic fight and hid in a place in the galley which you couldn't get out of," Pamela snorted."I got to go to Europe for free," she defiantly perked up. "Oh, and ladies," to the Lorie girls, "your father is a wonderful and brave male. (OK, too much time around the Amazons for her.) "He saved my life in Budapest.""He was in Budapest?" Gretchen."When?" Tabitha."Why?" Mariyah."We need to talk to Vincent  

Episode 2228 (RR) – Step into the time machine, folks—it's March 2014, and The Goin' Deep Show Episode 2228 (retro rewinding Episode 1219) is a booze-soaked, Bible-thumping, porn-obsessed riot. Kid A.G.'s pounding Sierra Nevada IPA, Don Tang's on Kroger Cola life support, Wally's phoning in from the mitten's tip, and G-Dub's mixing sweet tea vodka with Honey Jack like a redneck mixologist. They're tearing into a Creationist Museum clown blowing $73 million on a 500-foot ark—Kid's cackling at vegetarian lions, Wally's got Noah drunk and balls-out, and the whole crew's pitching an animated Anti-Bible series for kids. Blasphemy's the appetizer here. The main course? A reality show called Torture—starve Biggest Loser dropouts in grocery stores, strand AA vets in bars, and tempt newlyweds with lingerie models, all for betting pools on who cracks. But the dessert steals the show: Kid's stumbled onto a porn flick where a chick collects her roommate's jizz to freeze into an ice dildo, then slaps Brandi Love with it in a titty-smacking, faux-blowjob frenzy. The gang's jaws drop—part genius, part “what the fuck?” Toss in some Hillary Clinton hate (vagina = disqualified), spank bank droughts, and a “beer on boobies” Tumblr shoutout, and you've got GDS at its filthy, unhinged peak. Praise the lord and pass the lube. Listen in. Go Deep!  Original Release Date: March 11, 2014 - Episode 1219

The Invincible Season 3 final has landed and we have a LOT to talk about! In this episode we're breaking down every jaw-dropping moment what worked, what shocked us, and what left us screaming, “HOLY SH*T!”

The Lowest Moral Denominator.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Those who declare war are willing to kill as many as it takes to reach their goal.(The Lowest Moral Denominator)My first week at Havenstone, I'd biked to work alone on most days and I'd enjoyed that. I'd have treasure it more if I had glimpsed my future. I loved people, not crowds. I knew about violence, yet I had no affection for it. I was a confirmed bachelor. Now I was staring down both barrels of marriage. I had had also become a walking arsenal with a lethal omnipresent entourage.This situation was so fucked up that I had to stop by Caitlin's place just to see Aya. My favorite sprite gave me a hug and reminded me that I had to do what I could, not worry about what I couldn't do. She was my 9 year old Svengali. She was my little Valkyrie. In truth, she was the only woman knew I loved and that was the love of a father for his daughter.On the elevator ride up to the penthouse suite of the Midtown Hilton, I thought about Dad. What would Ferko Nyilas do in my shoes? It would be easy for someone who didn't know him to imagine my dad getting up on his high moral horse and telling me to just do the right thing, except that wasn't him. What he'd tell me was to not pass the buck. I had to deal with this, unless I knew someone else who could and would do it better.It wasn't about 'being a man'; it was being a member of the Human Race. We all pitched in and got the job done, or it didn't get done, and millions died because we refused to accept any responsibility for what was going on. That was my Dad, 'do what you can' and 'never be afraid to ask for help if you need it'. After the age of ten, he never told me I had to do anything. He'd tell me what needed to be done and leave it at that.So I wouldn't forget the pictures I knew I'd be seeing before too long, the innocent dead. If the sorrow broke me, it broke me. Until it did, I could not turn away. I had to 'do what I could'. That put me heading to a meeting at three o'clock in the afternoon in the penthouse suite.After my non-breakfast with Iskender, we had driven straight to Havenstone, where I demanded an immediate, private meeting with Katrina. This wasn't an info-dump and then out the door. No, I was part of the process now, one of those fools who were responsible for the lives of others. Katrina and I had argued about compartmentalizing my terrifying news.Her reasoning was clear. We were at war with the Seven Pillars. The basis of the 7P strength was China, so anything bad that happened to China was good for the Amazon Host. I nixed that. It was Katrina's job to think about our security. It was mine to juggle how we related to the rest of the planet. Absent the Golden Mare's opposition, Katrina couldn't stop me from doing my job as I saw fit.The Golden Mare was out of immediate contact, so we moved forward on my proposal. Katrina called Javiera, validated Vincent's call, and then suggested she bring in someone from the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID) at Ft. Detrick. Katrina wouldn't tell her why.I dispatched Delilah to talk to her MI-6 guy while I made my way to Nicole Lawless's law offices. I need to talk to my Aunts. An hour later, I dismissed a somewhat piqued Nicole from the room, then laid out the upcoming crisis to my Mom's clones. I hesitated a minute before dropping the other bomb, Grandpa Cáel was back.Was I sure? I countered with, "Do you know who Shammuramat was?"Why, yes they did; Grandpa had a bust of her in his main office."Well, she's back, in the flesh and that spells all kinds of problems".The six aunts present agreed. They invited me to fly to Europe with five of them. Much to their surprise and joy, I agreed. I told them I would be a party of twelve with plenty of firepower. They were less pleased about that.I exited that scene, only to engage in another, somewhat unrelated, bit of diplomacy. I met with Brooke and Libra for lunch. They brought Casper, who was seeing a specialist in New York and had expressed an interest in seeing me again. Into that volatile mix, I placed my request: 'Could Brooke put up a friend for a couple of weeks while I made other arrangements?'Yes, this was a 'bizarre' friend. Yes, this was a violently bizarre friend. Yes, she walked around with enough weaponry to scare a seasoned SWAT officer. And yes, she was a mass murderer. Cool,, if I agreed to stop by and see how this 'friend' was doing, and gave Libra advance notice too, then they were fine with it.Thus Shammuramat, Sakuniyas, Saku became Brooke's roommate. Insane? Not really. Putting Saku inside Havenstone on a regular basis was going to result in a blood bath. Saku was abrasive and she was a criminal in the minds of her 'sisters'. This gave her an 'out', some space and time with a civilized person who she couldn't emotionally bowl over.If Saku got physical with Brooke, we both understood that House Ishara was going to cancel her return performance. Amazons could defend themselves, so we were fair game for her rude behavior. Brooke couldn't, so she was hopefully out of bounds. Saku had agreed to the arrangement without comment.She'd already figured out that no other Amazons wanted her around and there simply wasn't room at my place. With that chore done, I was able to see Miyako off before her flight to Tokyo by way of Seattle. Selena was with her, but not going. Miyako did have three Amazons in case things got rough.The Marda House guard woman looked mature and humorless. Her age wasn't a problem. She was a grandmother, yet if she thought she couldn't keep up, she'd have taken herself to the cliffs before now. It turned out she had been in Executive Services before returning to House Marda. My diplomat, I didn't know her, but she seemed eager enough. The member of House Ishara was a brand new recruit named Jenna.She was from Acquisitions and spoke seven Asian languages, including Japanese. She looked absolutely thrilled to be heading off into danger. I instructed the younger two to obey the Mardan. In private, I 'advised' the Mardan that our main mission was to be of aid to the ninja. Information gathering would be secondary. More Amazons were on the way. She gave me a nod.For this critical mid-afternoon meeting at the Midtown Hilton, Wiesława lead the way off the elevator. Buffy went next, then me and finally Saku. Delilah and Vincent had already arrived with their appropriate factions. Katrina took a separate elevator, with Elsa and Desiree. Pamela was, somewhere. After she'd pointed out a half-dozen people from four different agencies in the lobby, she told me to not wait while she went to the bathroom.At the door of the Penthouse were two familiar faces from the NYPD, Nikita Kutuzov and her partner, Skylar Montero. When Javiera's investigation followed me to New York, they had been drafted into the taskforce."Hey ladies," I smiled. My last meeting with Nikita hadn't gone well."Cáel," Nikita smiled back. "How have you been?""More trouble than normal," I shook her hand."We can tell," Skylar relaxed somewhat. As Nikita's partner, she had to know that our relationship had soured when she started investigating me. Katrina's group came up."I think you are the last to arrive," Nikita informed us. This time, Desiree was the first one through the door. I could hear the conversation trail off. Wiesława went next, then Katrina, me, Buffy, Saku and finally Elsa. I decided to toss 'civilized' behavior out the window seconds after entering. Virginia Maddox of the FBI, the initiator of the Amazon children's airlift, was here.I hugged her and after a moment, she hugged me back."Priya says hey and," she blushed slightly, "she's counting the days, all forty-five of them.""Don't forget, I owe you," I grinned then patted her shoulder. Javiera was next."Cáel," she headed my familiarity off. She was a Federal Prosecutor after all."This is the head of this taskforce, Jonas Baker (deep breath) Associate Deputy Undersecretary of Analysis for Homeland Security {ADUAHS} (deep breath)." I extended my hand, so he shook it. He looked somewhat annoyed by this whole encounter. Javiera was duly nervous because of his poor initial attitude. The introductions went around.Half way through it, Pamela showed up, from where, I didn't know. Delilah, her MI-6 boss and the British professional killer Chaz were there, much to the chagrin of the Americans. Vincent was there with Javiera. Cresky was representing the CIA plus there was ATF, ICE, Riki Martin (?) from the State Department and a man in a civil servant's salary suit and a military demeanor, Captain Moe Mistriano."Fine," Mr. Baker began. "I hope you aren't wasting our time." His gaze flicked between Katrina and me."May the Blessed Isis bring understanding to our meeting," I intoned, in old Egyptian."What was that?" Baker turned on me."Praying for guidance," I replied. Isis wasn't in the Amazon pantheon, but I could sure use her help at this point. Baker was going from put-out to pissed-off. If that is how they wanted to play it, their choice. "Are you the specialist from Ft. Detrick?" I asked the Captain."Yes, I am and I hope this is worth my time as well," he gave me a steady gaze. Oh, I really needed that."Anthrax, China," I stated and weighed his response. Oh yeah, I had his attention now, which meant his bio-warfare unit had some idea about what was happening in China."Care to enlighten me?" Baker inquired. He had gauged his medical expert's reactions as well and he didn't like what the biological warfare specialist was not saying."Mr. Baker," the Captain decided to go first. "Roughly fifty-five hours ago, we got wind that there was a massive Anthrax outbreak in Western China. Xinjiang, Qinghai, Gansu, Ningxia and Nei Mongol administrative regions have all reported outbreaks."Holy Shit!" Riki Martin gasped. Her dark, whip-like, Hispanic features noticeably paled."That sounds suspiciously like bio-terrorism," Jonas Baker turned on me."You'd be right about that," I refused to evade. "It is and it is about to get a whole lot worse.""The PRC has a robust vaccine program," the Captain stated. "That is why they aren't making a public stink about it. They have the problem well under control.""Damn, " I closed my eyes and lowered my head. In some deep section of my mind, I had fanned the feeble flames of hope that somehow, the Earth  and  Sky program had derailed. "That is the 'whole lot worse' I was talking about. The terrorists aren't terrorists. They, ""What do you mean they are not terrorists," Baker snapped. "They, ""Shut up and let the man speak," Katrina said calmly."Who are you again?" he glared at Katrina. "If you aren't part of the solution, you are part of the problem and I'm here to make sure this problem is dealt with. I am not here to play footsie with you. I am going to be asking some tough questions and you had better answer them.""I'm Cáel's boss," Katrina smiled. "Since we came here to help you and you don't want to let us speak, we are leaving. Cáel."The Amazons didn't turn and leave. No, we backed up toward the door."You can't start talking about an ongoing terrorist threat and then walk out the door," Baker argued."Javiera, I apologize," I looked her way. "Mr. Baker, Javiera's a smart cookie. I'm sure she's given you every bit of information that has come across her desk. That means you know we consider ourselves an independent nation-state without borders. You can't intimidate us. We feel no obligation to obey your legal system and we operate internationally," I kept going."Now, as we are trying to repay Javiera's kindness in our time of need, you are treating us like criminals currying favors. Blow it out your ass, you pompous bureaucrat" I concluded. "We aren't the problem here.""If that's the way you want it," he shrugged. "Javiera, arrest them." Pause."Sir, you do realize that if I give that order, there is a good likelihood they will resist with force?" Javiera replied calmly. Baker looked around the room."We outnumber them and these are law enforcement officers," he insisted. "Now, ""I wouldn't count on that 'outnumbered' thing," Delilah chimed in.Chaz and MI-6 dude didn't seem to be onboard with his plan. "I have reason to believe Cáel has information on a highly virulent weaponized Anthrax program. If our US allies aren't interested, Her Majesty's government certainly will be." That did interest the MI-6 senior officer."That is all the more reason to put these people into federal custody," Baker stated."Then what, Mr. Associate Deputy?" Chaz said. "Are you going to torture them for time sensitive data? In my military service, I've met some truly hard characters. Some people you can put a gun to their child's head and they'll tell you what you want to know. Not this group. They'll memorize your face and wait for a chance to make you pay, whether you kill the kid, or not.""That's my read on them as well," Agent Vincent Loire added."Mr. Baker, I worked under you when we were both in Counter-terrorism," Virginia spoke up. "I think you are mishandling this. Invoke the Patriot Act and all we get is a roomful of statues. I've fought beside these, Amazons and I'm reaffirming my report to Ms. Castello (Javiera), they do not believe their behavior is wrong.At some point in their fifties, they commit ritual suicide. They make their twelve year old daughters fight for their lives. They murder their male infants. Sir, they are an alien society, indoctrinated at birth to believe they are spiritual inheritors of the ancient Amazons mentioned by Homer during the time of the Iliad.They fanatically believe in a pantheon of goddesses and possess very little inclination for integration. They think they are superior to everyone in this room, except for Cáel, he's an oddity," Virginia pleaded."That legion of crimes is yet another reason to arrest them," Baker just wouldn't give up."What you have described, Agent Maddox is a right wing nut cult, like the Branch-Davidians at Waco. Arrest them.""What are the charges?" Javiera's face blanked out."Conspiracy to commit terrorist acts; aiding and abetting an international terrorist organization," Baker snapped."Everyone, put down your firearms and blades," Katrina ordered. I didn't have the status to give that order except to my own. For that matter,"Team, disarm," Elsa commanded her Security Detail people. Technically, Katrina couldn't order those girls to forego their primary mission, defend the Host. Out came the guns.The group of us went over to one wall, put our backs to it and sat down. Pro forma, Virginia, Vincent and the ATF guy drew their firearms. By this time, both Riki and the Captain looked ready to explode."Tell us what you know about this terrorist conspiracy and, " Baker said."We invoke our Right to Council," I raised my hand."You are being charged under the Patriot Act, smart-ass," Baker sneered. "We can hold you indefinitely if we can show a risk to National Security, such as a terrorist attack in China.""I apologize for dragging you into this," I turned to Katrina. "You too, Saku." Saku shrugged."I told you there is no benefit in helping 'these people'," Katrina comforted me. She meant non-Amazons and it was rather sad that it was looking like she was right and I was wrong."Unless you want to grow old and grey in Guantanamo, I suggest you start talking now," Baker threatened.There was no bravado on our part. We didn't zone out, or ignore him. We looked at him the same way we would a yappy dog while continuing to scan the room. Being disarmed didn't make us defenseless. It merely limited our options."Sir," Riki tapped Baker."If the People's Republic of China finds out we withheld details of a terrorist attack on their soil, that would be BAD, with a capital 'B'.""I have to call this in," the Captain shook his head."Wait until we have active intelligence," Baker said. The Captain completed his call."I don't work for you, Sir. I work for the Department of Defense and that man," the Captain pointed at me, "strung two words together he shouldn't have. Now, I don't know any of you people. I was told to come here, so here I am. I do know, Sir, that you are ignoring the advice from your experts about the expected results of standard interrogation techniques.You are acting on two assumptions which I find to be fictitious," the Captain was clearly furious. "First, you seem to think this won't get out, and you are wrong. Why? We have no idea who these people have talked with. We can only believe that any person outside of their organization can use that revelation for their own ends. Secondly, you haven't grasped the extent of the emergency.Chinese citizens are already starting to drop dead as we speak. This variant of Anthrax is highly contagious, fast-acting, and appears to be incredibly fatal. No nation on Earth has enough Anthrax vaccine on hand to protect their entire population, and that still implies that the vaccines we currently have will work on this new bacteria. Need I go on?"Then Captain Mistriano went back to talking softly with his companions back at Ft. Detrick. The MI-6 chief made his own call. This was his job after all. Before Baker could even start to threaten the Brit, Delilah and Chaz had their guns out, though pointed down. The US law enforcement operatives were far more leery of challenging agents of a friendly foreign power."I will make sure to tack on charges for all those deaths you are facilitating," Baker piled it on. "The US government might find it necessary to send you to the People's Republic of China to face charges there. After all, you claim to not be US citizens." None of us responded verbally. We looked at him. We certainly heard him speak, but his '

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Taliyah.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. By lunchtime, she was beginning to feel somewhat selfish. Mikhail had been attentive with a totally unexpected devotion all morning long. While Taliyah was emotionally conflicted about her parent's most recent feuding, it was systematic of a much deeper rift she'd always felt among them. She'd always sensed it; as if something was missing in their lives.To be honest with herself, at first she'd been secretly pleased when Brandy's home life had imploded last summer. Not only had she found herself lusting for Darius over Rashaan, she'd long been envious of the seeming closeness between Big Bob and Jodi May. She'd felt furtive elation when Brandy's mom eloped with Senior Deputy Jenks, shattering the illusion of their happy household.Only later, as she saw the daily sadness in Big Bob, had she begun to regret her envy-driven vindictiveness. Unlike her own, rather distant Father, Big Bob Carson had always made Taliyah welcome in his home and with his daughter. His treatment of her had never jibed with the claims about the White man's supposed racism. In her home, they joked about him, yet she'd never heard Big Bob make a single racist slur in her presence.No, Brandy's Dad had treated her like his second daughter; even going so far to call out Brandy when she was being a bitch to her. As far back as elementary school, he'd made her feel as if Taliyah had a second house to call home; and then Taliyah had repaid his repeated kindness by taking perverse pleasure as his home fell apart. She'd watched Brandy fall into depravity under Darius' spell and said nothing.Taliyah wondered about the vagaries of karma. Brandy's family had been ripped apart and now so was hers. Brandy had found Vlad and now she had Mikhail. This morning, Brandy's mom had come back; and her Mom was here as well. But her Father was nowhere in evidence. Her Mother, Madam Mayor, hadn't mentioned him once.‘Taliyah,' Kaelyne disturbed her ruminations, ‘we're picking sides for volleyball.'Kaelyne was another transformative presence who had snuck into her life as of late. Her knee-jerk reaction when learning the little White girl had a lesbian crush on her was to lash out and mock her. That had infuriated Mrs. Samsonov, pain had rapidly followed. That old White bitch had forced Taliyah to apologize the next day.Over the rest of the following week Taliyah had found herself studying the way Kaelyne looked at her; and hadn't been repulsed. Still, until today she hadn't taken the lesbian's affections seriously. Kaelyne was sensitive to Taliyah's pain and~ compassionate without being obtrusive. Taliyah had responded with a lessening of her often acidic wit.With Brandy taking on solo duties as hostess, Taliyah had been able to recoup in the company of her boyfriend; and 'girlfriend'; thus the source of her guilt. According to Mrs. Samsonov's plan, Brandy and Taliyah had to share their guys with the rest of the Cheer Squad over the course of the day.From what they'd been told, it would keep the cheerleaders firmly out of the hands of the Football Team and other member of the 'Cult of the BBC'; as that racist, psychotic bitch, Gayle Samsonov, called it. And, from what Taliyah and Brandy could see, it made all the ones who had been with their fellas so far want them and only them; it was spooky and somewhat frustrating to watch because Mikhail was her man, damn it!Not in the way Rashaan had been her man because Rashaan hadn't even been his own man, just another pawn of Darius Pope's little high school empire; like her and Brandy. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to the youngest triplet's fierce independence. He was harder to influence than Rashaan had been; which wasn't quite so.She could, in private, convince Rashaan to do things, plan things and stand up for himself, but all the results of her efforts evaporated when he was around Darius; and now she realized that would always be the case for someone like Rashaan. He was good looking and could project leadership, but there was never anything behind it. No drive. No great willpower to overcome any real opposition; and most likely, there never would be.With Mikhail; God! He was so different. Sure he was infuriating, but Taliyah found herself able to cut loose around him; to pop him one when she felt he was doing something stupid; and it wasn't as if he even minded. Oh no, that didn't mean he'd acquiesce, far from it. Normally he'd laugh and evade, taunting her. Yet, that was the way he'd grown up around his brothers and Taliyah was beginning to figure out he was allowing her to treat him the same way; that was was something special.He and his brothers were rough-n-tumble. They had a code for their fighting. While their Code didn't make the inevitable conflicts any less brutal, it at the same time expressed ample fair play, honesty and integrity. And afterwards; there was never any ill will between them. They fought and shit got settled; and Taliyah liked that. That Mikhail allowed her to lay into him was, according to his Mamma, very intimate and personal; and Taliyah was coming to appreciate this fact.‘Mikhail, why don't you and Kaelyne teach my 'Sisters' on the Cheer Squad some manners,' she touched his hand. They were side by side at the counter in the kitchen, him finishing off a few carrot slices while she drank some Gatorade. ‘I need to talk to my Mamma; alone.' Mikhail gave her a brief eye contact, nodded once, and then turned to leave.‘Kaelyne,' she found herself reaching out, stroking the girl's cheek and rubbing her earlobe, ‘Thank you.' The way the smaller woman positively glowed gave Taliyah a spike of pride. She still didn't think she was into girls, but she'd been showering with Brandy since before they were teenagers. A few times Brandy had ran her hands curiously over her darker friend's skin, wishing she tanned so well.In turn, Taliyah had run her hands through Brandy's long, blonde hair, feeling the difference between its silky texture and her own, coarser locks and wishing her hair was so easy to manage. The two girls, lifelong friends, had never considered their behavior anything which 'made them gay'. They were curious and comfortable in each other's presence was all.Taliyah pushed herself away from the counter, turned and dismounted her stool. She'd put up a wall against the World all morning long and she knew she was better than that. She'd wanted her Mother to come and talk to her; to talk to her about her Father; her Mother's husband; and what she was going to do about fixing things. Her Mamma was always the responsible one in the family and had taught her daughter to be the same way. Somehow; her Mamma had to make this right.Le ‘Pearl' Yates.For Le it had been a wild, chaotic week. Things had started out so bad, but not in a way the other girls in the Cheer Squad would have understood. Monday morning, like most of the others; except Brandy and Taliyah; she had been seriously jonesing for some BBC. Hell, unlike every other member of the squad, getting the best cock was why she'd fought so hard to be selected as one of the school's elite bitches in the first place.She hadn't always been that way.Le had been a late bloomer. Worse, she'd never been part of any crowd while growing up. Her Vietnamese-American Mother had come to Kingston from the Texas Gulf Coast to be a nurse. Her Father, the White guy her Mother married, was an oilman working in the Gulf of Mexico months at the time.He was really happy when his wife told him she was pregnant. His company even flew him to Arkansas when she went into delivery early. Let's just say his reaction when he held 'his' daughter wasn't all that joyous. He divorced her a year later and Le had only seen him a few times since. Things had been; tense.It took her a few years to figure out she wasn't like anyone else. Her Mother's extended family, fisher-folk back in Texas, always treated her badly and the younger ones called her names, which was why her Mom had returned to Kingston after a few years. When she was six, she finally figured out she was a 'half-breed' and not in a 'good way'. No White blood had 'watered' down her complexion.Her eyes were product of her Mother's Vietnamese heritage while her nose was from West Africa. He skin was darker than her Mother's, not lighter, and she was much taller, at 5'9', and a compact 112 lbs. Her ass was 'black enough', but her chest was 'too Asian' as in she clearly had the smallest bra size on the team.At the age of eight she'd finally asked her rather traditional Mother who her 'real' Daddy was. On her twelfth birthday, her Mother, after years of badgering, finally broke down and told Le the story. She'd been 'seduced' by a groundsman on the A S U Kingston campus while her 'White' Daddy had been away for months and months at sea. He'd been a smooth operator, her Mother told her.'But why isn't that man my Father now?' she'd pressed her Mother. She'd graduated to referring to the nebulous sperm donor as Father when she was ten. Her Mother hung her head in shame then confessed the Black bastard hadn't wanted her. When she'd told him she was pregnant with what was most likely his child, he'd seemed happy at first.Only as she got 'bigger', things had changed. One day she stumbled upon him cheating with another nursing student. She'd exploded in tears. After the 'new' girl had fled, he 'confessed' he had yet another girl pregnant and two other kids by two other women; and it was over between them. He dumped her.So, her Mother had prayed somehow Le would be born without her White Father figuring out her betrayal; but that hadn't worked out either. She even gave Le the sperm donor's name, Claude Sexton. It turned out Le had sixteen half-brothers and –sisters (by five different women) and he was currently serving time in prison for pharmaceutical theft. Claude's Mamma, her Granny, claimed he was 'not guilty' and some jealous bitch (usually White in her rantings) had set him up;What had fascinated Le though was the 'why' of her Mother's betrayal of her White 'Father'. The few times she'd met him he'd seemed nice. He had remarried, still made good money and had two other, White, children these days. He had never been cruel to her Mother as far as her Mother had ever revealed; so why had she jumped on some Black cock and risked such a profitable union?At the age of twelve, Le was still gangly and under-developed. Puberty was late to the party. Shortly after her Mom's revelation, she began looking at the Black boys at school differently. They were still going from the phase of teasing and bullying girls (and being teased and bullied by some of the bigger girls) to sending the ladies looks of hungry confusion.No guys ever looked at Le that way back then; but suddenly she wanted them to. When she entered High School, she was 'introduced' to the Cheer Squad / Football Team dynamic. All the hottest Black guys and most beautiful girls (Black and White) belonged to that top social tier; and she had no hope of getting in the way she was.She also had another niggling problem. She was smart and unfortunately, smart girls were Not what those two groups were looking for.But, Le had a Plan. First off, she took up a paper route to make enough money to join the Dance School; because the Cheerleaders always seemed to pick the Hot girls with dance experience; and her Mother couldn't afford to send her with what she made.Secondly, she began purposely getting 25 to 35% of all her homework and test answers wrong. Le had to lower her academic profile starting her freshman year so hopefully no one would remember how smart she had been in Middle School. She added to this deception by telling everyone her name was 'Pearl', even the teachers, and always wearing long pig tails because she thought it fed into the ‘Cutesy' Asian stereotype; and they bought it.Lastly, she began working on her physique and fashion sense to make herself more noticeable to the people who really mattered. Her body's natural development helped. Belatedly her hormones kicked in and her breast began to get bigger. Of equal importance, with all her exercise and dedication her 'lower chasse' began getting the boy's notice. When their eyes finally got to her face, they also noticed how exotically different she was.She enjoyed the first touching; and kissing. She also knew the unspoken rules: Don't be a skank and put out for just anybody. The Football Team only selected the most choice ladies and that included the ones they didn't consider 'total whores'; thus their exclusive property.She lucked out by having Randi Leigh Upshaw befriend her. Randi Leigh's mother had been a cheerleader back in the day and was currently a school booster and member of the PTA. Sure, Randi Leigh was a condescending, manipulative bitch, but she opened doors into social circles which would have been far harder to breach as an outsider.And all that degradation and hard work had paid off when the old Cheer Squad Team Captain handed her a cheer uniform, welcomed her to the team and then introduced her to her first gang-bang. Five long hours afterwards, the smiling Captain gave her a 'Morning After' pill and told her were to go to get her I U D. She'd been taking BBC five / six times a week ever since and loving it; her Mother's infidelity finally understood.Until, for some bizarre reason, Brandy and Taliyah, this year's Co-Captains, had decided to launch an utterly unlooked for and unwanted rebellion against Darius Pope; Football God and one of the best cocks on the team. Le had been blind-sided, as had all of the other cheerleaders. The only two questions were how much hell was Darius going to put those two through for their impertinence and who would end up in the top spot once he was done.But then Darius and six other footballers (including two of the other best cocks in Le's estimation) were destroyed in the school parking lot after a game. Her whole world appeared to crumble and changed. Randi Leigh; idiotically; threw herself at Rashaan as if he could somehow assume Darius' mantle. Le initially supported her because at least Randi Leigh promised a return to the glorious days of orgies and bukkake cum baths.Wednesday morning, it hadn't taken a telepath, or that guy from Psych, to figure out something serious had happened to both Randi Leigh and Sultana (the other challenger). Randi Leigh couldn't even keep Betty Jo Sterling (her other supporter) in line and poor Betty Jo was easily amused by a laser pointer and kitten emojis for God's sake!All that led to her being highly suspicious of Taliyah luring her, Vantrice Kirby and Mia Ryker to the Music Room during Lunch Thursday. Taliyah had told them the whole team was meeting yet when Le surreptitiously checked her iPhone App, only Brandy's phone was close by. She was actually kind of terrified some sort of beat-down was in the offing when they stumbled in and found;; Mikhail and Vlad Samsonov reclining on the piano cover with a sexual sated; no, devastated, Brandy Crystal Carson curled up between them. Le knew what 'fucked stupid' looked like and Brandy definitely qualified. Vantrice and Mia began protesting (these 'boys' weren't on the Football Team). Le was busy putting 'A' together with 'B' then 'C'.In this case: (A) Brandy and Taliyah's sudden defiance, (B) Randi Leigh and Sultana's sudden cessation of (serious) resistance and now (C) Brandy's obvious physical pleasure radiating out for all to see. Le's ever-present blow-pop nearly fell out of her mouth in shock. Whatever her other two teammates (Vantrice and Mia) were thinking, Le knew she had to have 'some of that'.‘Which one is for me?' she had turned to Taliyah, her carefully crafted 'silly little Asian girl' façade momentarily slipping. Taliyah grinned like the sly fox she thought she was.‘Mikhail is mine, but I can share,' she purred as she began to strip. Even as she joined Taliyah in removing her clothing, Le did her own eyeball math. Mikhail was definitely more intrigued with Vantrice than either her, or Mia.How did she know the difference between the two triplets? Well, anyone who thought it was Mikhail beaten up by Darius' people, not Alexander, was a fool. Darius wouldn't have made that error. Otherwise, Mikhail was looking at them like a starving wolf staring at pieces of meat; or sheep. Vlad's eyes kept flickering down to Brandy in something a less romantic person could confuse with love. She headed toward Vlad.‘Can you make me happy like Brandy?' Le sashayed toward the middle triplet, socially shedding 60 IQ points along the way. Boys liked them dumb, right?‘Le,' he smiled; not leered, ‘I think I can make you your own kind of happy,' he volleyed back. Okay, that second part was kind of sappy, but he actually recalled her real first name which hadn't happened in over a year.‘Pearl, stop that,' Vantrice got indignant. ‘These White boys; ‘‘I want to look like Brandy,' Le looked over her shoulder. ‘Don't you?'Vantrice stuttered, Mia was indecisive, Taliyah clearly wasn't going to let them bolt without a struggle and Mikhail was closing in to help.‘Sorry Mia, but I have a hunger for Black chicks,' he moved the blonde aside.‘What?' from Mia.‘Huh?' from Vantrice and;‘Best watch yourself, Mister,' from Taliyah, all aimed at Mikhail. Le opted to focus on Vlad who was certainly fixated on her.‘I want to taste,' she settled down beside him, reaching for his delicious looking piece of man-meat.‘How about we '69'?' he offered.‘I like the way you think,' she glowed. Normally they didn't give her the option. Le put her blow-pop on a desk then went to work.‘Eep!' she squeaked as he effortlessly picked her up and laid her out beside Brandy. He took a few licks of her vulva then;‘Mia, come over here,' he beckoned the blonde girl who seemed to be at loose ends. Le was too busy exploring the texture and taste of his glans and shaft. It was her first White cock; she'd had thicker; yet she felt it would be more than enough to satisfy if Vlad's stamina equaled his dimensions;‘Lay down beside her,' Vlad had directed Mia. She still seemed uncertain and Le wanted to keep Vlad happy for the nonce, so she reached up, took Mia by the hand and gently pulled her to her side.‘Ah; ‘ Mia began purring. Vlad must have been physically stimulating her with his right hand even as his mouth and left hand pleasured her. Damn; Vlad knew his stuff.The real magic began when, after she let him know she was ready; which had always been the reason for guys going down on her, to get her engine running; Vlad had gone to town on her cunt. He licked, tongue-twirled and nibbled her clit, put three fingers into her snatch and, after some teasing, another in her ass. She'd never had a guy pet her G-spot before, but Vlad did.Her inarticulate utterances weren't new, but more protracted than she was used to. She recovered quickly, yet not quickly enough to stop her new lover from moving on to Mia who gladly let him go down on her as well. Le had propped herself up and begun to look around when she noticed a reclining Brandy studying the three of them.‘That felt nice, really nice,' she communicated after a few seconds.‘Don't I know it,' Brandy sighed. She didn't seem to be unhappy with her, or Vlad. There was a pregnant pause as Vlad continued to devote himself to Mia's gratification. ‘All three triplets are wonderful, but I think I've got the best one.'‘Are we ever going to be with the Football Team again?' Le'd wondered.‘Hmmm; ‘ Brandy frowned then, ‘Vlad, Pearl isn't convinced.'And then he'd gone and 'convinced' her, which had been odd. For a moment, when he returned to her, he'd seemed distracted, or put out. Once he made eye contact, Le felt as if their whole world contracted down to just the two of them.Or that was how it had been recalled by Le later as she tried to remember every erotic murmur, sensuous movement, whispered word and tantalizing slap of flesh against flesh. They hadn't fucked. They had made love and until Vlad, she hadn't know the difference. It was sex; but with the difference being she felt he really gave a damn, and not only about how she felt right then, but how she felt, period. It had been so different; and exciting; and so worth repeating.Which brought her back to today, at Brandy's house, playing around the pool and trying not to pull Vlad aside for another round of whatever he had done to her. Le had been trying to figure out this new pecking order and how to best profit from it. She wasn't so egotistical she thought she could steal Vlad away from Brandy; she accepted Brandy had more of the feminine traits which drew Vlad's eyes.Then there was the ravenous way Randi Leigh regarded the young man when she thought Brandy wasn't keeping an eye on her. The way Betty Jo and Alondra teased him was even;‘You spend a whole bunch of time watching what other people are doing,' was whispered into her ear. Le nearly tumbled off the recliner she'd been using.She was able to catch her blow-pop before it fell out of her mouth with judicious use of her lips thus buying her a little more time and stopping her from gasping in fear. Mrs. Samsonov had snuck up on her.‘Ma; Ma; Mrs. Samsonov? Huh?' she was a bit too slow on the comeback.‘You can call me Gayle,' the crouched, mature lady regarded her; much like a feral cat gazing at a frightened field mouse.‘Ah; okay, Gayle,' she hammed it up with a cute tilt of the head. The older woman's eyes narrowed.‘I am beginning to think you aren't quite as dumb as you pretend to be,' Gayle murmured. ‘Now why would that be?'‘What be?' Le played along. Mrs. Samsonov's look became downright menacing.‘I don't like being played for the fool,' she whispered. ‘I'm real sure Vlad and his brothers will be even less amused.'Then, in a flash, the triplet's mother stood and smiled down at her, though Le could sense the humor didn't touch her eyes, or her words. ‘Have fun this weekend, Pearl. Act dumb around school if you like, but my children and I don't have time for such games.'‘I; Mrs.; Gayle, why; how did you figure it out?' Le's protests went from lame to a whisper. When denial was clearly no longer an option, she wanted to know what she'd done to give herself away.Gayle studied her for a few; very long; seconds.‘Smart people can act stupid, but stupid people can't act smart. That being said, really dumb people have bad body posture, often have their mouths open when they don't know what to say; not your candy; and don't react when they themselves say stupid shit,' Gayle enlightened her.‘You make simple statements, but not stupid ones; like Alondra and Betty Jo do. They stay stupid things while you don't. True, they are dumber than most, but they are the ones you are trying to model yourself after, failing, and failing in a manner a suitably observant person can pick up on. After all, for the past two years, how many guys, or girls, have wanted to test your conversational skills?'Le was taken aback at how helpful the older lady was and began taking mental notes.‘Are you; how angry are you with me?' Le worried.‘We accept you've had to deal with different social factors at Davis Consolidated (High School) before we came here. Choices you made last year and before now are in the past. If you don't want to learn from your mistakes, that's on you.'‘If we change?'‘You are no longer cum dumps for the Football Teams. You are the Supreme Female Social Organization with the Samsonov boys making sure you won't be abused, or used as sexual trophies.‘But there still will be sex?' Le gulped. Gayle Samsonov's countenance was downright savage.‘Would you do every member of the Football Team, or just my Vlad?' she posed the question (trap). Le really liked the Football gangbangs, blowjobs and bukkake sessions. Her hunger to embrace the madness which had turned her Mother away from her (White) Father and brought her (Le) into existence came into conflict with her desire to recapture the personal experience she'd shared with Vlad.‘Isn't he mostly interested in Brandy?'‘He's devoted to Brandy, but Brandy will let him spend time with you as long as you support Brandy and Taliyah; plus you keep Vlad's interest because it is the right thing to do,' Mrs. Samsonov explained. Le wasn't used to thinking of either Brandy, or Taliyah, as magnanimous, except;‘Do Brandy and Taliyah confide in you?' Le made an educated leap. Of course, Taliyah's mother was opposed to all things Fonteneau; but here she was, chaperoning the same party, and Brandy had been utterly under Darius' spell at the start of the year; yet clearly was now madly devoted to Gayle's middle son.Gayle's grin lost some of its hostile quality.‘Clever indeed.'Le gave a shy smile in response.‘Enjoy the weekend, Pearl. Open up to Vlad if you get the chance. He's not intimidated by smart women, he likes reading; not as much as sex, but he's still happy to learn; and teach,' Gayle imparted. As she walked away, Le had to wonder how her whole world had transformed; no; evolved. She hoped it was evolving into something much more intriguing than what they were all surrendering. She jumped up and ran to catch up with the older woman. There was so much more she could learn.Victoria ‘Mad Vicky' Orem.‘Come on, Alexander, join us beating up these cheerleader-bitches,' Vicky pleaded with the oldest Samsonov triplet. She'd scampered over to him because her team needed the help and she wasn't sure Kaelyne would be able to return with Mikhail (and Taliyah) from inside.Currently it was her, Kaelyne, Vlad, Sgt. Louisa Petrakis (the State Cop) and Ms. Blanchard versus Missy Brandy, Sultana, Noémie Lucie, Amber Lee and Misty Dawn. With the size, or lack thereof, of herself and Kaelyne, the plan was to replace Ms. Blanchard and the Sarge with Mikhail and/or Alexander.‘I'm still busted up,' he grinned up at her.‘Oh, come on. Don't be a wimp,' she teased him, her fists on her thin, boney hips and thrust out her small chest. Her brand new white, string bikini shown on her tan-less body with the top being so conservative with the fabric it consisted of little more than two tringles kept together by their tie strings. If only she'd had more than 'A' cup sized boobs to fill them;‘Well, if you can pull me up, I'll do my best,' he conceded. Sure, she was 90 lbs. soaking wet while he was 220 lbs., but Vicky was fearless and determined to avenge the earlier pool massacre. She yanked, yanked, made some progress then went for a two hand grip on his left hand. Alexander reversing things, lightning-quick and pulled her down across his body, catching her by surprise.‘Hey!' she protested quite vocally.‘I'd like to kiss you,' Alexander requested passionately.Shock, pleasure, leaning down into Alexander; and nipping his nose.‘Ow,' he complained.‘Took you long enough,' Vicky teased him.Alexander's sudden, expressive and very public sign of affection had been the last thing she'd expected. Yes, they had exchanged sexually charged barbs and erotic innuendo for the past few days; but honestly, Vicky had felt the Samsonov she craved was beyond her. She Knew all the cheerleaders were better looking and even Kaelyne had bigger boobs. Even the 'old ladies' were disappointingly curvaceous, busty and intriguing; at least to the guys.‘Am I going to get that kiss?' Alexander brightened up.‘I don't know,' she vaulted onto his recliner so she ended up straddling his stomach just above the top of his trunks. ‘I kinda like the idea of sexually torturing you,' she added as she sat down; on him.‘Vicky!' Kaelyne reappeared out of the house with Mikhail. ‘Are you two coming?'‘Ocupado!' Vicky triumphantly pronounced. Only then, with her palms placed on Alexander's muscular pectorals, did she lean in for that kiss.‘Yippee!' Kaelyne whooped back. She truly was Vicky's best friend.‘Hey Vicky, don't break him,' Mikhail added in his own teasing.‘I make no promises,' Vicky shot back loudly and proudly. In reality, she had zero sexual experience. She had just had her first kiss; which was warm, wet and wonderful; and she was totally virgin.Vicky had never fit in, battled with ADHD most of her life and had never felt the desire to conform to any of the norms of Kingston, or Davis County. Her hair was always off-color, her only true friend was a shy, introverted, gun-loving lesbian nearly as physically under-developed as she was and, despite the oft-promise of pain, she'd never knuckled under to the bullies.Her musical tastes were unknown bands from other continents and she despised the Sports Religion, so she had expected to serve out her High School years in social exile; but the arrival of the Samsonov's had changed all that. Now she was at a Pool Party with the Cheer Squad; even though as an addendum to Kaelyne; and sexually taunting one hunk of a guy.They kissed twice more before Vicky began serpentining down his body. Lips caressed Alexander's chin, Adam's apple and sternum. Awkwardly, she reached a hand between them and between her spread legs, patting her partner's swimsuit. It took him a few seconds to figure out what Vicky was searching for.‘Umm,' he coughed, somewhat embarrassed. Vicky was turning out to be far more physically aggressive than he'd assumed. ‘It has; ah; expanded down my left leg.'‘Oh!' Vicky popped up, giving Alexander a wicked grin like some demented pixie. ‘Thanks.'She was doubly pleased. He was both not so offended as to be put off plus he was aroused. Check that; triply pleased! Alexander's Baloney Pony Was Huge! (In her inexperienced estimation). She grabbed that manly earthworm and began maneuvering it 'due north'. Soon it was rubbing beneath her covered vulva. Wiggling on it felt wonderful.Alexander's moan was almost as pleasing.‘Oh; ‘ she taunted him, ‘does someone like that?'Alexander gave two, pained nods.What 'Mad Vicky' lacked in real world expertise she compensated for with a rich, diverse and ignored 'For 18+' warning labels, internet history.She pushed herself up slowly, adding an extra twist to her wicked grin when Alexander's eyes flickered to her bikini-top covered assets. Her own quick assessment revealed that while her breasts remained small, her puffy areolas and thick, stubby nipples were flushed with blood and making indentations against her scanty covering. As she kept pushing up, Vicky couldn't help but feel victorious.She had Alexander's cock angling toward his belly button (with the tip no longer contained by his trunks) which had the added benefit of the muscle separating her labia (though equally under wraps). Damn, it felt fine! Vicky was now perpendicular to Alexander's reclining form. Her guy / victim was totally focused on her. The only thing which could make things better was to; He he he he; rub it in.Vicky raised her arms over her head, fingers interlocked then began gyrating and rocking back and forth on his aroused rod.‘Oh Yeah!' she exulted. Things only got better.After a few cycles, Alexander propped himself up with his right elbow and reached out with his left hand, placing it just below her right breast.Vicky figured he was testing her reactions. She was positively luminescent. The oldest Samsonov triplet took that as permission to move three fingers up so he could began playing with her erect nipple through her top. That felt so fine, too. The better, kept getting better.‘Hey!' Misty Dawn Sizemore protested. ‘What's that little freak doing with our guy?'Yep! Vicky's soul soared. She'd stolen a guy the cheerleaders wanted. She was doing her rendition of a barrel-riding/pole-dancing girl routine on top of him for all of those bitches to see. And the better just kept on coming.‘You like?' she resumed her taunting. Alexander nodded again. His words were unexpected.‘I really like your body, Vicky,' he expressed with such genuine openness and innocent trust it caused the tiny temptress to pause.‘You do, don't you?' she barely annunciated.‘Yeah. These nipples look absolutely delicious, you have this pert, tight little ass that wiggles every time you take a bouncing step and your smile is luminous, Vicky. Has no one has ever told you that before?'She digested his compliments and more before deciding he both was not playing her and was really, really sweet.‘No,' she added a little extra wiggle, ‘You would be the first.' Pause. ‘So, you like watching my ass?'‘Behave,' Gayle Samsonov shouted from across the pool. She and Pearl Yates were walking together down to the lawn set aside for the volleyball match.So many replies;‘But I don't want to,' Vicky faux-whined. ‘He's so yummy.'‘I wasn't talking to you, Vicky. I was warning my eldest,' Gayle laughed.‘I don't want to, Ma,' Alexander joined the protest. ‘She's so yummy!'‘Don't make me come over there,' Gayle stopped and shook her finger in their direction. Alexander flopped down and groaned. He even draped his left elbow over his eyes.‘Does this mean we stop?' Vicky get gyrating on his cock.‘I'm afraid so. Going against my Ma is dangerous. Her mean-streak is legendary among those lucky enough to be left alive,' he moaned. ‘Trust me, Vicky' he moved his arm so they were making long, in depth eye contact once more, ‘I'll get you later.'‘What about all the other girls?' she play-pouted. She was really loving this banter.‘Can I leave it at 'Mom's evil plan requires me and my Brothers to romance the Cheer Squad'; please?' Alexander frowned. Vicky wanted to know more. Accepting anything with blind obedience wasn't in her. ‘You are the one who engages me. I confess I didn't see you right away. I had some other crap on my mind, but I see you now and I'm honest about really liking what you're showing.'Pause.‘You are still going to fuck me, right?' she ground her crotch down on his cock.‘Hell yeah,' he coughed. ‘Can't you feel how hard you are making me?'‘Teehee,' Vicky giggled. ‘Just don't go all around school bragging about it,' she reiterated an earlier exchange they'd shared. ‘I'm not that kind of girl.' Total Lie.‘As I recall you are a 'write her name on the bathroom stalls' kind of girl,' he laughed.Vicky snickered.‘Don't make me have to tattoo my name on your dick,' she faux-threatened.‘Ouch,' Alexander winched. ‘Have I told you how much I adore your ass?'‘And my eyes,' she preened. She gave his cock one more vigorous circuit of stimulation then dismounted. ‘Let's go play volleyball before your Mamma has to come back up here and kick my adorable little ass.'‘How about we go down and you sit in my lap as we watch?' he offered instead. ‘I'm kind of still in a great deal of pain. Cracked ribs and all.'‘Fine,' Vicky began pulling the large man-boy up, ‘Kaelyne and I will tag in and out because, while I like that dick, I still want to kick some cheerleader ass.'‘Are you any good at volleyball,' he asked as they hobbled down to the gathering, his left arm draped over her shoulders.‘Never played before in my life. I rocked at tetherball in Kindergarten. How much harder can this be?' Vicky joked.Alexander snorted. Vicky was soaking up the jealous, angry looks being sent her way as she helped him approach. Would she pay for her usurpation later? Most likely, but the promise of retribution from those who thought they were better than her had never stopped her before; and they certainly weren't going to stop her now. This was turning out to be one of the best days of her life.Taliyah and Dominique.Taliyah found her Mother in the Carson's den running her finger over various books on the shelf while drinking a tall glass of 'something'.‘Mamma, how are you going to fix this?' she started off. Dominique looked over her shoulder then slowly turned around, a rather unhappy look on her face.‘Baby, there is no fixing what's wrong with your Daddy and I.'‘Mamma!' Taliyah shouted.

Momma Carson.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Since a quick 'cool down' in the pool seemed like a Great idea at that instant, I sidled down the sofa and retrieved swimming trunks from my book bag. Though not Speedos, Brandy still approved. This also allowed me to 'clean up' with my underwear then stow it away in the plastic bag the trunks had come in.‘Okay,' she rang out once we were back in shirts and shorts. Mamma Carson came into view and all the blood which had been struggling back up to my brain raced to my enraged cock. Brandy's Mom was wearing a light grey sports bra, with nipples poking out invitingly, matching boy shorts, with clearly evident camel toe, and; ah; petite workout moccasins? That's what they looked like anyway. She completed the ensemble with a baby blue hair bow holding most of her hair back and a matching linen towel over her right shoulder.Undoubtedly; I was drooling.‘Mamma!' Brandy exclaimed in faux-surprise over 'Mamma's' attire.‘I just wanted to work out in the home gym and to know if you wanted to join me; like old times,' Mrs. Carson asked all innocent-like. What Brandy said was a bit less innocent and way more indicative of Brandy's trust in me (or so I thought).‘Mamma, dressed that way; I'm afraid Vlad might rape you. I'm pretty sure his brother Mikhail will; if he sees you walking around dressed like that,' Brandy chortled. Jodi May Memphis Carson wasn't a believer so I turned to the woman whose opinion truly mattered.‘Can I? Can I? Can I?' I pleaded as I fell to my knees before Brandy. ‘Please, please, please! Can I have her?'‘What!' squawked Brandy even as her eyes shone with feverish glee.‘What?' gawked Jodi May, not wanting to comprehend the scene before her; and her powerlessness in it.‘She's, my, Mother,' Brandy put both fists on her hips and began scolding me.‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,' I rapidly nodded like a maddened Fool.‘What she said,' Mamma Carson affirmed.‘Don't you care that she's my Mamma?' Brandy's tone became teasing.‘I think it is extra-special that she's your mother,' I kept up the head-bobbing.‘But I'm; ah; older enough to be her Mother,' the older Carson protested.‘Yes,' I turned to Jodi May, ‘you are what I have to look forward to if we get married, Jodi May.' Then I added a bit of my newfound cunning by saying, ‘You are almost as good as the real Brandy to my way of thinking.'I turned back to My Girl because I wasn't sure how good my Poker Face was, or how good Jodi May was at reading the hearts of young men. In reality, I didn't want a Brandy substitute and would wait for the real Brandy to become available as opposed to 'settling'.That wasn't what both women had heard though. For Brandy, it was a cruelly landed barb; on the Mother who had slept with her previous beau; as if Darius hadn't bothered to both tell Brandy and demand she never reveal she knew; because he was that kind of twisted piece of work, poisoning Daughter against her Mother.Out of sight of Mamma, I crossed the first and fore fingers of my hands to create the '#' sign followed by a '1' as I mouthed 'girl'. She winked with her hooded, left eye to show she'd caught on to my game.‘Prince, don't get pouty,' Brandy stroked my cheek. ‘It is just that Darius used to tucker her out and you are easily twice the lover he ever was to me. I don't want you screwing her unconscious like you did me our first time either,' she added on, ‘on her first day back.'‘Brandy; what?' Jodi May mentally backpedaled. ‘Who told you such stuff?'‘Darius told me, Mamma. He even showed me a video of you, him and Rashaan in a three-way,' she undercut any further attempts at denial. ‘It's okay. I believed Darius' lies too and made even worse mistakes; like believing he cared about me as opposed to his real purpose; which was to hurt Daddy.'‘Baby, you can't; I mean; it was one mistake,' she evaded.‘He showed me two tapes,' Brandy looked saddened to catch her maternal champion in a lie.‘Brandy; I; ‘‘Mamma, I'm free of him now,' Brandy let a single tear track her cheek. ‘Vlad saved me.'I took this as my clue to rise up, stop playing the Clown and return to being her masculine Guardian and Protector. I wrapped Brandy up in both arms as she wrapped my waist up in hers. Soft kisses landed on the top of her head.‘Hey, Princess?'‘Yes Prince?'‘How about you go upstairs and get dressed for a gym workout and I'll stay down here with your mother and; ‘ I led off.‘Yes; and; ,' Brandy wiggled while she looked straight up into my gaze.‘I'll spank her until you return. Seems totally fair and unbiased to me.'‘Spanking my ass is not enough for you?' she sniffle-giggled.‘Wait? What? I get to spank both your asses?!?!?'‘No,' she protested. ‘You get to spank Mamma, but only until I get back.'‘Brandy!' Mom exclaimed.‘Mamma, I'll change real fast, I promise,' Brandy shot me another wink then sprinted off before there could be any other verbal roadblocks.More, as in more of Jodi MayA few seconds later;‘Young man, I am not going to let you spank me,' Jodi May announced.‘If you don't, can you imagine how much more disappointed in you Brandy will be when she gets back? Sleeping with Darius was a stupid thing to do, but you both know how charismatic he could be. Lying to her about what you did was dumber and overly cruel to a young woman who deserves the truth desperately,' I glared her way.‘That doesn't equate to me degrading myself before you,' she frowned.‘Oh, come on,' I attempted to placate the mother. ‘Just lay across my lap. I'll give one good smack when I hear her coming down the stairs and she'll be mollified.'Maybe I had a good Poker Face after all, or perhaps mine was yet another lie Jodi May wanted/choose to believe.‘Well, don't get slap happy,' she wagged a finger at me as she came around the sofa. She certainly walked slowly enough to hard-sell her reluctance.I languidly sat down, then beckoned her forward with my forefinger. Her eyes rolled heavenward at my theater even as she complied; by crawling across my lap. I held off my 'gulp' until she wasn't looking at me.Step 1: I held my palms upraised and clasped together in supplication and prayer while whispering, ‘Таксиарх Архангел Михаил, за то, что я собираюсь получить, я смиренно благодарен.' ‘Taksiarkh Arkhangel Mikhail, za to, chto ya sobirayus' poluchit', ya smirenno blagodaren.'‘Are you saying Grace over my Behind?' she looked over her shoulder at me, somewhat caught between cross and bemused.‘Your whole body, Ma'am. Your whole body and it is only fitting and proper that I do so. Anything less would be sacrilegious in the extreme,' I smiled. Jodi May smirked. She shouldn't have been so confident.Step 2 saw me putting my left forearm casually over her shoulder blades. Now she was tensing up and becoming physically uneasy, but too late for that.Step 3 and I began massaging her buttocks.‘Hey! What are you doing?' she hissed. Her attempts to rise were countered by me applying pressure with my forearm. My right hand rose and came down with a resounding 'Smack!' ‘Ow! What the; ‘‘It should be obvious,' I humored her. ‘I lied. You've been bad. Worse, you've been bad to Brandy in my presence and I'm not going to tolerate that, not for one second. Clear enough?'‘Let go,' she struggled valiantly. ‘I said; Ow! Ugh,' she sniffled as a second blow was followed by a third in rapid succession.‘Next time it will be three and the number keeps going on up, got it?' I stated. She hesitated so my right hand rose.‘Yes,' she yielded cautiously.‘Okay. Here are the new Ground Rules. Brandy is the Lady of this House, not you. You ran off while she stayed. Play nice and my family will work overtime to not make things even worse between you and your husband when he returns. Cross any of us, or Brandy, and you have no clue how bad it will get,' I began.‘And if I say 'no' are you going to continue to beat me?' she challenged. Down came three hard blows on her luscious posterior which vibrated deliciously with each impact.‘Ow, ow, Ow!' she teared up. ‘Stop! Please stop!' It would have been more convincing if I hadn't spotted her hands sneaking back. I foresaw ten sets of claw marks in my near future if I wasn't careful.Down came four painful blows with the accompanying highly vocal protests.‘Hands over your head,' I demanded in a harsh, unforgiving tone. ‘Five, four, three; ‘I could see her contemplate trying to scarify me then think better of it. My pain tolerance was an unknowns while she was approaching hers. Up her hands went.‘Good girl,' I leaned forward and cooed into her hair from close above. ‘Cross your wrists and keep them that way.' Again, compliance with an undertone of a mare getting ready to bolt. ‘Raise your legs up on the sofa and cross your ankles. Keep them that way.' At this point she realized she was stuck. There was going to be no quick getaway for her.‘Who is the Lady of the House?' I inquired softly.‘Brandy.'‘Not very convincing, but that will have to do for the moment,' I first caused her to coil from the expected painful spanking, then relax when she realized she'd gained a respite. ‘I know you don't believe me for no reason which truly makes sense to me, but you don't. I'm okay with your current misconceptions about me.'I moved my hand under the elastic of her shorts.‘Hey,' she tried to raise her head up, stilling me with her gaze alone. My hand worked down to the crack of her ass then alternating along the sides instead of continuing 'deeper'. Once more, this was just a false hiatus as, with a few quick twists of my right wrist, I began working her shorts down until I had exposed her bare buttocks to me.Since the verbal and non-verbal roadblocks weren't working, she went for the straight physical denial by clamping her thighs shut. Thighs are stronger than arms, but you'd have had to have been a premier female bodybuilder to keep my questing fingers from between them and stop my progress at this late date; and Jodi May's figure was way too opulent for that's sport's discipline.‘While keeping your ankles crossed, move your knees apart,' I ordered. Finally she launched her all-out rebellion. I could have out-wrestled her three years ago and won without my current hellish advantages. I had Jodi May off the sofa and pinned, face-first, on the floor in ten seconds flat. Five blows to her scrumptious rear rained down. This time the resulting tears were very real.‘Okay; okay,' she sobbed.I made a production of getting off of her, resuming my seat then having her crawl back across my lap. This time she was utterly defeated and scared. Six blows were her 'reward'. The 'reward' was the playfulness of those feather-light touches of those faux-slaps to her abused flesh. ‘Ah, ah, ah; oh; ‘‘Raise up your tush.'Her ‘Why?' was quickly followed by my frown and then her instant compliance. Kisses replaced the palm of my hand as I blew gently and placed faint signs of affection on her posterior. My hand was busy going between her cheeks until my fingertips contacted moist labia-meat.‘Ah; should you? Brandy; back soon?' Jodi May whimpered.‘Who is the Lady of the House?'‘; Brandy?'‘Yes and it is up to Brandy to call me off. I know how long it takes for her to get dressed when she has sex on her mind, so I'm already aware she can intervene whenever she wishes to. This is Brandy's game, Jodi May, not yours, not mine.'I worked two fingers up to the first digit into her labia, feeling she was becoming quite wet. My thumb was tapping her sphincter as well. Jodi May was beginning to really get into it, adding a little push back to my play, when Brandy announced her presence.‘Hey guys. Whatchya doing?'I held Jodi May firm so all my mature victim could do was stay on all fours while I methodically finger fucked her from behind.‘Quick; let me up,' Jodi May urged me quietly, yet without much conviction.‘No.'‘Mamma; Vlad?' Brandy glided down the stairs and fully into view. I had been prepared for more of a fight from Mrs. Carson than she'd put up, which was for damn sure. Jodi May gracefully slid off the sofa, dragging a throw pillow with her and then buried her face in it, more a feeble effort at hiding than any real attempt to break our coupling.I couldn't have been more baffled though I felt compelled to follow to keep my position via-a-via her body.'She's been lonely,' Brandy mouthed to me followed by, ‘Vlad, that's my Mother!''Huh?' from me.'Don't stop', then ‘get off of her right now, Mister!' Fortunately, I figured out which sets of lips to obey; Brandy's silent ones and Jodi May's lower, gooey ones. Her upper ones were beginning to make subdued little moaning noises.‘Oh Mamma, is my Prince being mean to you?' my Lady knelt by her mother's head.‘He spanked me badly,' the older lady mumbled into the pillow.‘Vlad, make it up to her,' Brandy turned to me. Her insistent tone was undermined by her wink.‘I like where I am,' I defied her then mouthed, 'what do I do?'‘None of that backtalk, Mister,' she waggled a finger at me. ‘Get those magic lips to work this instant,' the finger pointed toward her mother's hindquarters.‘And if I don't?' I scoffed. Then, 'I love you.'‘Then that cock of yours is blocked from ALL the ladies this weekend; Oh Vlad who is living Vicariously,' she shot me a sly smile. 'I love you too.'‘Ouch!' I emoted as I recoiled. ‘Princess; that's harsh,' followed by a double eyebrow pump and 'anything for you.'‘Brandy; I (sniff) don't; want (sniffle); him to; oh; ah; oh, stop that Vlad,' Jodi May protested.While Mamma Carson had been voicing her dissent, I had been shuffling down the length of the sofa. Quickly enough I maneuvered myself into a position where I could begin planting kisses on her abused heinie, all the while keeping my fingers gracefully playing in her cunny and across her anal frontiers. I began adding little flicks of my tongue as I'd had something similar done to me once, during my first time with a professional. That one could arouse with just her lips, teeth and tongue in ways I'd never imagined.‘Oh; he shouldn't be doing that,' Jodi May murmured. ‘Make him stop.'During this appeal, I was petting her along her spine until she got the hint I wanted her to bow her back to give me better access to her girly bits.‘No, Mamma. Vlad has to learn his lesson. He can't take you, or any woman; but especially not us Carson women; for granted,' Brandy insisted.'You sure; about this?' I checked.'I want Mamma to stay home, Prince,' she smiled somewhat tearfully. I sensed she'd had words with Mikhail and Taliyah before returning. My youngest triplet must have been deadly insistent about the power of 'my love', which healed her heart, being able to rejuvenate her mother of whatever emotional maledictions had aided her departure from this household, things I was still largely unaware of.Twenty seconds of oral succulence later; 'I don't have a condom'.Brandy had coaxed her mother to turn her head sideways on the pillow, facing Brandy's lap though Jodi May's eyes were closed. Brandy, for her part, was in navy blue butt shorts and a blue sports bra (I figured from Brandy's desire to color coordinate) and a white, sleeve-less t-shirt with blue stripes down the sides.'She's on birth control.''This may get more than a bit weird. (Are you) sure about this?''Come back to me, Vlad.''Always, Princess.'A stellar smile followed my promise to her, then it was 'back to work' (though I hardly thought of my sexual activities in such a manner.)Honestly, Jodi May had a way more developed sense of what she liked and how to get me to go where she wanted to me to go than any other Arkansas woman I'd been with to date. She wasn't all that bashful, or clumsy about it, either. There was a magical grace to her responses which later left me amazed how she led me to her first orgasm without me realizing she was definitely leading our carnal cavorting.Hmm; my mind was recovering; in that I could create more wordy prose while simultaneously working my neck (I was on my stomach behind her by this time, propped up on my elbows), nose, mouth, fingers and tongue. I was still the composer, creating the movement for the orchestra to play, but she was the body of music, filling the auditorium of our love-making with a tantalizing harmonic melody. I couldn't tear myself away.For her part, Jodi May made sure to rub her vaginal fluids over my face from eyebrow ridge to the stubble beneath my chin (hey! I'd hurried to get over here). All I could taste and smell was her womanly aroma; a richer, raw maple syrupy smell combined with scallops; which I quickly came to adore.I got a mouth and two cheeks full when she orgasmed and she got to howl into her pillow while Brandy, now the maestro of this little performance, appeared surprised by her ever-growing, new-found power over the people who had such an emotional impact on her life. Brandy was In Charge!I was lapping away like some overly friendly Saint Bernard the juices which had escaped my gullet as Jodi May coasted down from her post-coitus euphoria. Then Mother began crying to daughter and daughter to Mother.‘I'm so sorry, Baby Boo,' Mamma addressed her offspring. ‘I tore everything apart.'‘You did, Mamma,' Brandy petted her hair, ‘but if you hadn't run off with Mr. Jenks, Senior Deputy Samsonov wouldn't have applied for his job, gotten it and the Samsonov's wouldn't have stayed. I would have been under Darius' thumb; as would have the whole school. You hurt me and Daddy plenty, yet; in the Greater Scheme of Things; it worked out better for me and Daddy with the new friends we've made.'‘That's a beautiful way of looking at my screw-up,' Jodi May's eyes opened in more ways than one way. Brandy was acting in a more self-possessed manner at this moment than she ever had before. Jodi had left a girl subjugated by a villain and come back to a women partnered with a man whom she loved and who loved her. Our strong bond powered everything else.‘You still hurt Daddy and for that you must atone, Mamma,' Brady frowned slightly.‘Atone; ah; like punish me?' Mamma didn't seem all that distressed.‘Yes. We can go back to your present room and cut up all your racy dresses, or you can promise to never leave the house without me, or Pa; or you could let Vlad be so terribly mean to you that you never forget who really cares for you,' Brandy laid out the choices. My girl had it going on!‘Terribly mean,' Jodi May flashed me a famished look, ‘like what he is doing to me right now?'‘Oh yes; just like this plus much, much worse,' Brandy feigned innocence.‘How much worse?' Mrs. Carson hid her smile well.‘Stay right there and find out,' I joined in. I finished rolling her from leaning to one side to over on her back with my kisses falling down on her still micro-trembling thighs.‘One thing though, Mamma,' Brandy grew steely.‘Yes.'‘Daddy doesn't want you around us no more.'‘Let me deal with; ‘‘No,' Brandy put her foot (knee) down. ‘You broke Daddy's heart for the last time with your cheating ways. Hell, I became a cheater too, and I think you are somewhat to blame for that as well; me going behind his back to keep dating Darius.'‘Honey Child, those are adult things,' Mamma tried to both mollify her baby while seduce me with a host of non-verbal clues.‘No, Mamma. Not anymore. I'm 18 now and I think I know what is going on. Daddy won't take you back and back into his bed, never. If you promise me and him you will behave; ‘‘I'm your Mother,' Jodi May grew frosty up top while keeping steamy and inviting below.‘And I am your Daughter and I'm telling you if you try to romance Dad, you can't win. You will cheat again and he'll detonate in a big way. Then he will take you to Divorce Court and destroy us as a family. I don't want that.'Brandy Crystal Carson.Jodi May wasn't overly groomed in the pelvic region, but it wasn't too much to deal with either. It was natural and womanly, very fitting for the untamed, sumptuous tableau of maverick charms she presented to me.‘I'll behave, Brandy Crystal Carson,' Mamma shifted around so could place one hand over her heart. ‘I swear. This time things will be different.'‘Yes. Yes, they will. Mamma, in this instant, you can stop having sex with Vlad and have sex with no other until Daddy decides to take you back to his bed, you can keep whoring around until Daddy gets so ashamed by it, he tosses you out for good, or; ‘‘Or; ?' Jodi May was somewhat less than the authoritative persona she wanted and needed to put forth to be the master/mistress the situation at this point.‘Or, we let you have sex with Vlad; and his two, identical brothers, Mikhail and Alexander, but only them.'I struggled mighty hard to not let the 'Hey now! Don't we (my Brothers and I) get a vote in this?' push the current wolfish cravings for more Jodi May off my face and to alter my demeanor from covetous carnivore to caring boyfriend. I already knew Mikhail's vote would be a 'Hell yeah!', but Alexander? Me? I found myself gradually going serpentine up my current partner's body.‘Vladimir; Vlad, you can't be okay with this?' Jodi May's eyes riveted me. Only the truth would do so I went for the most effective bit of truth.‘Brandy Crystal Carson is my Lady on my arm and my Whore in my bedroom, Jodi May. She has entered the tiny group of people whose opinions I give a damn about, and the only one of the four who isn't blood-related. That is how much I value your daughter's council, advice and personal direction when I need it.'‘So you are just going to let her tell you who you can and can't sleep with; for real; ‘‘Abso-fucking-lutely, Mrs. Carson. That is because it isn't about the fucking; it is about the happiness. I'm happiest when my world collapses down to just Brandy and me.'‘I'm happiest when she smiles at me when I've done a good thing. I'm happiest when she is so hoarse from screaming out her orgasms she can't enunciate clearly, or even move, after one of our ferocious rounds of love-making. In essence: Brandy = my happiness; so yes, I give everything she recommends to me great weight.'‘In this case,' I ran my tongue up between her gently sagging mounds of mountainous breast tissue, ‘she is telling me what will make her happy; having sex with a 'loyal' you; and; not having sex with a disloyal you; makes her happy.' I paused for several seconds to glomb onto her right nipple and playfully suckle upon it. Her legs, already open, allowed her heels to start working over the sides of my calves and the back of my knees.‘I could wake up in the morning and have sex with your daughter, Mrs. Carson. We could chase one another around, frolic and have sex all over whichever domicile we found ourselves in; and if I did it for a hundred years, I would never get bored with Brandy, or want to anything except make her joyous inside and out,' I finished up.Jodi May had three options to believe in:~ I could still be a standard milksop White Boy despite the preponderance of evidence to the contrary,~ The entire political-racial-sexual landscape had turned topsy-turvy in her short (6 month) absence,~ Or I was actually a Big Black Cock Monster in disguise (the third one was Mikhail's spin on things, I swear).I had another issue, rug burn and my desire to avoid it for both of us.‘A Prize like you shouldn't be nailed to Kingdom Come on the floor like some common floozy,' I declared. ‘Here,' I slipped on hand under Jodi May's tailbone, lifting her up and pressing her into me. ‘Wrap your arms around my neck,' I commanded 'my prize'.‘Umm,' she gasped as her body clove to mine. ‘You certainly are; ah; strong.'‘I 'pry free' ladies who Society mistakenly believes have become 'Black-owned' on a regular basis, I wrestle said 'Black' rascals down until they cry out 'I'm an Uncle Tom' and I show those women the powerful lineage of Valhalla hasn't gone from this world quite yet; though not necessarily in that order,' I bullshitted some stuff together.‘Vlad; that's gosh-darn racist; except the last part. That didn't make too much sense, but; I think I liked it,' Mamma Carson salivated over every turn of the phrase. Me being 'racist' definitely wasn't a deal-breaker for her and the Valhalla nonsense glossed over my ancestors confused relationship with those Scandinavians who came a vikinging to the East over a millennia ago.I hefted her up abruptly, spun on one knee and deposited her on her rump on the edge of the sofa cushions.‘Aie!' she squealed in surprise. Off-guard, she posed no resistance as I made my final approach. I aimed my cockhead at her glistening vulva with my left hand while pushing her left leg away while keeping the knee locked. ‘What?'‘How do you want it?' I growled. ‘Hard and brutal, or slow and gentle?'‘How about I show you how I like it?' she purred. It was hard to argue with her kind of counter-proposal. Her right-hand's fingernails trailed down my shoulders, upper arm and the over to my waist to guide me into her designated pace of her penetration.I'll give her this much, until the tenth cycle she held it together better than her daughter. Afterwards, the newness of her vaginal walls undulating around my veined shaft caused her breath to catch and her hands to grab my ass, drawing me in ever deeper.‘Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, Yip!' she went off after I accidently pushed passed her cervix.I was certain, just like Brandy with Darius, Mr. Jenks had most likely gone before where I was going now. The 'new' was her cervix massaging my glans and the area right behind the head like a mini-handjob (for me) /pleasurable vibrator-to-the-uterus' entrance (for her). I didn't look like the biggest, or thickest piece of Man-Meat she'd ever encountered so;‘IN-tense, isn't it, Mamma?' Brandy appeared on the sofa beside us. I was still kneeling on the floor, I had mother's legs spread in a wide 'V' and was beginning to pick up our tempo as the interrogation began.‘Hush, Baby (gasp), Mamma is; oh Lord,' she mumbled, ‘I'm; oh; my; Vlad; slow down.'Innocent trust required me to slow down. My nascent woman-sense told me to do the opposite. I slowly pulled back; then hungrily drove home deep. Jodi May grunted as her eyes, once shuttered, sprang wide open. I followed that up with small, rapid repetitions interspersed with gyrating the sensation inward, my pubic bone on her clitoral region. My partner's legs flexed even wider, her head flew back, bow keeping her hair from going wild and her eyes squeezed shut.To add to the stimulation, I latched on to her right breast, suckling the whole areola and nipple into my mouth. Brandy took the left nipple between two fingers and began pinching it and rolling it between them.‘Gurr; ‘ my first thought was 'when did the Carson's get a cat?'‘Gurr; ‘; 'Holy Shit! How did a puma get in here?'And the resulting caterwauling Yowl was the scariest, female Big Cat noise I'd ever heard; and that was Jodi May Memphis Carson having a no-holds-bared Orgasm as her body flushed ruddy, sweat perspired all over, her back painfully bowed and of course, she screamed out to High Heavens like no human I'd ever heard.I lost it. I was shooting off semen deep into her uterus as her cervix was once more grappling with my glans. I had no care in that instant where, or what I was doing. I was a spectator being taken along for the ride though I wasn't hemmed-in in any physical way.‘Holy Shit, Bro!' Mikhail laughed loudly. ‘Delivering from Downtown!' I think he was referencing a long 3-point shot in basketball, but I was too sonically concussed to be sure.‘Take notes,' Taliyah repeated her refrain.Those two had come downstairs after Brandy and, it appeared, had been quietly watching us as events unfolded.‘Brandy, is everything okay?' sounded off Noémie Lucie from the far side hallway, the one which led to the stairs down to the lower level which included the space the other cheerleaders had been sleeping. Oh boy. Explaining this was going to be a peach.Who is here to chaperone whom?(11:30 poolside at the Carson Home.)It made perfect sense Sheriff 'Big Bob' Carson wouldn't trust his home solely to his 'somewhat independent-minded' daughter when she was having thirteen friends over for a Saturday Night party. While Taliyah could show up whenever she wanted since she and Brandy were lifelong Besties, the whole crowd showing up on Friday night was completely unofficial; so he'd asked an adult, or two, to chaperone tonight.No, he hadn't handed that heavy responsibility over to us equally hormonal, 18 year old triplets; as we were considered one of the hazards which needed to be chaperoned against. Nope; if we'd been able to roll all our lives back one whole day and night, we would have seen the Sheriff having dinner with someone who fit the bill of 'perfect chaperone' (a single, adult female with a strong will, of pure moral fiber and a history of legalized violence; Big Bob was fully aware of our current extracurricular circumstances) with the sole exception she wasn't a friend, or even very much of an acquaintance; so he was asking a great deal of them.Thankfully, 'business' was keeping this person in our sleepy burgh of Kingston anyway and this would give her a perfect opportunity to interrogate some of the possible 'third parties' involved with the crime which had befallen poor Darius Pope and his busted-up buddies.Yep, Brandy's Papa had asked the AHP CID (Arkansas Highway Patrol Criminal Investigation Division) Sergeant Louisa Petrakis to 'babysit' his 18 year old daughter and her friends to make sure their partying remained PG-13. That, not some desire to twist up the criminal investigation into the Darius Pope matter, had been the reason he'd 'wined and dined' her Thursday night.She'd only agreed After she'd realized what a corrupt bunch of actors the Kingston PD was and gotten the implication the Sheriff couldn't even trust the majority of his own Deputies. To her this must have smelled like some political civil war a 'brewing; which was an unspoken menace her department was also supposed to combat.When political infighting oozed out into open law enforcement corruption cases, it hurt the State of Arkansas economically by making their home ground look less attractive to external investment and the ever-important tourist dollar. Part of a weekend with access to Big Bob's and the Mayor's daughters suddenly became very attractive to this half-Creole (US Coast Guard Officer on her mother's side) / half-Greek (her father was a Merchant Marine Captain); originally from Louisiana; law officer .She'd come to Arkansas for UA (University of Arkansas) Sociology and Criminal Justice program and stayed to pursue a career in state law enforcement plus a LLM (Master of Law) from her alma mater on the road to joining the Department of Homeland Security working cases involving international law. Yep; ambitious beyond the norm.She chose an electric blue one piece; which was nothing but string from behind; very cheeky and what she claimed was the only suit in her size available on such short notice. I thought my brothers and I should pay homage to the Swimsuit Goddesses, if that was the true, because Sgt. Louisa was truly luscious.Of course, 14 to 1 odds was asking a lot of anyone so Big Bob had wrangled (rather easily) a supporting chaperone, my Mother (‘ah shit' was Mikhail's heartfelt and instantaneous reaction upon seeing her). She wasn't the primary chaperone because, as Big Bob told Ms. Louisa; ‘she's 100% loyal, brave and true, but 100% bat-shit crazy too.' Perfectly succinct and it rhymed.Mom; ugh; wore a red and white skimpy one-piece with a 'required' blue-with-one-white-star-over-each-breast bikini top. Very; umm; patriotic? Mom had a tight, lean-muscled physique. I had no doubt she was the most deceptively lethal human being present; in both age groups; and that included the people who knew she was crazy.Because the AHP Sergeant wasn't part of the Kingston/Davis County shit-storm, Mom felt safe secretly inviting two other women to this shindig. The first came so they could be seen publically feuding (by the cheerleaders) while they actually spent time building up a rapport. Mom was being asked to put aside a truckload of hate she'd been clutching to her bosom for over twenty years toward Dominique Fox Malik's husband, father and brother.For Dominique, she'd been raised on hating the Fonteneau in general and Gayle for 'lying' about the rape Mom had gone through (at the hands of 7 Black young men when she was fifteen) and Theo, her twin, for putting her brother in a coma he was still in all these years later. They'd hated one another by association longer than I'd been alive and now were trying to put their bile 'high on the back shelf' for their children's sake.Sure, Mom was tossing money and political clout Dominique's way, but the offer would never had been made and absolutely never accepted if Taliyah and Mikhail hadn't been so deeply and truly

in this episode we catch up about the holidays, answer some of your questions and experience something so insane at the end of the pod my god...a good omen but im tellin you freaky things have been happening around hereSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Music Room.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.  ‘My, oh my,' Taliyah murmured. She had felt the two Samsonov boys pressing in on her, Mikhail behind her and Vlad to the front. She hoped she had them right. With her heart racing and her fervor rising, she wasn't 100% sure. ‘Mikhail,' she looked over her shoulder as she moved her ass up and down his crotch, ‘this is only for you.' Her declaration was in a throaty moan.‘That's unfair,' I chuckled to Taliyah.‘Don't worry,' her head tilted up, ‘I know some tricks Brandy doesn't know.' I didn't know if that was true, or not. Finding out would be fun. I kissed her on the lips. At the same time, my brother nipped down on her shirt-covered shoulder.‘Don't be cruel,' he teased her. ‘You know he was sneaking peeks at the lodge.'‘My body; my rules,' Taliyah insisted somewhat breathlessly.‘Okay. I'll work on changing your mind,' I growled before diving in for another kiss. Our tongues battled. Taliyah placed her hands on either side of my chin, taking control of our passion. In doing so, I sensed her reticence quickly passing.‘Y'alls first time with one girl?' she purred when we came up for air. She knew it was, so I was left trying to figure out her game.For Taliyah this was a totally new experience too. The sense she had such a level of control over the masculine power encompassing her was dizzying. She hated to admit it, but looking into Vlad's eyes felt nice. His gaze was focused on her. His perceptions were seeking out her reactions and her responses, not still hooked on Brandy.In the back of her mind had been the gnawing fear she was a substitute fuck; a Brandy-surrogate in Vlad's mind. She saw none of that. His attention was eating her up and it made her so fucking hot. Even more thrilling: she was soaked, breathing heavy and trembling; and they all three still had their damn clothes on!Taliyah's fingers began fumbling with my belt.‘We've got time,' I stroked her cheek. I caught a quick signal from Mikhail. We both dove down for opposite sides of her neck, suckling, licking and nibbling on her tense muscles from collar to ear lobe. In the process, I managed to pull her shirt out of her skirt; she got my belt buckle undone. Synching our oral attacks with working our shoes off with foot-action alone, we then went straight to loosening our belts and; front first (aka me); yanked off our jeans and underwear in one brutal maneuver.‘Ah,' Taliyah gasped as my lips and tongue played along the crux of her windpipe and chin, ‘you two practice that much?'‘Yeah,' Mikhail chortled. ‘We do.'Taliyah's hand on my shoulders caused me to bring about a pause in our actions.‘Seriously?' she looked over her shoulder at my vigorous triplet.‘Why would I make up something so bizarre?' was his take on things. I could tell Taliyah 'wanted' to know more. But she simply wanted more of us both right now and figured she could interrogate us about our unusual sexual indoctrination later; post-coitus. They began kissing and their kisses became an oral battle replete with growls, rumbles and other hungry sounds.I took the distraction to rapidly unbutton Taliyah's shirt, pull it open and; Lord Hallelujah!; she had on a front-opening bra; and unleash her 'puppies'. I had talked about her preferences with neither Mikhail nor Brandy, but I'd witnessed and rewound (hey, I'm 18 years old) the footage of the lakeside orgy enough times to know she liked her nipples played with.‘Uh; uh; uh; ah; ‘ the dark-skinned beauty moaned. ‘Are you two telepathic?' she said in response to our hands reaching inside her panties and moving along her vulva and perineum, coming at her from different directions at the same time. I wasn't quite sure what inspired us; I put my thumb upon her aroused clit; it felt almost the size of the first digit of my pinkie; and reached around to insert my ring finger against her sphincter.At the same time, Mikhail was working his thumb up her bunghole and rubbing his forefinger into her vagina. She was already wet and getting wetter by the second. By the oily texture of my brother's digits, he'd somehow snuck some lubricant on them while our partner was distracted.The combination of our height differentials, our ministrations and her obvious pleasure forced my brother and I to go to our knees.‘Oh God! I need a picture of this,' Taliyah exulted. ‘Both of you on your knees around me.'‘I promise,' I looked up, ‘we'll do this again.'‘You'd better,' she beamed, looking down at me, wreathed in a cocktail of majesty and carnality. She added to that image by cupping her left breast into a mouth-watering mound. No words were necessary. I licked the rich, dark brown areola before latching onto her stubby, darker nipple. My thumb and finger were working in tandem with Mikhail's over her cunt and anus to bring her to fruition.Taliyah was struggling to keep it together. She fed her other breast to Vlad who attentively latched on and began applying a tantalizing level of suction which was driving her wild.‘Cut loose, Babe,' Mikhail whispered into her ear. He was rising back to his feet at the same time his right hand began to furiously frig her.She shot him a foul look over her shoulder.'As if he can tell me what and when I can; ' she thought to herself.‘We are in a soundproof room for a reason,' he grinned. She sensed the connection. He wasn't out to steal anything from her. Her lover was famished for even more of her sensuality and that desire was showing through. Taliyah looked heavenward; and then Howled!Emptiness Fourth Period Bell.Sultana Berry stumbled into the front of the room first. We were on our knees; Mikhail had his back to the newcomers, Taliyah was on all-fours with Mikhail doing her cunt from behind while she was giving me yet another blowjob. I was looking right at Sultana and the other cheerleaders as they entered.‘I hope this doesn't take too long,' Sultana got out, ‘because I'd; ‘ and her head turned from looking over her shoulder at her fellow cheerleaders in the hallway to the three of us a dozen feet away.‘Holy Shit!' she exclaimed.‘What?' wondered Randi Leigh who was right behind Sultana. Before she could comment, Alondra Lamb, stumbled in, with Brandy herding her and Betty Jo Starling ahead of her. ‘Oh fuck,' gasped Randi Leigh, her surprise turning quickly vindictive, ‘Brandy, your guy seems to be fucking your best friend.'Alondra scanned around seeking direction. Sultana's eyes flicked to Brandy before latching back onto my 'midsection' as Taliyah unleashed my cock from her lips allowing it to sort of sway there; hypnotically.‘'Bout time you got here,' Taliyah slurred happily to Brandy. ‘I'm tapping out.'With that, she slouched down on her left side, head resting on her biceps, serene smile on her face. Earlier we'd spread out the piano cover so we didn't have to deal with the much colder floor. Even as Mikhail let her down gently, his tool came free with a loud 'plop!', revealing its rock-hard, 'full mast' status.‘Hey Brandy, what is Randi Leigh doing here?' I beamed lust-filled affection at my girlfriend. ‘I thought you said she wasn't invited.' According to my Mother (the Evil Psychic Mistress of Misdirection), insinuating to one girl another woman didn't want you close by 'her man' made her want to get close to you. It didn't make much sense to me, but then what did I know about women? Sure enough, Randi Leigh shot Brandy an evil look.Mikhail extended his sweaty body over Taliyah, planted a few feather-light kisses on her shoulder and ear then rose up, right leg first. He quarter-turned their way.‘Alondra,' he emoted wolfishly. The smoky hot young lady blinked in surprise then pointed to herself as if to affirm she was the one he was talking to; as if there was another Alondra in this High School. There wasn't.‘Come here,' he beckoned her with a finger.‘Me?' she gulped.‘I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you,' Mikhail rumbled.‘Me?' she repeated. Alondra wasn't going to win any debates with that level of verbal repertoire.‘Hold on now,' Sultana interposed herself, facing her ladies. Her mistake was taking her eyes off my brother.‘But I think he needs help getting dressed,' Alondra tried to explain. How cute.‘Brandy, what's going on here?' Sultana was looking past Alondra to the Team Co-Captain. Mikhail snuck up on Sultana quickly and quietly. I was right behind him. Randi Leigh was trying to get Sultana's attention. Too late. He moved straight into Sultana's back, driving her face to face with Alondra.‘So you think you are better than Taliyah, do you?' he breathed into Sultana's ear. She recoiled as much as she could, putting a weak elbow into his ribs. She was only partially effective in turning around. For my part, I slipped around them and went directly into Randi Leigh's personal space. Take into account both my brother and I were naked, glistening with sweat, and highly aroused;‘Randi Leigh (apparently middle names were important in cases such as this), why doesn't Brandy want you and I hanging out?' I lied.‘I never said that,' Brandy protested. If someone I had known for more than half my life told me one thing and a near-stranger told me the opposite, I would believe the person I knew well. Mom insisted Randi wouldn't believe Brandy;‘Sure you didn't,' Randi Leigh simmered while reaching down and wrapping a hand around my cock. She gave me a little yank. ‘Not bad.'‘Get off me!' Sultana demanded of Mikhail. She got her wish. Mikhail moved her aside and went after Alondra. He astonished everyone by cupping the chestnut-complexioned girl's jaw romantically in both hands and placing a kiss on her lips.‘Fucking fantastic,' he purred, then went in pursuit of a far more brutal and demanding lip-lock which took hostage the air from deep within Alondra's lungs.‘Hey,' Sultana protested. ‘Stop that.' She tried to separate my brother from his prey. Alondra complicated the issue by entwining one arm behind his head and the other around his waist, keeping him close. Wanton moans echoed from her unfathomed sensual core.Randi Leigh drank in the scene.‘I'm Rashaan's girl now,' she grinned up at me, hand still on my rod.‘I'm not going to tell him a damn thing,' I looked down at her. My left hand went along her right elbow to her shoulder all friendly-like. When Randi Leigh didn't resist, I moved my right from her hip to her ass and began bringing her close.‘I'm not going to fuck you,' her lips insisted at the same time her hand began jacking me off. ‘I don't do White guys.'‘Does cunnilingus count?' I whispered into her ear.‘Ah; ‘ she murmured. ‘Maybe not,' she finished off with a foxy grin of her own.I could begin to see the calculations going off behind those eyes. Perhaps; just perhaps; there was a reason Brandy had risked Darius' wrath to fuck me; on multiple occasions. I let my hand on her ass creep to her cleft.‘Clothes,' I teased her; as she had me on too many occasions. Meanwhile;‘Brandy?' Sultana looked to the functioning Co-Captain for intervention. Brandy had already kicked off her tennis shoes and was currently stripping down out of her jeans and panties. She was also still by the door. Only later would I realize it was because she'd sent Misty Dawn and Betty Jo Starling to escort a semi-crippled Alexander here and the door was locked, so they would need to be let in; thus necessitating her remaining close to the door.Brandy's allies on the squad, Noémie and Amber Lee, were keeping three 'opposing' cheerleaders (Vantrice, Mia and Pearl) preoccupied this lunch period. Dealing with five new cheerleaders would be stressing the three of us guys to our limits. In theory, I guessed that meant we'd pick those other five off later in the week, or on Saturday at Brandy's house.‘Taliyah and I can't keep up with these three,' Brandy exaggerated. ‘I was hoping y'all could help out this one time. Please?'‘But; ‘ Sultana sputtered. I was willing to bet 'they're White' almost spilled forth. But she spared another look to the sexually sated Taliyah instead.‘By all means, leave my Man alone,' Taliyah threatened, then yawned, stretching out like a savannah lioness. ‘I'll leave you Rashaan.'According to Mom, that wasn't an offer, it was a challenge; for Sultana to go after Mikhail. To my naïve way of thinking, he could have made it easier by switching his attention from Alondra to Sultana, who was the more dominant woman anyway. Not only was that 'not' Mikhail, it wasn't what a man did if he wanted a woman's interest. We; the men; had to play hard to get.I'd told Mom I preferred honesty. She'd told me to keep my preferences to myself and do what I was told; and I would somehow end up happier. I truly believe my Mom loves me, so I went along with her madcap advice. It worked gang-busters. The more Mikhail persisted in focusing on Alondra, the harder Sultana worked on enticing and seducing him; because he was a bastard?In comparison, I had it easier. Brandy was clearly horny for me and Randi Leigh got off on thwarting Brandy's lusts by corralling my attentions with her body motions. The more frustrated Brandy became, the more Randi Leigh's inhibitions flew out the window. She had me on my back, hand still on my cock as she guided it into her steamy folds in under two minutes. Putting on a condom? 'No time for that,' or so she claimed. Funny. I thought we had fifty minutes.Here I was feeling bad about leaving Brandy out and here she was with her triumphant smile from over Randi Leigh's shoulder. She had totally suckered Randi Leigh and me with her passionate resistance. She mouthed 'I love you' before scampering off to get the door. Alexander, Misty Dawn and Betty Jo had arrived.Under anything approaching normal group dynamics, at least one of the young ladies could have been expected to bolt this unusual erotic encounter; however the Cheer Squad was used to their Lunch Time and post-Practice orgies. In the immediate post-Darius Era, they hadn't been getting any and suddenly they had three hunky, hot and ready (even if White) guys in front of them, willing to perform.Alexander had it the easiest. He was 'infirm', so Misty Dawn decided to transfer all the gratitude she had for me not getting into a slugfest with Cousin Buck in the Parking Lot this morning to him, thus lavishing him with some intense, solo loving care. Betty Jo, momentarily at loose ends, was called over to Mikhail by Alondra, who insisted she was still trying to get him dressed;If Mikhail felt any reticence over reliving the sexual exploits of his Varangian ancestors, he didn't show it in the slightest. He soon had Alondra and Betty Jo kneeling with their haunches on their heels, licking his balls and cock-shaft while Sultana stood by his side, kissing him longingly as he massaged her pubic mound; no penetration yet. It took me a few seconds to realize he was teasing her; plus, he was able to pat the kneeling lasses on their heads when they particularly pleased him. What a fortuitous pig.I didn't have the time to verbally chastise him. As I began to work in and out of Randi Leigh's love box, twisting my hips during every intrusion, looking to increase her stimulations, she began to get really responsive and incredibly vocal. The combination of the 'aphrodisiacs' Mom had given us, plus my interrupted blowjob with Taliyah, prompted me to begin ejaculating into her womb. Whoops!‘Ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh --ugh-ugh-uh-uh-ug!' escaped from her lips and then she went off like no woman I'd ever seen before. Randi Leigh was acting as if she was having a seizure. Her long, brunette hair, normally in a ponytail, but worn loose today, whipped around her head as she thrashed and jerked atop of me. Fingernails drew bloody rivets across my pectorals as her hands scarred me from collar to mid-stomach.Her mahogany skin (she was White, but well-tanned) was more flushed than normal, her small nipples were a bright crimson within her rich reddish-brown half-dollar-sized areolas equally blood-flushed and puff. Her breathing came in staggered gasps. Then she completely locked up perpendicular to my waist, back bowed and her face finally ending up staring down at me in disbelief.All I could think of, looking back up at her, trying to make sense of the electricity spreading like fire through her veins was; 'if you figure out what I just did to you, please let me know what it was; because I may want to be more careful who I do it to in the future'.‘Uwee; ‘ escaped from her tightly constricted airways right before Randi Leigh's eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on my chest, utterly spent.‘Brandy?' I looked past the unconscious woman on my chest toward my vastly more experienced lover. She looked stunned. The rest of the room was quiet.‘I think; that was Randi Leigh; having an orgasm,' Brandy gasped.‘You go, Bro!' Mikhail saluted me, slamming his closed-fist over his heart; twice. With the way the three women were looking at him, he should have been more careful. I suspected they were expecting the same treatment.‘Are you sure you are okay with having sex?' Misty Dawn inquired of Alexander, even as she started yanking his pants down.‘For you; sure. I'll get my belt,' he gently caressed her cheek, ‘if you could get my shoes?'I had to push Randi Leigh up, then maneuver us around so I could carry the still blissfully unaware Randi Leigh to the piano cover to be lain beside Taliyah before returning my attentions to Brandy. I caught sight of some worry in her eyes until she realized my eyes were nearly bugged out of my head and my cock was throbbing upright and returning to duty; her completely naked body had that effect on me.‘Oh,' she giggled. ‘You're hurt.'‘It'll heal,' I ignored the pain. We met halfway. My hands went to her right breast and left face cheek to steer her head up to a kiss. Hers went to my cock; still no condom. So much for 'safe' sex.‘Ladies, Sultana's going to ruin our fun, so I gotta take care of her first before I can get back to the both of you,' Mikhail boasted.‘You think so?' Sultana Berry put forth with provocative bravado.‘Yeah,' Mikhail snorted. ‘Alondra and Betty Jo like me, so I'd like to spend some quality time with them. You'd like to think you are better than me, but we both know you aren't. So I'm about to prove it to you.'Seriously? Isn't this the moment the woman slaps the man in the face, throws a drink at him, calls him an 'asshole' (or something even less flattering), then storms out?‘I'm going to ruin you for every other women you ever try to get with,' Sultana rose to the challenge.Okay then;‘If she wasn't such a bitch,' Brandy whispered to me as she followed me to the floor, her riding me cowgirl, ‘I'd warn her.'All I could do was grunt.‘What was that?' Brandy's brow furrowed and her cute nose twitched.Had my Mother not told me this would happen; scary and far beyond weird; I would have thought I was doing something wrong. This was Brandy seeking affirmation.‘You; above me; every time it is so wonderful and new, Brandy Crystal Carson,' I replied in a soft, rich romantic voice. Just because I knew the question was coming, didn't mean I'd rehearsed a response. I went with my gut and by Brandy's near-tearful reaction, I was right on the money. Brandy leaned in, squishing her breasts against me and gave me a famished kiss.‘I feel the same way,' she murmured.‘You like blonde-haired girls with big boobs sitting on top of you too?' I joked.‘Oh,' she sat up, feigning indignation well, ‘Poo!' then she smacked my chest. Then, to further punish me, she flexed her thighs; going up and down; and undulated her vaginal walls; to give my cock a very friendly 'welcome back'.'Yikes!' Man, but that felt really good. Brandy clued in to my pleasure and was looking a bit too pleased with herself, so I pushed up with one arm and went like a lamprey for her right breast.‘Hey!' she gasped. ‘Not so rough.' Which meant 'keep at it'. ‘I said not so rough, Vlad. I'm a bit tender,' she sighed happily, reinforcing her misdirection by placing a hand on the back of my head, keeping my lips and teeth tight to her tit.'Nom-nom-nom-nom,' I happily suckled along for six, or seven minutes until;‘Hey y'all,' Alondra appeared above me/us. ‘Can I join in?'Reluctantly I released Brandy's mammary to get a quick peek at what Mikhail was up to.He was going for some hot-muff action on Sultana where she lay on top of the piano, which was, in turn, on the elevated stage. Her legs were upraised in a 'V' with her hands holding the back of each knee to hold the pose. My brother was alternating between kisses to her clit and slit and teasing her labia with his tongue and teeth; gentle-like for now. When he figured out her sensitive spots, he'd be doubling down on them rapid-fire soon enough.‘Unless my Princess claws me like a scratching post; Hell ya!' I grinned. That was a concession to my Lady's #1 status without making me sound cunt-whipped. Brandy gave a playful harrumph married to her own saucy smile. The problem was;‘Princess? Who is that?' Alondra struggled to concentrate.‘Me,' Brandy seductively wiggled off my cock. ‘He's my Prince, so I'm his Princess.'‘Oh! Like Disney?' Alondra beamed innocent understanding. ‘That's so cool.'‘Yeah,' Brandy shot me a wink. ‘Like Disney. Here, have a seat and share in the 'magic'.'‘Oh goodie!' the tawny athlete mounted my cock which Brandy was 'kind' enough to hold erect for her. She wasn't tight, but, to be honest, Alondra was snugger than my first time with Brandy; which was a thought I'd take to my grave. Her toes were on the floor, knees off the ground, gymnast's thighs like coiled springs and hands splayed on my chest; she got to bounding up and down.‘Yay!' At least I was making someone definitely happy. When I made eye contact; I; felt for Alondra. She had one; no; two marketable commodities; her exotic good looks and a willingness to work hard. Cheerleading was as much of a demanding sport as basketball. She knew the Cheer Squad's routines, and with her limited intellect, that had to mean she truly applied herself when given the chance.What Alondra needed was good friends; and someone, right now, to fuck her.‘I've never fucked a White guy before,' she blithely informed me. ‘I thought you'd be; smaller.'‘Vlad is full of surprises,' Brandy moved to my side, still smiling.‘Don't let me neglect you, Babe,' I offered. She knew what I was saying and took me up on the suggesting.She made a production of standing over my head, facing Alondra then slowly lowering herself down to my waiting mouth.‘How's he going to breath?' Alondra inquired.‘He's got great lungs,' Brandy answered. My tongue was busy sculpting out her vulva and penetrating her labia.My right hand went around the back to massage a luscious ass cheek and tickler her along her tailbone. Then the left went up and rediscovered her breasts. I could almost hate my Mother for keeping us from sex for so long; almost. To be fair, she'd also helped train us to be aggressive, appreciative and attentive lovers.It wasn't like the BBC Masters didn't do cunnilingus. Some did. The difference was we approached it as a facet of a full-on orgasmic orchestra. It wasn't just licking and sucking that clit, or labia pulling. Depending on the partner, it was spreading your attention along the upper thighs, pubic mound perineum and buttocks.Fingers, lips, tongue, nose and even whiskers could be parts of our arsenals. Keep all your senses focused on your lover as well. A twinge, chance in scent, or a stifled gasp could all be clues to what secretly turned them on. Thankfully for this encounter, I already knew Brandy pretty well and Alondra wasn't overly demanding. She wanted a nice, stiff cock and I gave her that in spades; no pun intended.‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,' Sultana began hissing. Taliyah had done wonders for Mikhail's confidence which rebounded into this pattern of quickly overwhelming whatever mental defenses she tried to put up between him and the climax he wished to tear from her.‘Oh Fuck!' she screamed. Yep. Mom's choice of the sound-proof Music Room was prescient.‘Oh; ‘ she moaned. ‘Wait; ‘‘No way,' Mikhail taunted her. ‘I'm not going to stop until you say you'll only do White boys.' Pretty much a complete race reversal, and cruelly pointless.‘Not going to; Oh Fuck!' she began to caterwaul again. I couldn't see what he was doing, but by the sound of moist slapping, I figured he had advanced to screwing her face-to-face and furiously hard.‘What's going on?' Randi Leigh finally rejoined the gathering.‘He fucked you into transcendence, you silly Cunt,' Taliyah mocked the girl.‘I; ah; it wasn't; ‘ Randi Leigh blathered.‘Don't even try,' Taliyah chuckled.‘By all means,' I could feel Brandy twist her upper body around, ‘if you never want to fuck my guy ever again; ‘‘Or mine,' Taliyah tacked on.‘Any of the Samsonov boys ever again,' Brandy dictated, ‘that's fine by me; us.'‘That's damn right,' Taliyah added.‘Oh; I'm getting all tingly,' Alondra sang out.‘When is it going to be my turn?' I had no doubt Betty Jo was pouting over her exclusion by Mikhail's devotion to Sultana.‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,' became a familiar refrain. ‘Oh Fuck!' and Sultana surrendered another orgasm to my bratty younger triplet. ‘No; ‘ she panted.‘Don't break her,' Taliyah sounded a tad jealous as well as cautionary.‘Say it,' he growled.‘Ah; ‘ was all Sultana could emote.‘Say it,' he remained ferocious. I felt obliged to tap Brandy's thigh. She was closing on her own fruition, but I wasn't sure Sultana had the time.‘Give it a rest,' Alexander protested.Brandy dismounted. Mikhail hadn't relented yet.‘Bro, Alondra's over here; dying for a three-way,' I tried a different approach. I wasn't going to swap out Alondra for Betty Jo; that would be treating the ladies like mix-and-match Legos. Betty Jo was still the only girl-neglected, but I knew from our earlier conversation Mikhail had a special hankering for Alondra; which I couldn't bring up directly without being cruel to Taliyah.Mikhail looked over his shoulder, his body still hovering over the slack form of a sated Sultana. His look was volcanic; primal, fiery;‘We aren't done,' was his parting shot to Sultana. Betty Jo was still on her knees where he'd left her. Mikhail didn't spare her a glance, advancing swiftly to us.Meanwhile;‘I do? I am?' Alondra hiccupped both surprised and happy with 'her' suggestion.For a second I was afraid Mikhail would go directly for a face-fuck. Alondra was certainly set up for it. Instead, at the last second he went in for a deep French kiss full of tongue, mutual nose-breathing and finishing with his teeth pulling playfully on her upper lip.‘I'm bouncing on your brother,' Alondra gleefully, breathlessly and pointlessly related.‘I can see,' he chuckled. My youngest triplet didn't have to be an asshole. ‘I think I'm going to be pouncing on you.'Alondra had no comeback. My bet was she didn't know what 'pounce' meant. Mikhail moved behind the medium-brown beauty. It occurred to me the deeply-tanned Brandy and natural-complexioned Alondra were virtually the same skin color.Otherwise they were different enough. Brandy was a natural blonde. Alondra had kinky, black hair with blonde highlights. One with dark-blue eyes and the other hazel. Alondra was taller by a few inches. Brandy had the larger bust and hips. Alondra's buttocks were accentuated to the top while Brandy's were more balanced hemispheres. I couldn't tell whose smile I liked more.‘I like White boys,' she huffed as a way of greeting Mikhail's transition from 'kisser' to man-boy pressing in behind her. There was no way he was going for her ass without causing her a great deal of pain. He had another idea.‘Seesaw?' he looked over her shoulder. Oh!I put my hands under each of her thighs and lifted her up and forward.‘Eep!' she squeaked followed by ‘Hey; No,' when my cock popped out.‘Here you go,' Mikhail soothed her. In his cock went.‘Oh yeah,' she was immediately mollified.‘Why does she get two of them?' Betty Jo complained.‘Yeah,' Randi Leigh grumbled. ‘Why does she get both of them?'‘Because she asked really, really nice,' Mikhail addressed the others. Brandy shot me a curious look. Since she had her back to the others I felt it was safe to share my own confusion.‘When did that happen?' Taliyah pseudo-teased 'us'.At the same time, Alondra rocked forward. When she settled back, it was my cock inside her once more. Taliyah had gotten dual-vaginal and anal after we had 'prepped' her.‘We're telepathic,' Mikhail responded. Alondra didn't care.‘You'd better not be,' Taliyah muttered.Yeah, we had to do something about this. The next time we switched back, I pulled myself further up and away from Alondra. Mikhail picked up on my clues and went to regular doggy-style, his back pressing on hers, his left arm supporting his weight while his right reached under and began to manipulate her clit between two of his fingers in a tender, circular motion.‘Ah-ah-ah Shit!,' Misty Dawn announced her own eruption to all of us. It turned out she and Alexander shared their 'moment'; their synergy further multiplying their sensory overload.I had barely moved into a kneeling position in front of Alondra. We kissed which left me rather unprepared for;‘Now it's my turn,' Betty Jo pushed Brandy aside in her rush to grapple with me. Oh Joy!Mom and Dominique.‘Ms. Malik, there is a Mrs. Samsonov here to see you,' Riley buzzed Madam Mayor. Dominique bit down on her anger; and fear. Chinedu had been so plastered, he couldn't properly remember the events of the previous evening clearly and Taliyah hadn't felt the need to remind him. None of that erased the feel of the middle Samsonov boy's; everything, or the wrongness of those actions.Chief of Police Quinterre had yet to slither through her doorway, though that was something she had to prepare for. The beating Alexander (she wasn't fooled by whatever deception Gayle Fonteneau/Samsonov had perpetrated) took at school had been both troubling and welcome; since it served as a major distraction to 'that night'.Darius'; destruction had been a peal of thunder after Alexander's beating. Now the Arkansas State Police were nosing around and her 'mole' inside the Davis County Sheriff's Department had become reticent to supply her with useful information.‘Tell Mrs. Samsonov I don't have room in my schedule today. Perhaps she can avail herself of our city's website, or attempt an e-mail,' Dom answered.‘She says she'll wait,' Riley replied.'Ah shit; that bitch'; ‘Fine. I will give her five minutes in; thirty.'‘Yes Ma'am,' Riley sang out.Dominique frowned. Riley appeared 'upbeat'. Which black snake was pounding her fat ass and cunt now? Damn it; one more unexpected headache. Thirty minutes rolled around and Gayle hadn't departed like any sane individual would, so Riley showed her in.‘Riley, you can go,' Dom dismissed her White 'Political Assistant'.Riley kept smiling like a fool.‘Yes Ms. Malik,' the girl nodded.‘See you this evening, Riley,' Gayle smiled. Riley's smile deepened into something definitely sensual. Dominique was going to have to school her Jew Ass again. Spending time with Gayle Fonteneau was the opposite of helping out.‘Hi Dom,' Gayle settled into the seat across from Dominique.‘Call me Madam Mayor,' Dom bit back. ‘What do you want?' Gayle's grin turned into a vicious leer. ‘And leave Riley alone, damn you.'‘I was curious if Chinedu's sagging black ball sack has become a suitably dark shade of blue; I see from the look of his two main whores, they have,' Gayle chuckled.‘Bitch,' Dom seethed. ‘What do you; think you have on me?'‘Not a damn thing,' Gayle kept chortling. Dom was more convinced than ever the evil harlot had lost her damn mind. ‘Welcome to dealing with decent human beings, Dom. My boys didn't tell me a fucking thing. They certainly didn't gather any footage of supposed misdeeds.'Dom processed what she was and wasn't being told.<

Approved Affection.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Brandy was unlocking the door when I put a hand on her elbow and strongly turned her around. Frustration morphed into confusion and blossomed into happiness as I exacted my promised minute make-out session. Even a colossal distraction as big as the Mayor's family implosion wouldn't keep me from my Brandy-time.Big Bob 'caught' us at it. The door had been opened and the AC was exiting the front door.‘Hands above the belt-line, Mr. Samsonov,' he grumbled in a friendly manner.‘Daddy,' Brandy pouted to her Papa. ‘He's behaving himself.'‘Are you behaving yourself around my daughter?' the Sheriff quizzed me.‘Sir, I'd rather go directly to the 500 hours of community service than answer that question; Sir,' I replied. Big Bob snorted. Brandy rolled her eyes, gave me one last peck then glided past her patriarch.‘I haven't see her that happy in a long time,' Big Bob spoke softly. ‘Whatever you are doing, be a gentleman about it.'‘Ugh; I'll do my best Sheriff Carson, but it's difficult,' I groaned. Bob laughed at me and my 'agony'.‘Take care, Vlad,' he gave one final nod before closing the door. I made a quick call to Mom to update her to our change in plans. Mikhail had beaten me to the punch. She understood I had to hand-off Brandy first, no harm / no foul. She asked me to hang out at Dominque's place for a while because she knew Mr. Malik was a devious, lying rat-bastard and believed he would sweet talk his daughter into letting him back into his wife's proximity.I mulled over handing her the Malik family secret. I trusted Mom. More to the point, I trusted her to respect my decision to want that tidbit handled with care. No cops harassed me on the return trip. I had taken a circuitous route to be on the safe side. The Police Chief might be the Mayor's ally, or he might be a BBC devotee and have a Brutha solidarity moment with Chinedu too.According to their methodology, once he gave her that cock, she'd forgive every other indiscretion. True or not, I was going to try and cock-block that maneuver. I didn't have a plan when I arrived. Something immediately presented itself to me in the form of a Candy Apple Red 2014 Jaguar F Type V8 S convertible.Daddy, or Sugar-Daddy was way generous to the tune of one hundred grand; that was for damn sure. The billow red mane topping that curvaceous frame was a clear indicator the shit was going to hit the fan at the Malik household. Chine was her BBC addiction, but the Mayor was her boss and political mentor.The look she sent me was fearful over her general situation and one of only passing interest, a look I was becoming familiar with. She was yet another hot, sexy piece of filet mignon that didn't fuck White guys. Groan.‘Who are you?' she was polite enough, possibly seeking to delay the upcoming confrontation.‘I'm Vladimir Samsonov, junior Prince of Evil and I'm here to talk with your boss; she's expecting me,' dispelled her protest that the Mayor was too busy for me.‘Riley Pasternak,' she smiled. ‘I don't recognize the accent,' she added as I passed her. She let me ring the doorbell too.Statuesque and voluptuous; that is what I would call Riley. Burnished coppery hair, thick and glossy flowed in waves down to the middle of her back. Well defined brows of a slightly lighter but no less fiery color framed her oval face and enhanced her verdant eyes, pale freckled skin and flushed cheeks.The makeup she chose didn't really enhance her features which said she didn't wear it that often and the scar above her brow confirmed that she was a tomboy.She dressed to be seen, but also to move in whatever capacity needed. The push up black halter was a strong contrast to her pale skin and plumped up her already impressive cleavage.Below it she wore almost too tight hip huggers that had her lush belly just barely spilling over the waistband. Right above said waistband on the back of her hip was a tattoo that red ‘Red Wolf Bitch' for the Arkansas State Mascot. A second one was teasingly just out of sight on the front of the other hip.Drawing away just a bit from the sexy outfit were all the hippie doodles on her pants. It looked as if she'd let a five year old color on them before she put them on, the neon colors seeming to jump off the denim. She completed the ensemble with cork wedges and a tiny red purse hanging by an equally tiny red string from her shoulder.‘I'm from Alaska,' I let her know. The door flew open in seconds, revealing a tumultuous Dominque who slipped on a semi-civil mask when she saw me.‘Vlad, I thought you were going to stop by your place before coming back for your brother,' she addressed me. ‘Ms. Pasternak, get in here,' she was more abrupt with her 'underling'.I stepped aside to let Riley pass. I hadn't been invited in. Dominque took my actions into account.‘Come in Vlad. Go find your brother. I'll talk to you later,' she said.‘Well,' I began once I stepped in, ‘I think I'd be of more use sticking with you.'Dominque slammed the door behind me.‘I won't need you with me,' she corrected me.‘I'm not staying to help you,' I corrected her. ‘I'm staying to make sure Ms. Pasternak doesn't come to some misfortune.' The Mayor didn't seem pleased.‘What does he mean?' Riley looked from her Boss to me.‘Go, Vlad,' she commanded. I was a guest in her home. Barring extenuating circumstances, I was taught to behave.‘Well, nice to see you again, Ms. Pasternak,' I regarded my fellow guest. Off I went, listening for sounds of my brother and Taliyah. I was almost out of sight;‘Where have we met before?' Riley worried.‘Go, Vlad,' my hostess repeated. I kept going.‘The Cineplex two weeks ago,' I said over my shoulder. ‘The Purge: Anarchy.'‘Oh God,' she moaned. ‘V; Vlad is it; please don't leave.'I reversed course. Dominique could tell that ordering me about at this point was useless. The same instinct which had placed me between Chine and her was placing me between her and Riley.‘You fucked him,' Madame Mayor fumed. ‘Worse, you let him fuck you in a public place you; simple-minded bimbo.'‘Listen Mrs. Malik; it; I; he was insistent,' Riley back-pedaled into a wall.‘And you happened to forget he was my husband?' Dominque seethed. I had to admit she looked rather volcanic, her ass, hips and boobs trembling with repressed energy as she got ready to erupt. I maneuvered so I flanked them both, ready to interpose myself if necessary.‘How many times, Riley?' I posed the question. ‘How many times did the two of you hook up?'‘Four, five,' she reconsidered her response. Dominique looked ready to explode. She mastered herself with a great effort of will.‘What is going to happen when your Grandfather, that racist Jew Bastard, finds out you are back to banging big black bucks, Again?' she threatened. Riley blanched. ‘He threatened to disown you last time. This time, he'll do it, Princess. Then you will be nothing more than another in a long line of chunky Cocoa Puff's. No car, no apartment and damn, I'll make sure you don't have a job anymore.'‘Reggie won't; ‘ she protested desperately.‘Whore, you are only fun to be around because your fat ass is forbidden fruit. Senator Murdoch can get a dozen fresher Betties to haul his coal.' I'd go to Mom to explain the jargon flying around. ‘I know for a fact he likes them young.''Betty's' were White chicks. 'Hauling coal' meant taking black dick. Why couldn't people just say that instead of confusing everything with racial slurs? Riley's reaction showed she was playing into that fear; no fortune and no more choice selections of BBC's.‘Umm; ‘ Riley flickered her eyes my way.‘Chinedu already spilled all this secrets,' Dominique lied. She'd spilled them in her rage, but these two women lying and cheating wasn't my primary concern; taking advantage of their wickedness was. ‘He has his own reasons for keeping quiet.' Riley glanced speculatively from me to Dominique.‘Ha,' Madame Mayor snorted in derision. ‘I don't do White boys.' Oh, that deserved some hard fucking; screw the bitch. I was considering what derogatory idiocy was going to vomit forth from my mouth when Riley's phone rang. Absently she pulled it out of her purse. She paled when she saw the caller ID. Dom snatched it away then trembled.I took it out of her hands before she could make Riley eat the device.‘Both of you keep quiet,' I demanded. I answered the phone.‘Baby-cakes, let's hook up tonight,' Mr. Malik oozed his masculine charisma. ‘I feel like stepping out and I want to see you on your knees worshipping my award-winning Arkansas Black Snake, you cock-hungry slut.'He was loud enough so that both women could hear. I pointed a warning finger in Riley's face.‘Sorry, Mr. Baker, but Riley can't come to the phone right now. She's choking down my Slavic salami, but; after I finish with her and your wife, I'll send the tramp back your way; if she can still walk.'‘Wa, huh, wha, Who? Samsonov?, what did you just say?' he blathered.‘I'm kind of busy right now, Sir,' I taunted him. ‘Hold on.' I spanked Riley's flank. She gasped. ‘That was the sound of me smacking your wife's luscious, sweet and highly neglected ass. I gotta go. Your women look famished for some fucking respect and attention. I'm sure you can find a glory hole to entertain yourself at. I'll talk to you in the morning. Bye,' I signed off before he could reply.I cut off Riley's phone then pocketed it. They were both staring at me in utter shock. Dominique's full, plump lips first closed then she opened them to start laughing.‘Boy, Vlad, that was hilarious,' she chortled.‘That was a freebie, Dominique,' I grinned.‘There are two kinds of cheaters; the ones who convince themselves it will never happen to them, and the ones who believe everyone cheats. That allows them to both allow themselves to violate the essence of their relationships,' I glibly stated, ‘It also makes them want to utterly control their partners so they don't end up becoming cuckolds themselves.'‘Mr. Samsonov; ‘ Dominique studied me, ‘you continue to show me you are much more dangerous than you appear.' Taking into account my size, excellent physical shape, exhibited self-control and clear elucidation, I could only imagine I was 'dangerous' for a White guy; what a tight-ass shrew.‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mrs. Malik,' I politely responded. ‘I don't do older Black chicks; or date used-up girls who only fuck Black guys. One of the three of us has to have some standards.' They blinked; it was the whole 'da White boy thinks he can talk back to us?' bullshit.‘I'll go looking for Mikhail now. You two have fun sharing in your communal 'I've been dicked-over, bent over and forced to suck another woman's vaginal fluids off his cock' Chine-experiences. I pray neither one of you've done Ass-to-Mouth with him; that would turn my stomach. Bye,' I waved as I departed. Dominique grabbed my arm, her fingernails digging in.‘What makes you think you can insult me that way, in my own house?' she lambasted me.‘It is the truth and we both know it,' I shrugged. ‘Somebody needs to start telling the truth around here, don't you think?'‘Get your brother and get out,' she snapped.‘Done deal,' I answered. ‘Riley; ‘ The doorbell rang. From the look on everyone's faces, none of us were expecting a caller.‘Don't you move,' Dom glared at me, ‘and don't you do a damn thing,' she balefully instructed Riley. Off she stormed.‘Gayle, what are you doing here?' Dom greeted my Mom.‘I brought dinner for my boys, Dominique,' she responded snidely. ‘I expect them to be gentlemen and you to not give a damn about anyone but yourself.'‘You've got some nerve showing up on my doorstep,' Dom grumbled.‘Not really,' Mom shouldered her way inside. ‘I've gotten on with my life. I see you've done the same.'‘Bitch,' Dom sizzled yet didn't stop her.‘Kitchen?' my maternal unit asked me. She was holding a wicker picnic basket and a large paper bag in one hand and a covered pot with a pail in the other. I pointed the way. She winked.Belatedly, Dominique slammed the door and stalked after Mom.‘What would ever possess you that I'd welcome you into my house,' she spat. ‘After what you did to Leon; ‘‘Had; do you really want to rehash that right now considering neither one of us has forgotten, or forgiven a damn thing?' Mom countered.‘Leon is still sucking his puree through a straw and pissing in a colostomy bag,' Dominique simmered.‘Mom?' I questioned.‘Oh, you haven't told your boys about what you and Theo did?' Dominque taunted her. Mom wasn't perturbed in the least.‘Vlad, do you trust me?' my Mother asked me.‘Sure. You can be unfathomable and crazy, but I don't think you've ever hurtfully deceive me.'‘Boy, you had better check that naiveté,' Mayor Malik warned me.‘Vlad, the last time Theo and I spent any time under the same roof was here, in Fonteneau,' she used Kingston's old name. ‘Leon Fox, Dominique's brother, and six other Black bulls decided to brutalize me, I was barely alive when I crawled my way back to the road where Mr. Cobb found me,' she relayed in a pleasant tone.‘So you say,' Dom interrupted. ‘It was your word against them and those seven had iron-clad alibis. To you, all Black men looked alike.'‘Think what you want. I identified all seven of them. You dad and the police chief wouldn't prosecute even though I know they were heard around town bragging about it; how they'd 'taught me a lesson'.'‘Mom, what the hell is going on?' I worried.‘Your Great-Aunt wouldn't accept that the police's investigation acquitted my brother and his friends; Because it was Black officers accepting the words of seven Black men, one of them the newly-minted Mayor's son, over a scared, battered child's,' Mom gave a feral grin.‘Yeah, you racist bitch,' Dominique seethed.‘Theo believed me. Aunt Matilda and Theo both believed me and not your chick-shit police force cover-up,' Mom kept smiling though there was not mirth behind it. ‘Theo made damn sure the guilty paid.'‘He damn near beat four grown men to death,' Dom grumbled. ‘One of them was my brother.'‘Vlad, Theo took a fileting knife and a crowbar with him when he rode his bicycle out and hunted those scumbags down,' Mom explained while staring at my host. ‘He found four of them together. He put all four in the hospital.'‘He ended up in the hospital as well,' Mom added, ‘if that makes you feel better.'‘Is that why Uncle Theo ended up in military school?' I inquired.‘He got off lucky,' Dom bristled. ‘Leon; and Roscoe Sumner never left the damn hospital, Bitch.' She turned on me. ‘Rufus never did see out of his left eye again and Martin Cutler still has to walk with leg braces and a cane.'Uncle Theo and Mom; that explained a great deal about her and her twin's relationship. I knew Mom had once broken into his military school/prison to see him. I also knew now that Mom hadn't lied to me; this vendetta was with this entire sick town, not blanket racism on her part.Black individuals in this town had raped her and other Blacks had covered it up. Theo had avenged her and paid for that with five years of his freedom. Had the Kingston's Black police force simply pursued a proper course of justice, then those seven men would have gotten what the law allowed; and be out of jail by now.Maybe that would have helped Gayle Fonteneau's emotional wounds heal. That didn't happen though. That injustice explained why Mom had initially run away from Dad. She'd suffered at the hands of law enforcement and she carried that distrust and disgust with her into her first meeting with Dad.That had to be some awkward emotional gymnastics on her part.‘Oh, come on now,' Mom chortled. ‘Leon is in a nice assisted-care living facility and Roscoe is in a coma just down the hall from him.'‘What happened to Le; your brother, Mrs. Malik?' I asked.‘According to the reconstructive specialist in Austin he was hit 27 times with a crowbar, that's what happened,' she spat at my Mother. ‘Even now his face doesn't look right and he's one step above a vegetable.'‘You took Aunt Matilda's hush money,' Mom gloated. ‘You all did.'‘That doesn't mean your brother wasn't a psycho, racist bastard,' Dom shot back.‘Bullshit, Dominique. Your Daddy made the town accept Aunt Mattie's deal because she was bringing in the Arkansas State Police (ASP) to investigate Theo's defense claims and that would have fried the whole lot of you,' Mom ignored Dom's snit. Seeing my disbelief, she told me, ‘Back in 1986, the ASP had its fair share of White racists.'‘Had those seven not been guilty as sin; ‘ she glared at the Mayor, ‘maybe Theo wouldn't have gone Rambo on this burgh.'‘Enough!' I intervened. ‘This is not helping us with the problem at hand. Right now, all Mikhail and I are worried about is whether Mr. Malik is going to come home tonight pissed off, drunk off his ass, or both.'‘Why should you care?' Madame Mayor turned my way. Mom started laughing which only made the woman angrier.‘Because unlike you, me and most of this town, my boys are decent individuals who actually give a crap about strangers, regardless of their melatonin levels,' she snorted. She made eye contact with Mrs. Malik.‘Don't blame me,' Mom chuckled. ‘I would be much happier of your shiftless shit of a husband came back and beat the fuck out of you and your daughter. To me, that would be poetic justice for what your father let him get away with.'‘No happening, Mom,' I declared. ‘Mikhail and I are eighteen now so you can't make us go home. If he's really a threat; ‘‘And you can't trust the police,' Mom sneered at Dom. ‘Your police force, Dominique.'‘You are one twisted cock-whore,' Dom riposted.‘Seven young men assaulted me,' Mom snarled. ‘Three weren't around when Theo caught up with the other four. ‘Charles Baker was one of them. The other was Demetrius Quinterre. These days he is the Chief of Police.'‘Charles Baker is Chinedu Malik now?' I requested.‘Yeah,' Mom beamed hostility Mamma Malik's way. ‘The fall after 'it' happened, Charles went to Arkansas State on a football scholarship and changed his name to something more 'African'. If he thinks it made it so that Theo couldn't find him, he's sorely mistaken.'‘Where is your crazy brother anyway?'‘Which one?' Mom snorted. ‘I've got a few.'‘Theo, you crazy cunt.'‘He joined the US Army straight out of the academy. He ended up in Ranger School then the Green Beret,' Mom updated her. ‘Now he's a contract killer for God-knows who. You, the FBI and the US military all are curious about his whereabouts.'‘That's; ‘ Dominique looked at me. What can I say? I have an honest face. ‘Do you believe that?' she asked me.‘Madame Mayor, I've talked to the men from Fort Bragg who have come calling. How to put this; Uncle Theo is exceedingly eccentric; beyond what Mom is.'In a normal situation, this would be when the concerned wife asked if her husband was in danger from my lunatic uncle. Not Mrs. Malik. Hell, a martyred husband killed by a violent racist would be a big boost to her career. It would also remove any chance of her hubby blowing up the situation with Riley, thus Riley's Sugar-Daddy. I could almost see the cold, calculating wheels turning behind her eyes.‘That's hardly encouraging. Fine; Gayle, you can get out. Vlad, I'm going to make some phone calls. Why don't you see what your brother has gotten up to,' the Mayor commanded. Mom shot me a wink when Mrs. Malik pulled out her phone.‘Bring home the pot and basket when you leave,' she advised me. She took my arm and pulled me to the door.‘You have your toiletries and fresh clothes in the bag (the big, brown paper one she'd arrived with). Then, as she hugged me, she shoved something into my front, left pocket. That weekend with the Vegas hookers paid off, I recalled the crinkly sound condom wrappers make. ‘For Mikhail,' she whispered. He was being given her 'okay' to any sexual missteps that might happen if we weren't sent straight home.I imagined most teenage boys would be thrilled to have their mothers handing them some condoms and silently wishing them luck. Not me. This was some fucked-up shit Mikhail, Alexander and I had stepped into. Mom turned without further advice and went to Dad's black '2012 F-150' pick-up truck. I closed the door, then went looking for the ladies.Dominique had taken Riley into the living room. The younger woman was sitting contritely on the sofa while the Mayor quietly brow-beat whomever was on the other end of that phone conversation. I spared them a look, knew I wasn't needed, or wanted, so I went for the stairs.‘Taliyah, Mikhail, Dinner's here,' I called up. I remained at the bottom of the stairs until Mikhail showed himself.‘Was that Mom?' he calmly inquired.‘Yeah. She's gone now,' I gave a wry grin. ‘It is safe you two to come down.' A few seconds later, Taliyah appeared.‘What is it?' she was referring to dinner.‘Whatever Kamika cooked for us,' I replied. She shrugged, clearly upset with the past few minutes of her life. She still came down. She'd missed lunch unless you counted cum swallowed, then had cheerleader workouts, horse-riding and a sex-session with my brother. Mikhail was perpetually hungry as was the norm for growing boys our age and metabolisms.The remarkable thing was her reaction to Mikhail and his blasé attitude. He wasn't walking on eggshells, as Alexander would have, or being sympathetic, like me. Mikhail was being Mikhail; Taliyah's problems weren't his concern so he wasn't intruding. If she wanted some emotional input from him, she'd have to do the 'reaching out'.We doled out portions. Taliyah started with three bowls (for the host of baby-back pork ribs) and plates for the potatoes, carrots and string beans. I motioned for two more. She mentally debated my request before complying. Kamika must have packed a family of eight. There was plenty to spare.After the meal was apportioned, I took two plates and a glass of Pomegranate Juice (Taliyah poured for her Mom) and a glass of lemonade for Riley. I juggled the lot as I traipsed into the living room. The conversation stopped when I appeared. I didn't engage either with eye contact, though I could tell Dominique resented me serving dinner to her guest. I retreated with the same grace I'd exhibited entering.The two high-schoolers had attacked the ribs with gusto.‘Hmm; these are some damn fine ribs,' Taliyah waved a freshly-cleaned bone my way. ‘No wonder the men in your family are so damn huge.' Right as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she shot Mikhail a dirty look, daring him to make a snide aside about the size of his cock. Mikhail didn't take the bait.‘Give Kamika a call around noon-time. She'll add a place-setting for you at the dinner table,' he replied after vigorously sucking the meat off his fourth victim. That was the opposite of what she expected a man, a Black man, to say. She'd never had a possibly sexually suggestive chat with a White guy.‘The food's not so good I'd want to spend time with you,' she poked him.‘I'm not hot to re-experience your she-devil bitchiness either, Taliyah,' he teased her. ‘I've got to accept that Brandy's going to keep putting a sappy smile on Vlad's face and that suggests they'll crawl out of bed long enough to get some food.'‘We are never going to have sex again,' she wacked his hand with a fresh rib, leaving a saucy mark.Mikhail licked the sweet substance off while keeping eye contact with the girl. She refused to back down from his provocation. My brother responded by tenderly poking her lips with a fresh rib. She kept her mouth closed yet couldn't keep the smile from her face. She countered by presented piece of meat in front of him. Mikhail caught the offering in his teeth and shook it hungrily.Now I felt like the one who should tell them to get a room. The two began making messes of each other's faces with sloppy feedings of one another before including me in the game. It was so engrossing, we three missed Mrs. Malik coming into the kitchen and catching us at play.‘Taliyah, what, are, you, doing?' her mother clipped off each world.‘I'm keeping the White boys quiet,' the daughter thought quickly on her feet.‘Oh, that's what you call it,' Dominique's eyebrow arched. ‘It looks more like your flirting with them both.'‘What!' Taliyah squalled. ‘I hate Mikhail; Vlad's okay. He treats Brandy like she matters, not the way Darius does. He treats her like a cum dumpster.'‘I thought you wanted to be with Darius?' Dom studied her daughter intently.‘Well; I've changed my mind. His whole attitude; the 'I'm a football stud' is getting too pricey for my tastes,' she clarified. ‘Rashaan has his head so far up Darius' ass that's stopped being funny too.'‘Taliyah, if you stop dating Rashaan, you won't be popular,' mom protested.‘Listen to your mother,' Mikhail agreed. ‘Look how well hooking up with a football star worked out for her.' Waves of furious emotions radiated from mom. Taliyah's reaction was far more direct.‘You bastard!' Taliyah swore before she punched him in the upper arm. She was starting to cry.Chine may have been a raging prick to Samsonov eyes, but he was Taliyah's Daddy.‘Fuck,' he exaggerated. ‘What makes you think; ow,' he recoiled as she began to rain blows down on his upper arm and chest. Tears started to stream down her face as she pummeled my brother who took his beating like a champ.‘You are such a; a; ‘ she stammered.‘Neanderthal?' he volunteered. Two more blows were her response then her attacks lost strength and direction. Mikhail wrapped her up in his arms as she sobbed into the crux of his arm and chest.‘Feel free to hate me as much as you need to,' he held her tight. ‘I'm not that fond of you either.' He kept her close for another minute.‘I'll take her upstairs,' Mikhail told Dominique. He kept an arm around her shoulders to aid her direction and off they went. The Mayor looked my way.‘I don't know what's up with that,' I shrugged. ‘Mikhail really is a jerk most of the time. Heck, he's the biggest bastard of the three of us; the most like Mom's dark side, so I'm not sure what he's doing being nice to your daughter.'‘If he does something to her,' she threatened me. Her eyes went past me to Riley who had come to the open doorway. ‘Don't you start thinking you can be leaving,' she aimed her prodigies' way. ‘I'm not done with you.'‘Besides, he's still out there,' I meant Mr. Malik. ‘He's likely to do something irrational that both of you will regret.'‘Why should you care? You are a Fonteneau,' the Mayor grumbled in an accusatory voice.‘I'm not sure,' I shrugged. ‘I trust my Mom a lot more than I believe your version of events. From what I know of Uncle Theo, if he wasn't sure justice had been done, he'd have come back here already.'‘The fact you are choosing to revisit this tragedy now makes me wonder when I'll see him again,' I tacked on.‘Ah, could I have some more of those ribs?' Riley extended her plate. She needed to finish her veggies.‘All that pork is going straight to those fat hips and big ass, Girl,' the Mayor cruelly teased her.Riley was embarrassed. I stood up from the kitchen table, took Riley's plate, and filled it with the portions of meat Taliyah and Mikhail had left behind. That seemed to mollify her to the point she felt good enough to walk, with her plate, back to the living room.‘You shouldn't be nice to her,' the Mayor cautioned me. ‘She's just another whore for Black Cock. Another White girl freak beneath the sheets.'That the Mayor was likely one as well wasn't something I felt I should bring up at the moment. Instead of arguing, I began to clean up the kitchen, putting the leftovers in Tupperware containers, washing the plates and then the pot and food containers. All the while, Dominique watched me work.‘I thought you had domestic help,' she said condescending tone.‘A) any kind of help is something new to us boys and Dad. B) Mom insists we all pitch in and help out. That means washing cookware and plates after meals, haul fertilizer and taking away yard debris and cleaning our rooms. We have chores.'‘That defeats the purpose of having servants,' she insisted.‘That house is huge, the 'help' could use the help, chores remind us we all need to work together and it teaches us not to take people for granted,' I repeated my Mom's words from our first day in the house.‘Your clan used to be such snobs, looking down on all us Black folks.'‘However the Fonteneau acted was before our time, Madam Mayor; ‘‘Call me Dominique, or Mrs. Malik in my home, Vladimir. You are Vladimir, right?' she said.‘Yes Dominique, I'm Vlad, the middle one. Alexander is oldest, so he's the most mature, I'm the middle triplet, so I'm the best mix of Mom and Dad, and Mikhail is the youngest so he's always out to prove himself.'‘Fascinating,' she responded drolly. ‘Stay out of the way while I deal with Riley. I'll get her squared away then deal with you and your brother.' With that, she walked off to give Riley another huge piece of her mind, rage and frustration. As I was putting up the pot to dry, the doorbell rang. I heard Mamma Malik's heels click on the marble floors as she stormed over to the door.‘Demetrius, what are you doing here?' I heard he say from the door.‘I heard you were having some problem with those Samsonov boys,' he announced. ‘I'm here to make sure everything is okay.'‘You mean my worthless, cheating husband sent you over to make them leave,' she groused.‘He might have indicated they were causing you problems,' the Police Chief allowed. ‘Let me pour those Cornfeds into their car and send them home.'‘No,' Dominique's voice cracked the whip of authority. ‘He is out whoring and drinking and that means he ain't coming home tonight; end of story.'‘I'll leave Oliver with a patrol car watching your place if that is the case,' he tried to mollify her.‘On really,' she mocked him. ‘You, Chinedu and Oliver are all drinking buddies. You and your cronies aren't going to keep my husband's drunk ass from darkening my doorway. You let Chine know he's not welcome here tonight.'‘Dom, you are being unreasonable,' the cop leader cooed. I didn't have to imagine him touching her. The Kingston cops were far too touchy-feely with women.‘Don't you touch me, you poltroon,' she blasted him. I wondered if he even knew what a poltroon was. He knew it was an insult though.‘Listen up, Dominique,' his voice grew low and threatening. That was my cue.‘Madam Mayor, is everything okay?' I stepped into the hallway. Demetrius' eyes latched onto me before turning his sneer the Mayor's way.‘Why, don't he look cozy,' he accused Dominique.‘Buddy,' I wasn't going to call him an 'officer', or 'Chief', ‘Mom just enlightened me to what you and Chine did to her all those years ago. Statute of Limitations may have passed, but don't you think the Samsonov's consider justice to be done.'‘I also know that any crime involving you and a Deputy's son automatically brings in the Arkansas State Police. Cross that portal and you cease being a concerned police officer and become a home invader,' I channeled my father and all his kin going back a dozen generations.‘How about I arrest you for trespassing?' he want for his 'bracelets' while his right hand rested on the ass of his piece.‘My house, Demetrius and I've invited him and his brother in. Believe me, Dem, if you don't hot-foot it off my property then my next call Will be to the State Police reporting You for criminal trespass,' she growled at the cop.‘So, you've become an Oreo?' he mocked her. ‘I can't wait to hear what the town council has to say about that.'‘Consider they are the same crowd who invited Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges to be our Principle for the next ten months; ‘ I began my counter-mock.‘Five years,' the Mayor glowered at the Chief. ‘The school board; which you are on, Demetrius; gave that freakazoid a five year contract.'

Rivka and Frank close out the year with a final “holiday duet” on the Christmas classic Miracle on 34th Street. They debate whether Kris Kringle is in fact the REAL Santa or just the world's greatest salesman. Released during the second Red Scare, it's unsurprising that the film's core moral is the need for “altruistic capitalism.” But is it OK to allow a potentially unwell old man around thousands of children? As long as he's making money — who cares, it turns out! Don't get us wrong, we both love this movie but HOLY SHIT this story is wild.  MVC will be off until 2025, but we'll be back with an episode on Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. 

This is Part 2 of A CMO Confidential Interview with Andy Sack and Adam Brotman, Co-Founders and Co-CEO's of Forum 3, authors of the book AI First, previously at Microsoft and Starbucks. They discuss why AI is different from previous technology advances and the series of "Holy Shit!" moments experienced when interviewing Sam Altman, Bill Gates and others. Key topics include: their belief that AI is "moving faster than you think" since it isn't constrained by an adoption curve or infrastructure; the power of Artificial General Intelligence which will be smarter than most experts; why trying to calculate the ROI of AI is comparable to measuring the return on electricity; and the possibility of 95% of marketing and agency jobs being impacted over the next 5 years. Tune in to hear how Chat GPT scored a top grade on the AP Biology Exam, how Moderna became an AI leader, and their tips for staying near the front of the wave.Discover how AI is revolutionizing marketing with 5X productivity gains, as revealed by top CMOs. In this episode of CMO Confidential, host Mike Lint explores the transformative power of AI in the marketing landscape. Adam and Andy, AI experts and authors, share insights on how companies like Moderna are leveraging AI to achieve unprecedented efficiency.Key topics include:• The real-world impact of AI adoption in biotech and marketing• How Moderna achieved 5X productivity gains with an AI-first approach• The future of marketing jobs in the age of AI• Strategies for marketers to become AI-literate and stay competitive• Evaluating AI vendors and measuring ROI in marketingTune in to hear practical advice on embracing AI in your marketing strategy, from creating an AI council to implementing AI tools for enhanced productivity. Learn why AI literacy is crucial for marketers and how to combine domain knowledge with AI capabilities for breakthrough results.Don't miss this eye-opening discussion on the future of marketing in the AI era. Subscribe to CMO Confidential for more insights on marketing leadership and innovation.#leadgeneration #socialmediamarketing #digitalmarketing #makemoneywithai #brandinginthedigitalageCHAPTERS:00:00 - Intro04:06 - AI Impact on Marketing05:46 - AGI and Marketers11:57 - Evaluating AI Vendors16:14 - AI Literacy and Proficiency21:00 - ROI of AI26:35 - Final Questions30:00 - Additional Practical Advice33:07 - OutroSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

A CMO Confidential Interview with Andy Sack and Adam Brotman, Co-Founders and Co-CEO's of Forum 3, authors of the book AI First, previously at Microsoft and Starbucks. They discuss why AI is different from previous technology advances and the series of "Holy Shit!" moments experienced when interviewing Sam Altman, Bill Gates and others. Key topics include: their belief that AI is "moving faster than you think" since it isn't constrained by an adoption curve or infrastructure; the power of Artificial General Intelligence which will be smarter than most experts; why trying to calculate the ROI of AI is comparable to measuring the return on electricity; and the possibility of 95% of marketing and agency jobs being impacted over the next 5 years. Tune in to hear how Chat GPT scored a top grade on the AP Biology Exam, how Moderna became an AI leader, and their tips for staying near the front of the wave.Marketing's AI Revolution: What CMOs Need to Know Before 2025 | AI's impact on marketing strategiesTune in to hear former CMO Mike Linton discuss the AI revolution with Adam Brotman and Andy Sack, authors of "AI First". Key topics include:• The rapid advancement of AI and its potential to transform marketing• Insights from tech leaders like Sam Altman, Bill Gates, and Reid Hoffman• How AI could automate up to 95% of marketing tasks within 5 years• The concept of "agentic" AI and its implications for businesses• Strategies for marketers to adapt and thrive in an AI-driven landscapeAdam Brotman, former Chief Digital Officer at Starbucks, and Andy Sack, Managing Partner at Keane Capital, share their "holy shit moments" about AI's capabilities. Learn why they believe AI will revolutionize not just marketing, but entire industries and society itself.Discover how companies like Moderna are already leveraging AI to dramatically increase productivity and innovation. This episode is crucial for CMOs and marketers looking to stay ahead in the rapidly evolving world of AI-powered marketing.Subscribe to the CMO Confidential Newsletter for exclusive content and insights on the future of marketing in the AI era.#marketingagainstthegrain #digitaltwin #aimarketing #operatingmodeltransformation #digitalmarketingCHAPTERS:00:00 - Intro01:05 - Welcome Adam and Andy02:14 - Evolution of the Book06:47 - Sam Altman AGI Discussion12:05 - Bill Gates Insights16:31 - Defining "Holy Shit Moment"20:20 - Fears and Concerns Around AI21:24 - AI vs. Other Tech Revolutions22:19 - Exponential Change: COVID Preview26:40 - Linear vs. Exponential Change31:11 - Thinking About AI: Legal Briefs to Human Obliteration31:30 - AI's Future Impact32:14 - Moderna's AI Transformation35:58 - AI in Marketing and AgenciesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

IBLT 299: Holy Shit, almost 300 Episodes!Intro/RantsNFL PicksSick New World CancelledJimmy Kimmel Fans as for ApologyAsian Food Snack TrialPodcast-Twitter: @IBLTPodcastE-mail: IBLTPodcast@gmail.comInstagram: ibltpodcastYoutube: it be like that podcastTwitch: twitch.tv/ibltpodcastFind Us-Stitcher, Apple Podcasts, Spreaker, Blubrry, Facebook, Google PlayPatrick:Twitter: @bigsolo64YouTube: solis64Twitch: Solis_64TikTok: Solis_64Brian:Twitter: @T_T_PodcastYouTube: @toolbert / @terribleterrorpodcastTwitch: twitch.tv/terribbleterrorsAI Music: https://suno.com/@terribleterrorsAlbum Release: Rhapsody of the ReplicantsTerrible Terror Podcast: Deathcember

Holy Shit these jokes are getting super dark. Hope you guys are super cool about it....guess we'll find out. Don't cancel us internet. https://linktr.ee/id10tangos

Being known by the company you keep. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Life exists in both seconds and years. Don't ignore one for the other.” I would like to thank the phone operator and Chief of the Burnham, Illinois Police Department for answering my questions, despite their bizarre nature. (Monday Night) I should have known to not have too good a time. My karma was wacky enough as it was. It was about to get worse in a way I should have foreseen. Ain't hindsight grand? Inside of five seconds I knew how much sharing Libra and Brooke did; a lot. On the plus side, it gave me some wiggle room with Libra where sex with Brooke was concerned. On the super-plus side, Brooke was looking forward to ratcheting up our sex play. I took her to Libra's experiences with all the extra bells and whistles. In this case it meant adding a blindfold and ball-gag to the hand restraints. Brooke handed me a high level of trust unexpected at this early moment in our sexcapade. With a quick empathic insight, I pulled her ball-gag down as her orgasm erupted. She rejoiced in the sound of her rapture echoing around my bedroom. I deceived her into her next climax by whispering a promise to release her then hammering her instead. The whole specter of powerlessness tore her up inside. Best of all, even as she spasmed beneath me, I released her cuffs then pulled up her mask. Her fingernails dug into my trapezius muscles. For over a minute, she clung to me with a deep hunger to feel my heat and sweat against her body. "My turn," she rasped. I pressed my shoulders and head up so I could look into her eyes. She was waiting for this opportunity since she'd talked with Libra. Without question, she'd never been tied down before, or tied a man down and had her way with him. She'd manipulated men most of her life; that was old hat. This was primal, physical and forbidden. She was taking complete control of my person. God, I thought she'd orgasmed when she finished cuffing me to the headboard. Taunting, teasing and hot body contact followed as she put the ball-gag in. Sizzling lips sealed my fate as the blindfold was slipped in place. Having invested so much time using all my senses soaking up the hungry beast that Brooke possessed right beneath her urbane surface, losing my eyesight wasn't a major drawback. For Brooke, this had all the benefits of anonymous sex in a blacked-out room with the bonus of her having the lights on for her use alone. My bet was she had studied stuff on-line. From being sure she wasn't going to have sex with me when she first met, she had graduated to running naked across my living room for what turned out to be lemon slices. The 'fumph' of the Nerf gun made me assume Timothy shot her in the ass as she raced into my room. By the yip from Brooke, I knew Timothy's aim remained frighteningly accurate. Lemon juice and cuts don't mix, or, Brooke enjoyed watching my body jolt as said juice interacted with said 'workplace' mistakes. Was I angry? Nah. Every hiss of pain was followed by lavished kisses, licks and hair lashings. I loved her long black hair draped over my body, flicked around whisk-like and tickling my nose. Brooke was learning my keystone technique; figure out what your partner wants and give them a quick sample. Don't use any one thing too much; make it a treat and they'll appreciate the taste they get even more. When Brooke finally sated us both, it was my turn again. We talked a while. She invited me to a friend's place in the Hamptons which suggested to me the destination was more than some made-up place on TV. I promised to think about it. Brooke took that to mean she needed to work harder to convince me. I honestly had little desire to be trotted around as Brooke's boy toy. Hoping that wouldn't be the case relied a lot on faith. I wasn't sure what I would have in common with any of that crowd, which guided me back to being a stuck up snob for treating a people as a social class and not as human beings. I took out my social anxiety on Brooke. Poor girl; three holes, ten positions and I'm not sure how many times I took her from frenzied peak to frenzied peak. All I knew was when she'd passed all points of previous primeval ecstasy, I finally released her. Brooke curled into a semi-fetal ball and began burrowing into me. "Happy?" I asked as I stroked her sweat-drenched hair. She nodded happily against my chest. "Are you glad you came over?" I continued. Brooke bit me because she knew I was teasing her. "Ow," I grumbled. "I think we have a misunderstanding who is whose sex toy here." "Do I need to bite you again?" Brooke mumbled into my chest. "Point taken," I conceded. Brooke snuggled in even tighter. We wrestled out of bed, stumbled into the shower and took some time off with Timothy. He looked at us and smirked. "Cáel is going to be my boyfriend," Brooke tossed out there. Huh? "What in God's green earth makes you want to do that?" Timothy chuckled. "He's been there when I needed him. Cáel is a real man and it has taken me having a really tough spill to realize that it doesn't matter which alumni your Daddy belongs to, but what you put on the line for your friends that really matters," Brooke enlightened us both. "Seriously Dude," Timothy looked at me with pity. "Cut down on the awesome dicking until somehow polygamy becomes legal," he added, but then, "Brooke, you know he's seeing about a dozen different ladies, right?" "Cáel is looking for a serious relationship," Brooke insisted. Timothy chortled because he knew the likelihood of me settling down was right up there with us sharing a White Christmas in the Bahamas. "Let's go back to bed, Babe," I redirected things to safer waters. "It is your turn to be on top." Brooke, wearing one of my fresh t-shirts and nothing else, hopped off the sofa and let me lead her back to the bedroom for another round of 'not thinking about any other part of my screwed up life except the beautiful woman with me right now' sex. Twenty minutes later, Brooke had encased me in her wanton elixirs, was gyrating her hips as she stroked me inside her snatch while keeping me bound, blind and muffled. My phone rang. "Should I get that?" Brooke teased me. She moved enough to seize my cellular device. "The number is unlisted," she mused. "Who could it be?" I gave a muffled response. She removed the ball-gag enough for me to speak. "Work," I repeated. "It might be work. I'm on-call 24/7." "Damn," Brooke undoubtedly pouted (still blindfolded). She answered the call then placed the phone to my ear. "Cáel, a Security Detail detachment is on their way to your quarters as we speak. You will recognized the code they will use," Katrina's icy calm voice informed me. "Katrina, what is wrong?" I inquired. Normally, I wouldn't get an answer. Katrina's tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "There has been an incident at your Father's home in Chicago. We do not have clear intelligence at this time. I may have more when you get in," she related. "Understood," I replied. My passionate storm abated and I felt empty inside. Dad. "Cáel?" Brooke sounded worried. "We need to get dressed," I murmured. I had to let Timothy know something was truly wrong. I needed to get Brooke home safely. I; I needed to know more than I did right then. Brooke uncuffed me quickly. I barely had my boxers on when there was a light series of raps on the door. I sprang up, opened my bedroom door, surprising Odette. She must have come back to work a few minutes earlier and was unwinding with some low-volume TV and some sofa time. Timothy was asleep already. "Odette, go back to Timothy's room and warn him something bad may have happened. Go!" I warned. Odette scampered back. Brooke was at my back, trying to move into the main room. "Brooke, stay here. If something unusual happens, hide in the bedroom and don't come out until the police get here. Do you understand?" I met her confusion with an iron stare. She nodded. There was another, more insistent, rapping at my apartment door. I crept up to the portal and gave a counter-knock. "Crab Fisher-woman," a female voice said from the other side. "My Father's Sister," I responded. It was an imperfect code, but effective given the circumstances. I double checked through the spy hole, unlocked the door and let three SD Amazons inside. How bad was it? I doubted these ladies would know more than I did. In Hittite, she said; "Ishara," the leader said, "we have orders to escort you to Havenstone immediately." They weren't blindly expecting me to follow instructions. They had a directive they were following to the best of their ability. In Hittite, she said; “ Will a team be watching my domicile?" I asked. The leader nodded. "We need to take a female I have been with tonight to her dwelling before going on to Havenstone." The SD team leader nodded again. There was no condescension, or argument. They were following orders as if it was my right to issue them. That was how bad things were. Time to get back to English. "Brooke, finish getting dressed. I'm taking you home," I called out. Quite frankly, along with my desire to see Brooke back home safely was my instinct to not split up my guardians. Better a longer trip than two smaller, more vulnerable groups. I was in the process of getting dressed in the living room when Timothy and Odette came out. "Bro?" Timothy asked. "My Father's home was attacked. I have no other details right now," I explained with a sinking feeling in my heart. Timothy read my soul, came up and engulfed me in his mighty arms. Odette added herself to the heart-felt love-pile. "Do you want me to take Odette and head back to Queens for a while?" Timothy asked. He sensed we had limited time. "They," and by 'they' he knew I meant Havenstone, "will have a team watching this place. There are not enough resources to go back and forth to work. I wish I could tell what would keep you safe, but I don't know anymore." "We'll stay put," Timothy declared. Odette nodded. "We'll be here for you when you get back. If any of these psycho-broads want to stop by from time to time, I won't say no." I shot a look to the security team leader and she gave a curt 'okay'. "You'll need an overnight bag!" Odette squeaked. Off she went. Brooke finished getting dressed and came to my side. To your average Lothario, what she did might seem odd. To me, it was the normal refrain; Brooke shoved her panties into my jean's pocket. That was a not so subtle 'Call Me' for when I got back. "Three minutes, Ish; Cáel," the leader updated me. My amateur guess was this was the team from across the street. They had back-up vehicles and personnel streaking down from Havenstone to provide extra security for my move. "Velma," she gave me her name. A quick description was in order. The three Amazons all had Bluetooth devices, shooting glasses and steel-gray long coats that had to be uncomfortable in this upper seventies evening heat. Underneath, they had on light ballistic body armor on their torsos, arms, and legs. Even their dull grey, all-terrain boots looked armored. They had a hip holstered sidearm, most likely a back-up pistol at the small of their backs and a deadly blade, or three. Their main deterrence was their H and K UMP 40 caliber; my second favorite Amazon killing device. Timothy snuck off to get my toiletries, returning around the same time Odette trundled out with an overnight (or three) bag. There was a final round of hugs then Velma indicated it was time to leave. The fourth member of the team was stationed at the top of the third floor stairs. That gave her a good view of my hallway as well as the passage going up and down. Two SD's to the front, Velma and the fourth watching our backs and Brooke caught between giddy and freaking terrified. Things got even more exciting when we hit the bottom of the stairs. Two more ladies were waiting. They put a trench coat on Brooke and she nearly collapsed. The freed up Amazon took my bag while the second put a trench coat on me. I grunted as well. This bitch had to weigh 25 kg. That was some serious ballistic and blast protection. The closest newcomer began attaching my pistol with hip holster on my side while Brooke was 'buttoned up'. I was slipped a few spare clips then was buttoned up as well. "I'm not sure I can walk in this thing," Brooke gave me a weak smile. "Don't worry," I smiled, "I'll carry you." I slipped my arm around Brooke's waist and, on Velma's signal, we rushed out to the middle of three Mercedes Armored GL550s. The doors had barely shut before we were racing away from my favorite home. I walked Brooke up to her apartment, we hugged, kissed and she insisted I go to the Hamptons with her this weekend. I left with that promise unanswered. I didn't ask the Security Detail to do anything else outrageous and they didn't give me any crap about Brooke. Their vigilance didn't end at Havenstone either. No; they formed a tight knot of outward hostility until we marched into Katrina's office. Even then, they spread out over the Executive Services offices as an extended perimeter. Katrina's office was another step up on the unsettling meter. It was Katrina, Saint Marie, Buffy, Helena, and a woman I didn't know yet seemed to belong. "Excuse me?" Saint Marie shot a hostile look my way; actually right behind me. "Don't mind me," Pamela snorted. She was in the process of sneaking into the room. "I'm here for moral support," she concluded then took a seat. "Cáel?" Katrina queried, as if I could somehow exile Pamela from the room. "What's going on?" I began the meeting instead. "Your Father is dead," Katrina reported. If someone ever asked me what it felt like to have an arm cut off, I could truthfully answer them 'Yes'. Dad. "From what we have been able to gather from the video and audio gear the four Amazon Security Detail team assigned to watch over him transmitted, the team was setting up a perimeter when three vehicles with ten men stopped on the juncture of Janus and Kerr streets and approached the house. The team leader made formal recognition and was attacked," Katrina told me. "Are they okay?" I mumbled. I didn't want to know how my Dad died. Had he been in pain? Which side had killed him? Would knowing make a damn bit of difference? "Three of the four members were killed," Saint Marie interjected. "The team commander was killed instantly. The second died defending that corner of your Father's domicile. The third member was killed attempting to rescue your Father. The surviving member stopped the enemy from escaping with your Father's body, but was too badly injured to extricate herself and is now in police custody." "What are we going to do about this?" I inquired. Pamela was a lying bitch. She'd lied to Brianna because the truth would have gotten me and Dad killed. Dad had still died, but Pamela had kept me alive. "There is nothing we can do," the stranger spoke up. "Troika of House Šauška." "You are joking, right?" I stared at her. "He was a male, not of;” Troika began to state. "You do know your Amazon law, correct?" I countered. She gave a curt tilt of the head. "Recount the means of succession to the Head of a House then please explain to the room how my Father, the descendant of Vranus, fits into all that." Cha-ching! "Oh, by the Seven Goddesses!" Saint Marie jumped up. "They murdered the Head of House Ishara!" Katrina was already back on top; ahead of the game. "But what does that make him?" Troika pointed at me. "It confirms him as the Head of House Ishara. We can sugar-coat it and say Cáel, being the only 'active' member of Havenstone 'represented' the Head of House Ishara. By our traditions though, Ferko Nyilas was the lawful head of a 'First' House. Certainly four days were not enough time to settle the manner in an acceptable way," Katrina said. "At the very least, House Ishara would have been given 28 days to resolve any matters of succession internally," Katrina pointed out. "There was no deception. Cáel worked for Havenstone, so was our active member. The existence of his Father was known. It is in his basic file. It was highly unlikely that ANY House wanted to bring another male into the mix so the matter of his ascension was left unquestioned." "This is Casus Belli," Troika stood up and declared in a firm voice. "I will inform Hayden. We must know the perpetrators of this act, Katrina. I will prepare to relate this breach of the Protocols to the other Signatories." "To make sure I have this straight, I can defend any member of my family, no matter who they are, without violating the Protocols?" I questioned. "Can I kill them?" "That is correct," Troika appeared confused. "Other Signatories cannot harm, or detain your family in any way." I gave a bitter, hollow laugh. Dad; Dad wouldn't have understood, but Mom would have, no doubt. "Troika; hell, everyone but Pamela and Katrina, I am Cáel Nyilas, grandson of The Cáel O'Shea and those people who murdered my Dad very well may have been my family," I felt like crying. That was good because I was crying. I had talked to Dad early Monday morning. I had been so nervous about not leaving any trace of Mom behind that I couldn't recall if I said 'I love you' to him. I'd never get the chance to make up for that oversight. As I began to take in the faces around me, I realized Ishara had gifted me with a respite. No one else knew who Cáel O'Shea was; yet. "Troika," I started out. I could tell she was still having difficulty with the 'Man as someone worthy of stating an opinion' moment. "When the Council decides that the Illuminati have breached the Protocols, do I have a deciding vote on what we do; since Dad was my family?" "No," Troika clarified, "and what makes you think it was the Illuminati?" Pamela laughed at her. "Because I killed Cáel's Grandfather when that man was head of the Illuminati; slit his throat and rendered him incapable of resuscitation. The rest of that twisted clan have only now discovered that there is a successor, genetically, to the Old Man and you are looking at him," Pamela related in an amused tone. "Perhaps; just perhaps; they were interested in what happened to Cáel's Mother and the man she mated with to produce Cáel; who also happened to be the Head of House Ishara and now leaves this man (me) as the last of his kind; coming and going," Pamela finished, "for both the Amazons and the O'Shea family/the Illuminati." Troika was having problems fitting all the puzzle pieces. Saint Marie cut to the heart of the matter because she listens to me. "If you go to war against the O'Shea's you are being forced to fight your own family," the Golden Mare stared at me in shock. "Let me get this straight," Troika stood up, waving for silence. "When the O'Shea's killed Ferko Nyilas, they murdered the Head of a First House. They also murdered a member of their own family by way of marriage." She seemed totally flummoxed. Everyone agreed about how screwed up everything was. Breach? No Breach? "Welcome to life working with Cáel Nyilas," Katrina declared. There was a pause. "I'll let the professionals figure out the finer points of diplomacy. I have to go," I said. "Were do you think you are going?" Buffy popped up. Until this moment, she'd had no role in affairs. My safety though; "I am going home to bury my Father, Buffy," I announced. This was not a discussion. "Shouldn't we take his body to the cliffs?" Troika suggested. "My Father will face the Afterlife with my Mother at his side. It was his wish and I'm not going to start dictating to my Ancestors now," I sighed. I was trying to make light of my pain. By the looks on their faces, I was failing. I had barely exited the office, Buffy, Helena and Pamela in tow. The security team was closing in and my phone rang. "Cáel Nyilas," I answered sadly. "Mr. Nyilas, this is Investigator Brewster of the Burnham Police Department. I need a few moments of your time," a man's voice requested. I hesitated. I looked at my watch. "Yes; Dad?" I finally spoke. "Mr. Nyilas, your father seems to have been murdered late this evening in a bungled attempted burglary," he lied. It was a good lie. If he really believed a bungled robbery consisted of two heavily armed groups shooting a small residential home to pieces he was; nah, he was lying. "I'm on the next flight to Chicago," was the response I chose. I had so many 'loser' replies to choose from. "That would be helpful, Mr. Nyilas," he told me. "Do you know when I can expect you?" "Ah; I have no idea when the next plane from New York to Chicago is, but if I can buy a ticket on it, I'm there," I countered. Admittedly, me having a plane ticket for home would have been damn suspicious. "One last thing, Mr. Nyilas, do you have any idea why someone would want to murder your father? Anything you could tell us could be of great assistance," he pressed. "Yes, I have a clue who murdered my Father and I'll point you to the dead bodies when I'm done," I snapped; quite literally and mentally snapped. Pause. "Mr. Nyilas, I understand you are upset, but do not do anything rash. Now, could your father have been murdered for anything you might have done, or are doing?" Det. Brewster kept is game face on. "We'll have this chat when I get to Chicago. Until then, take care," I said before hanging up. "Smooth," Pamela gently chastised me. "I actually liked him going all 'Mafia Don' on that cop," Buffy countered. "I'll arrange for Havenstone to get us transportation to Chicago," Helena added. "No," I countermanded her. "You two stay here and finish up business. Join me late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning." By the looks Buffy and Helena gave me they were surprised; and proud. I was keeping to my 'Runner' induction time table. My family would not be diminished by this tragedy. It would grow. Come Wednesday morning, we would add twenty new voices to Ishara's war cry. "I'll take the first commercial flight available," I continued. "We cannot protect you on a civilian aircraft, Ishara," Velma warned me. "They; the authorities are expecting me to show up at O'Hare, so I'm showing up at O'Hare, like a normal person," I reminded her. "I'll also need to know at what hospital they are keeping our sister." Our sister; the sole surviving Amazon who nearly gave her life for Dad. The SD picked up on that immediately. Another leap had been made. I wasn't a masculine monster, raging against a female warrior who had failed. By the tone of my voice, they knew I was in grief yet not overcome by it. She was the last member of the Host to see my Father alive and she might hold the closure I needed. "It will be done," Velma decided. "We will have your team meet you at O'Hare." "My team?" I asked. "Rachel; her team," Velma clarified. That was enough good for me. "Oh, and get Pamela a ticket as well. I'd hate to have her mug another passenger and take theirs," I sighed. Pamela patted me on the back; an 'atta boy'. (Monday Noon) (The hospital) That was not the first time I wondered about how fatal Pamela had been in her prime. In fact, I wasn't sure that post-60 wasn't her best time yet. The only mistake the police officer guarding the Amazon's hospital room made was to sit in a chair. Pamela had long ago mastered the peon-craft that Rosetta had started to teach me. The policeman looked up, stared right through her then looked the other way. His gaze never swept back in my direction. She jabbed him quickly underneath both arms, paralyzing them for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Hers hand clamped over his eyes and on his throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain before his hands could recover. He appeared to the outside world to have taken a nap. According to Pamela, we had roughly three minutes before he came around. Pamela kept walking down the hall as if nothing happened. I came ten steps behind, guarded by a gun-less Rachel as I entered the Intensive Care Unit. A few of the staff looked our way, but no one impeded our progress. According to the Duty Nurse, the Amazon had exited surgery barely an hour ago. Her eyes opened to slits as I approached her beside. "We stand before the Eye of the World," I whispered. That meant surveillance. "I cannot tell you what is in my heart. My name is Cáel Nyilas. Does that name mean anything to you?" Her hand flopped. I put two fingers into her feeble gasp. One squeeze; yes. "I am grateful for your prowess and I share in your sorrow for those who will no longer fight in this life. Please heal and grow strong for this is the start, not the finish," I completed. She squeezed my fingers once more. I stepped aside, letting Rachel take my place. They didn't exchange words but communicated volumes. We slipped out of the room while the guard was still groggy. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. That proved to be pre-sentient when a group of people with the propensity to flash IDs caught up to me at the ground floor. Had the backdrop of this fiasco not been the death of my Father, I might have enjoyed the twitching/counter-twitching going on between Rachel, who desperately wanted any one of her guns, and the cops who were picking up on that desire. "Mr. Nyilas, I am;” and the introductions came pouring in. I had Theodora Chumwell and Brock Miklos, Special Agents of the FBI, John Rios, Special Agent with the ATF, Investigator Horace Brewster from the Burnham PD and Homicide Detective Lisa Capella from the Chicago PD. "We would like to talk with you," Theodora took charge. "Can I ask a question first?" I raised my hand. That appeared to set them off their game plan. "Of course," Theodora allowed. "Okay; FBI, ATF, a homicide detective from Chicago and the only law enforcement official who has any business being here," I finished with Brewster. "I may not be a Rhodes Scholar, but this seems a bit extreme for the burglary/murder of a long-time employee of Illinois Power and Light. Does anyone care to fill me on what the hell is going on?" I looked over the group. "Oh, and thank you Investigator Brewster for your call. I know I didn't take the news well." "Was that the part where you said you would point to the dead bodies?" Theodora took charge. "Yes, I think that was the gaff I was referring to," I agreed. "Why are you here, Mr. Nyilas?" Lisa Capella jumped in. She had decided to not go along with the FBI playbook. "I came to see the woman found alive in my family home," I replied smoothly. "She is probably still in surgery," Lisa gave a twist of the lips; sex. "Oh, she got out an hour ago," I enlightened them. "Let's take this conversation to FBI Headquarters," Theodora 'suggested'; you know, in the way that really wasn't a suggestion. "Have you gone to see that woman?" Lisa wouldn't let up; good for her. It was upsetting Theodora and I'd already decided that Brewster was my go-to guy on this investigation. "Yes," I responded to Lisa. "Isn't she under police protection?" Lisa and Theodora blurted out together. "There was a policeman at her door," I shrugged. "We went in and I talked to her." "What did she say?" Theodora brushed Lisa aside. "Nothing. She had one of those tubes down her throat. Whatever I said; well, I was emotional," I evaded. "She was barely conscious." Lisa was urgently contacting her guy who was supposed to be watching the only person in custody they had. He claimed to have 'blacked out'. He couldn't remember anyone coming in to see the woman and swore he hadn't been unconscious for any length of time. He went in, checked up on the Amazon and she was fine; for someone who had been shot six times. "We should go to the FBI offices," Theodora repeated. "I'm going home," I sighed sadly. "I want to go home." "It is still an active crime scene," John told me. "There won't be any civilian access for some time." Translation: until they decided to give me the carrot instead of the stick. "Please, come with us," FBI Special Agent Brock added his weight. "No. I'm going with Burnham PD," I countered. "You can find me there." "That's not how it works," Theodora upped her authority meter. Lisa had fallen back, trying to take in the bigger picture. Brewster was clearly trying to recall if he had Any history with me, or my Dad, that would make me trust him over the others. "I may be a liberal arts major from northern New England, but I know how a larynx works," I regarded Theodora. "Unless I choose to make a sound, it does nothing. Nothing is about to be all we have left to do and say." "Don't you want to help solve your Father's murder?" Brock tried to sound both sympathetic and threatening at the same time. I was suddenly bombarded with the taste of Lime Sherbet and Jalapenos Ice Cream. "Really? Fine; I'm going to hang out with the only person in this room I know is working on my Father's murder, not on their career," I reposed. "We are all trying to;” Lisa got out. "You maybe," I gave Lisa that much. "My Father made around $70,000 a year after twenty-six years for Illinois P and L. He had almost paid off the colossal debt built up by my Mother's illness and my college expenses." "As far as I know, he took out one loan his entire life; from a bank; and he paid it off," I continued. "He was a lapsed Catholic, a member of the IBEW; Local 9, and he jogged. He barely used e-mail and had no close friends I am aware of. The only woman he loved was my Mother and he mourned her to the day he died." "What about your activity?" Theodora inquired. We weren't running off to her playground; yet. Handcuffing a grieving son would look bad and, by my attitude, wouldn't make me talkative in the least. "I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping with every woman I meet," I began. "So that's over 200 erotic encounters. I get annoyed with people throwing their weight around," I continued, "which is why you and I are getting off on the wrong foot, Special Agent Theodora Chumwell. I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments, getting paid an insane amount to fetch laundry and keep secrets. Good enough?" "No, it is not;” Theodora simmered. "How did you know about the existence of the woman upstairs and how did you know to come here?" Lisa interrupted. "I grew up in that house, know the neighbors and know this is the closest EMS center to home," I lied convincingly. "Who are you?" Brewster decided that I wasn't exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn't speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction. "Rachel Louis," Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow; not Rachel. "You are Rachel Louis, aren't you?" "Yes, she is," I intervened. "Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist." There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn't with 'misanthropic'. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist' that had them stumped. "Rachel is an unsociable man-hater," I explained. "Standing at my side in this hospital is ten kinds of Hell for her." "What kind of piece do you normal carry?" Rios asked her. Unsocial didn't mean stupid. "I use a Glock-22 and Rachel carries a STI Perfect 10," I answered. "We have been experiencing quite a gopher problem around the office." I could have done better; I should have done better. I was just too tired inside to create an inventive lie. "Do have gun licenses for those weapons?" Mr. ATF kept prodding at our cover story. "It seems Ms. Louis; is it Ms. Ms. Louis?" Brewster continued. I flashed Rachel a look which she interpreted correctly. "Yes, my name is Ms. Rachel Louis," Rachel replied. To me, "I find this distraction to be annoying. We should go." "It would seem Ms. Louis has all kinds of;” Brewster got out before Rachel snatched the wallet from his grip with the speed of a Peregrine Falcon. Brewster had this stunned look familiar to crows, doves and starlings the world over as one of their kin passed into the next life in a flash. A combination of 'No you didn't!' with 'what the flock?' "Ah;” Brewster got out. "On that note, I think we will be going," I shrugged. To Rachel, "You do not get out enough." "Can I see your wallet again?" Brewster was still confused by Rachel's rudeness. He was a cop for the love of God. People not wanting to go to jail do not snatch things from a cop's hands. "I gave you my wallet. I am not to blame if you used its time in your possession unwisely," Rachel counterattacked. "Unless there is a legal technicality, we shall be leaving. If there is a legal issue, here," she produced a business card with a flourish, "is the contact information for our legal department." Theodora took the card gingerly then read it. "Havenstone again," she mused. "Are you sure this is the path you wish to take, Mr. Nyilas?" "Are you insane?" I trembled with emotion. "I want to be back in New York, working my queue and thinking about what my date and I will be doing tonight. I want my Dad to be alive. I don't want to be thinking that the last time we talked I forgot to tell him I loved him." "Path, you Idiot!" I screamed at Theodora. Screw it, I was crying again. "Not a damn thing any of you can do will bring my Dad back to me; so fuck off!" In a strange way, that was what they had been looking for. Not my wounded soul, but my rage and pain toward a World suddenly found to be cruel and pointless. Behind my crumbling façade was another worry. Outside in the parking lot were three Amazons with weapons ready to rush to my aid. It wasn't that the Host was rash, or reckless, by nature. I was one of the fifty-six most important people in their society. Three other SD members had died in the defense of House Ishara already and they were damn sure those women would not have died in vain. I wasn't leaving in federal custody willingly and if I walked out in restraints, I wasn't sure if they would decide offing some law enforcement agents and staging my kidnapping was the best course of action. Remember, I wanted to bury my Father. They wanted to keep me alive. If those two goals collided, they would apologize after the fact. "Mr. Nyilas, I really believe we should;” Theodora got out then I brushed past her. It was a delicate moment and the chemistry between Rachel and I wasn't lost on most of them. She was a bodyguard yet my servant too. It was professional tribalism; two words that don't normally get along. Rios picked up on the other undercurrent. He recoiled from Rachel, retreating to buy space when/if Rachel attacked. Unlike the rest, he sensed that aggression by law enforcement would be met with lethal force. The Amazon didn't care about the badge and the legions of fellow officers backing it up. She was fearless. Things weren't over yet. "Mr. Nyilas, where are you going next?" Detective Lisa came after us. "I; I don't know," I muttered. "Where is my Father's body? I know he wanted to be cremated and buried beside Mom; I guess." Brewster came hurrying along. "He is at the Medical Examiner's Office," Lisa informed me. "Come with me." "Why don't you give me the address?" I sighed. "Do you and your buddy know your way around Chicago, Hometown Boy?" Lisa kept it up. She was hitting on me and lining me up at the same time. "How about we cut to the chase?" I looked at her with tear-soaked eyes. "We'll take my cars; cars with an 's'," I offered. "I am a hometown boy. I've never had a reason to locate the Medical Examiner before. Since I have a boatload of angry women with guns who will not fit into your sedan and leaving them behind isn't an option, mine is the only means of travel that makes sense." Low and behold, the two cops looked at each other then followed Rachel and I to our little caravan. We were too close for the officers to have missed Rachel snapping off some quick, coded instructions to her team; most likely to hide the seriously illegal firearms. To say the Amazons were not pleased with my decisions spoke volumes to their concern for me and lack of police experience. Pamela, who had beaten us back to the cars, seemed privately entertained as always. Rachel was reluctantly sitting up front. Lisa, Brewster and I were in the second row and Pamela sat in back. Not only did the two not get a good look at Pamela, she was perfectly placed to do all kinds of mischief unseen. "So the woman upstairs works with you?" Lisa asked as we pulled out. "Where to?" Tiger Lily (I still wasn't used to that name) requested of our Police 'buddies'. Lisa popped off the address. It was 'I'll scratch your back, you'll scratch mine'. Tiger Lily entered the data into the onboard computer and off we went. "No. She does not work for me, or my boss, directly. She was at my Father's on my behalf though I was unaware of it," I related. "Are you going to tell us what the hell happened?" Brewster prodded. "That I don't know. I am not personally aware of anyone who would want to kill my Father, or me," I answered. "Anyone who would want to get at me would come at me, not Dad," I continued. "I don't live in a fortress. It is a hardly spacious apartment near the East River. I share the place with my roommate, Timothy Denver, and a; companion by the name of Odette Sievert." "Companion? Is she; a working girl?" Lisa went searching. "No, I use the term companion to indicate she's too nice a girl for me. She's sweet, conscientious and giving. My only wish for Odette is that she finds a guy who can appreciate her a hell of a lot more than I do," I explained. "Timothy is my gay, body-building tattoo artist best friend. I've gotten the feeling he's busted some heads in his time. Hardly anything noteworthy." "Mr. Nyilas, have you ever considered that you live a very messy life?" Brewster pondered. "One does not 'consider' what one knows to be true. One knows it to be true and moves on," I grumbled. "Yes, I know I live a screwed up life." "What about your friends here?" Lisa indicated the other three women in the vehicle. This elicited another groan from me. "Investigator Brewster; Horace and Detective Capella; Lisa, please call me Cáel. This is the point I accept that I am exhausted and not in any shape to make good decisions. I'll plead the Fifth," I confessed. "We already know you were in New York when your father was murdered, Mister; Cáel," Brewster stated. "Everyone we've talked to says you and your father were very close. Barring some expensive Life Insurance policy being taken out on him, we have no reason to suspect you had a direct hand in his death. Not being a suspect, that implies you have no Fifth Amendment, or Miranda Rights to hide behind; just so we are clear," Brewster schooled me. "I can make this game of footsy easy on all of you," Pamela whispered. The officers jolted in their seats. "Cáel cannot talk to you for the very reason the Fifth Amendment exists." "You are not like the rest of this menagerie," Lisa noted. "Nah, I kill people for a living. The rest of the group has some code of conduct that keeps you two alive," Pamela smiled. Those two didn't know what to make of Pamela's statement because it was so sincere yet incredible. "If Cáel tells you anything else he will be admitting to his involvement in a criminal conspiracy. Said conspiracy is why Ferko Nyilas is dead, but Cáel had nothing to do with it," Pamela enlightened them. Fact digestion time for the two law dogs. Brewster recovered faster. "But why was Ferko Nyilas murdered?" he asked. "The men didn't come to kill him," Pamela kept talking about the tea and crumpets. "They probably showed up to escort him to a place where some far more important scumbags could talk with him." "The all-girl squad was there and Ferko was caught in the crossfire," Lisa mumbled. "Why was there a firefight if his life was in danger and both sides wanted him alive?" "Stupidity," Pamela replied. "Give any group of people guns and then surprise them, stupid shit happens; I apologize Cáel." "I don't buy that," Brewster said. "They simply started shooting at each other; no." "Okay Horace, let me break it down for you. The ladies were told to go there and guard the guy without being told why. The men who showed up were most likely told to grab Ferko without knowing why either." "That makes no sense," Lisa protested. "Congratulations. That is why Cáel can't talk to you anymore," Pamela smirked. "This is the sort of crap he has inadvertently been caught up with; no fault of his own. If he did any of this on purpose, I'd kill him myself." "He is some poor schmuck who only wanted a 7 to 5 job, to make tons of money and bedding a different girl every night," Pamela teased me. "He's no criminal mastermind, or even a convincing criminal. If he has a failing it is that he tends to merely beat up people who deserve to have their spleens ripped out instead. I'm training him to be smarter than that." "Who are you?" Brewster gawked. Pamela gave a sinister smile. Lisa looked at me. "I've fought a woman with a twelve foot stick with a pointy bit of metal at the end with little thought to my personal safety. This lady (Pamela) scares me. She is with me because I have no means of stopping her and I put saving others a great deal of pain and suffering over my own unsettled nerves." "Do you really think you are that good?" Lisa half-turned around to face Pamela. "Do you want your gun back?" Pamela offered up a police issue Glock 22, grip first. My kind of gun. How sad. I was too depressed to seduce Officer Lisa. Brewster reached around to check is firearm. It was still there, much to his relief. "How did you do that?" Lisa wondered as she retrieved and inspected her weapon. Pamela tapped Brewster's shoulder with the man's magazine. Brewster was aghast. She'd stolen his gun, taken out the ammo and returned it without him noticing. "I found it on the floor. The truth is a bit more expensive than you are willing to pay at the moment, believe me," Pamela grinned. Why had Pamela showboated? She was buying me some mental respite. She was also exhibiting to the two police folks that there might be some truth to her outlandish tale of criminal conspiracies. Unlike the other Amazons, Pamela knew we had to maintain friendly relations with some part of law enforcement if I was going to bury my Father. (The Medical Examiner's Office) So much happens in life we rarely put the timespan of events in context. Talking with a person in line who turns out to make your day better/worse, become a friend and/or a date. In a matter of a few seconds your life has been altered. Two minutes later and you would have missed getting the concert tickets where you meet your future; whomever. Two minutes sooner and you get caught in the 'speed trap' instead of the other poor sap who you drive past as they sit on the side of the road keeping the patrol officer company. His/her insurance rate goes up while you have that extra money for later. Had we arrived two minutes earlier to the morgue; disaster aborted. Two minutes later would have equated to a frustrating mystery. Life was not so kind. It was the same group as before; Detective Lisa, Investigator Horace, Rachel and I. We had just added an Assistant Medical Examiner who was going over information garnered from the autopsy with the two cops. Pamela was 'checking things out', whatever that meant. The key to it all was Rachel being Rachel. Security Detail are more than simply elite fighting-women. They are also bodyguards, security specialist and normally stack a third specialty into the mix. When Rachel spotted five armed people in the hallway right outside the Medical Examiner's autopsy room, her alertness spiked. Only one was a uniformed police officer. Rachel was still gun-less. The two EMS personnel rolling an occupied body bag out on a gurney shouldn't have had on their heavy jackets on a late June afternoon. The other two men were chatting about something. That wasn't unusual. Where they were standing was; to Lisa's experienced eye. Rachel's heightened anxiety made Lisa double-check everything. Horace didn't know what was wrong yet when Lisa's hand came to rest on her piece, he put his hand on his Ruger SR45. "Excuse me," Lisa called out. No one stopped moving. "Excuse me," Lisa demanded in a louder voice. "I am Detective Lisa Capella, Chicago Police Department; Homicide Division. What is going on?" That was a reach. Bodies exit the morgue all the time. The two people with the body made sense. The two 'odd' fellows weren't breaking any law. In cop-talk, this was called 'gut instinct'. She produced her badge. There was a quick look by the two ambulance folk to the farther of the two 'talking' men. That group were rather competent, just not competent conmen. The two EMS guys turned and tried to give Lisa a causal look. "What can we do for you, officer?" the designated diplomat asked nonchalantly. "Whose body is that?" Lisa inquired. "I'm not sure; all we do is pick 'em up and take them to the appropriate funeral home," he shrugged. "Take ten seconds and show me the release order," Lisa gave a chilly command. The cop at the far end of the hall; the one with the door that lead to the loading/unloading area, was starting to clue in that something wasn't right. "Oh, by the Great Pumpkin, this is bad," Brewster muttered under his breath like a thousand other fathers who engaged in the daily struggle to not curse at work so they wouldn't curse around their children. "Of course, Detective Capella," the diplomat nodded. "Is there a problem?" He carefully pulled out his smart phone and handed it over. Lisa wasn't born yesterday. She handed the phone to me instead of looking at it herself. She was keeping her eyes on the guys with guns. They really did have an order to transfer my Father to a mortuary. Apparently I had requested this be done; without my knowledge. "Cáel Nyilas requested his father be taken to the Green Meadows mortuary in Cicero," I informed Lisa, Rachel and Horace. "I need to talk to Mr. Nyilas," Lisa informed them. "If I can't talk to him, I can't let the body leave this building. This is an ongoing investigation." The 'diplomat' was worried yet Lisa had given him an out. After I returned his phone, he called his off-site boss, who gave him a number which the diplomat gave to Lisa. Lisa called 'me' without my phone ringing. Even so, 'I' confirmed the authorization. The four gunmen relaxed as Lisa hung up. "One more question," Lisa pulled a 'Columbo', "was this a rush job, or are you all 'not ready for prime time players'?" The 'diplomat' made one last lunge at deception. "Detective Capella, our work order is legitimate," he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what you mean?" "Funeral homes have their own uniforms; they do not dress as EMS," Lisa deconstructed their illusions. "The bodies of murder victim are not released by the Medical Examiner until a cause of death is known and that information is released to the homicide detective assigned to the case; that would be me, if there was any doubt. Your two buddies down the hall could have read and critiqued the Magna Carta in the time it has taken for you to do your 'song and dance'," Lisa pointed out. "Oh, and the real Cáel Nyilas is standing next to me. Whoever talked with me on the phone is going to jail too. Now I suggest the four of you face the wall, put your hands over your head, palms against the wall and no one will get hurt." Darwin check time; they drew their guns. Of course they drew their guns. Why would they not draw their guns considering the farthest enemy was all of 4 meters away and the only immediately cover was my Dad's horizontal corpse? Gurneys tend to be lightweight and mostly empty space. The quickest on the draw was one of the two 'talkers'. He whipped out a 357 Magnum revolver and popped two shots into the police officer next to him; right in the center mass at less than 2 meters; ouch. Rachel was next, making a diving front roll between the two cops, toward the two fake EMS guys. I was right behind her, except my plan was to vault Dad's body and get at the second talker. I was not acting sanely. The second talker went in the next split second. He had brought a sawed-off automatic shotgun to the fight. His first salvo blew a chunk out of the wall next to Lisa's hip. She was less than an eye-blink behind as she put two slugs into the 'diplomat's' armored chest. He was kind enough to drop his Mac 11 from his twitching fingers and into Rachel's hands. Less than a single heartbeat later, the 'diplomat's EMS buddy revealed his own Mac 11. His mistake was not shooting his first target; Brewster. He was tracking Rachel and me instead, hoping to catch us together in a spray of lead. The general feeling was that, for all his law enforcement experience, Investigator Brewster had never actually shot at anyone before. His cop instincts kicked into overdrive. The perpetrators appeared to be wearing body armor and possessed a small arsenal of illegal weapons. His aim tweaked up, he pulled the trigger and a 45 ACP round effectively decapitated his target; our first confirmed casualty. My encounter with the Latin Kings had been a lesson in poor tactical flexibility. This time, by unspoken agreement, the two talkers were exercising their tactical acumen as they began withdrawing toward the exit. With the short range, width of the hall and lack of cover, being shot at by a shotgun, or a 357 didn't make much difference. I was trying to jump onto the gurney and launch myself at the two when my toe caught on the bottom of Dad's body, turning my heroic rush into a face-plant on Father. The men's cover fire worked on Lisa and Horace. Lisa, being more exposed, had to dive flat. Horace crouch-ran to Rachel. Rachel, with her submachine gun, was firing a steady stream of bullets from between the gurney's top surface and bottom shelf. Her shots shattered shotgun guy's shins and blasted off his knee caps. As that bastard screamed and toppled forward, Rachel emptied the magazine into both his thighs and his right hip. By the copious nature of the blood spray, an artery had been clipped, if not severed. Horace grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me off the gurney, down to his side. Lisa fired off a few shots at the vanishing leader, but he was already out the door. Rachel was rifling the closest EMS's headless body, looking for a fresh clip for the M 11. "Don't," Horace cautioned her. Lisa was running to the door. "Rachel, leave the gun and follow me," I commanded. "Wait," Horace called out. He was in an impossible situation. The bold Assistant ME began looking for any survivors, starting with the diplomat. Detective Capella was chasing after a possible cop-killer. I was already running after Lisa and Horace couldn't ride herd on Rachel, catch me and support Lisa all at once. Rachel muttered in Hittite 'dirty goat' at my fleeting form. I was sure its true meaning was far nastier. "Da-darn it," Horace grimaced as he started rushing after the three of us. I doubted it was any consolation to Horace that Lisa shot me an evil look when I caught up to her at the loading dock. There were no cars peeling away and had the bad guy fled out the huge doors 15 meters away, she would have seen him. Rachel arrived next. "Secure my Father's body," I instructed. She wasn't pleased but she wasn't talking back either. Horace showed up last of all. He was talking over his walky-talky, updating the Chicago PD on all the crazy, tragic crap that had gone down. Rachel slipped past Horace on her way back to Dad. The unspoken order was for her to re-arm and stay close, something she couldn't do under Horace's watchful gaze. Lisa and Horace were working out a plan to take their perpetrator down and it didn't include me. I was a civilian after all. My thinking was traipsing in a different direction. They were thinking criminal evasion. I was thinking stone cold, bad-ass killer. He may have already killed one police officer in cold blood. Why not make it three? There was also the mathematics of it all. Two guns are more likely to hit a target than one; I had learned that bit of tactical insight from my time with Aya. My disadvantage was my advantage. I didn't have a gun so I didn't have to position myself so I could shoot at anyone else. "Here I go," I alerted the two officers. My body was flying onto the loading deck before they could stop me. My cockamamie idea saved my life. Maybe he thought I stumbled and lost my piece. Maybe, at the last second, he saw through my deception. Maybe he was wondering what the last episode of 'Defiance' would be like. We'll never know. According to Lisa, he was tracking my fall with his 3 57 Magnum. He didn't shoot because he only had two bullets left, hadn't been able to reload yet and his Berretta 9 mm back-up pistol was on the other side of his body. Two bullets; two cops, he was probably sure he could beat me to death. Anyway, when he figured out the sacrificial lamb was the unarmed me, he returned his aim to the entryway, Lisa and Horace. The guy wasn't behind any sort of cover. He was pressed against the wall so he wouldn't be able to bring his other pistol into play inside that first split second. When Lisa shot him, it had to hurt, but didn't put him down. She shot again; missed. He shot, missed, shot again hitting Lisa and knocking her back and down. The leader pivoted off the wall, bringing his Berretta to bare on Investigator Brewster. A lifetime inside the blink of an eye; Horace's bullet hit the criminal; major brain splatter. Poor Horace. Horace was falling onto his side, taking a wild shot and hoping to keep the gunman from shooting Lisa and I when he accidentally ended the man's existence. The lead bad guy's final shot zipped passed Horace's left shoulder, over my legs and ricocheted off the loading dock wall and into space. Good old Lisa, she staggered to her feet then stumbled over to the gunman, seeking some signs of life. He was alive. Horace's 45 slug had 'only' removed the top half of his brain so the heart and lungs were still being told to beat and breath. As she was making her own call for Emergency Services, a piece of the man's skull that had been clinging to the wall plopped down. That broke Horace. He began vomiting. I rolled over to a sitting position. Rachel peeked in then utilized her blue tooth to stop the rest of the SD team from swarming me in a public building. Cops began showing up. As soon as Detective Capella had made her initial report and dealt with the traumatic injuries among the survivors, she turned on me. "Are you insane!" she screamed at yours truly. "Yes," I muttered. "I've been trying to tell you that for over an hour now." "This is not a joking matter," Lisa moved into my personal space. Was I really so far gone I didn't want sex? Nah; I could do her. "I could have killed people." "To be fair," I stood up, "you didn't kill anyone." The policeman was clinging to life, the 'diplomat' had been saved by his body armor and the second talker's prospects didn't look promising. "Horace buried two and I'm betting the guy Rachel shot isn't going to survive having both his femoral arteries cut. Two decades of Law  and  Order has taught me that some sort of Internal Affair's investigation is going to happen. I imagine there is a great deal of surveillance video so you should be vindicated quickly. We are still going to part ways for a while," I pointed out. "Take care." I made to leave. "Where do you think you are going?" Lisa grabbed my arm. "You were involved in a gunfight in a major municipal building. You can't walk away." "Yes I can," I grunted. "Horace, I've pointed you at the dead bodies," I told the Burnham investigator. "Good luck," I patted him on the shoulder. The look he came back with wasn't one of resigned defeat. Oh no, he was going to figure out what the fuck was going on, or else. The rest of the Chicago PD wasn't letting to let us leave either, so off Rachel and I were taken to the closest Precinct where we were non-communicative. (Back with the Feds) Theodora rescued me and Rachel into Federal custody where we were equally useless. It didn't take me long to figure out that, compared to Rachel, I was being downright verbose. If me being a jackass was a bonus for the Feds, they didn't exhibit an ounce of appreciation. I really loved Special Agent John Rios getting all 'super ass-kicker' on me. I was looking at 'serious' federal jail time. I was a 'domestic terrorist' and under the Patriot Act; then I fell out of my chair laughing. I was fatigued; my ability to separate desire from reality was fading plus I always fought back with my wits before my fists. "I've been awake for thirty-six hours," I chuckled as I regained my seat. "What is your excuse for being delusional?" I snorted. "I trip up cocky bastards like you all the time," John sat on the table, hovering above me. "You think you've got all the angles covered. You don't, Mr. Nyilas. People like you take things for granted, screw up and then you are all turning on each other like rats." "Ugh," I sighed. "Fine, Brainiac, what am I doing wrong? To clarify the question for you, what crime am I involved with that makes me a criminal, a terrorist, or a criminal terrorist?" "Guns, Cáel Nyilas," John sneered. "With all the people running around with all those firearms, it is pretty freaking obvious." "Wow; uh; John;” I started. <

Oh My God! All their clothes vanished. What was I to do?In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..“Living every moment like it is your last is less attractive tomorrow.”(Still Wednesday)Katrina had left for wherever she snuck off to; I suggested to Aya it was a game room, Aya suggested it was as torture chamber; only to return when the next turn of the screws came. I was informed I had a visitor coming up by the name of Libra Chalmers plus a guest. Quickly enough they appeared. The guest turned out to be Brooke Lee."Who are these two?" Aya glibly spoke as the two Vassar girls walked into the room."Hello Libra," I greeted my almost date from last night. "Hello Ms. Lee," I said to Brooke."It's Brooke," Brooke smiled at me; she was hungry and scenting around for something remarkably like me."I'm happy to see you; oh; this is my guardian and protector, Aya Ruger," I made the introductions. "No lie, Aya has been keeping up with my workload while I've been on 'light' duty. Aya, this is Libra Chalmers and Brooke Lee, both from Vassar College. Brooke is Trent's friend and Libra had mercy on me Tuesday night and kept me from being a 'fifth' wheel.""I'm actually Trent's fiancé," Brooke corrected."Fascinating," I lied. Oh fuck, that was Not good."Cool. I'm happy to see the both of you, but what brings you to my office today?" I continued."Well, I showed up to ask for Trent and Libra asked for you," Brooke gave a sly smile."The thing was," Libra picked up the tale, "they were looking up Trent, but the front desk knew exactly who and where you were; so we came here first." My mind was busily working out how to pull Aya aside to give her a friendly warning when Katrina waltzed in."Ladies, this is my boss, Katrina Love, Head of Executive Services for Havenstone," I plastered a smile on my face."Katrina, this is Brooke Lee and Libra Chalmers. I met them Tuesday night," I kept things simple. Doom was impatient."Brooke is Trent's fiancé," Aya chimed in gleefully. She wasn't being malicious. She just didn't know any better. Katrina had been in the process of giving some congenial nods.She stopped and turned on a dime. Damn it."Really?" Katrina's interest was piqued."Yes," Brooke beamed. She brandished her engagement ring in Katrina's face. Better yet, Katrina 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed then spun on me."Cáel, I didn't know Trent was engaged," Katrina pierced me with those lethal ocular devices."Yeah, I bet you didn't," I groaned. "I only found out a moment ago." Trent had lied on his dating survey; slash application to Havenstone. They kinda/sorta made damn sure we had no external female attachments. It meant less bodies to dispose of if things went wrong.I couldn't understand how they missed it then a curious custom/lifeline reared its ugly head."Brooke, that's your 'promise' ring, right?" I probed. "I'm sure Trent would get you a bigger rock for the actual engagement.""Yes," Brooke confirmed. "We've decided to make the official engagement when our families take the Christmas Holiday at Hilton Head."How could I express to Brooke that Christmas with Trent at Hilton Head was a rapidly vanishing dream? Katrina resumed her stroll to her desk."Katrina," I started my appeal. My argument was going to be that 'promise' rings didn't really count even though I knew her omission on his survey/application was bad enough already. Brian was different. If he chose to 'follow his career', she'd shed the prerequisite 17 tears and happily get on with her life. Girls like Brooke came looking and that wouldn't do."No," Katrina didn't even turn around. When she got to her desk, the phone calls began. Brooke was starting to realize something had happened. I gained a level of importance that extended beyond my bedroom sexpertise."Cáel, is something wrong?" Libra took my hand in hers."Trent may have neglected to mention some things during his job interview," I explained."Like?" Libra was getting concerned."Like the existence of Brooke," I answered. See, if Trent had written down his acquaintance to Brooke, Havenstone would have investigated her in the same way they investigated my mentor, Dr. Kimberly Geisler. She had admitted to the length, depth and termination of our affair.The issue of her teaching me anything besides sex had never come up."What?" Brooke grew indignant. Not with Trent, but with me. See, I was still a peon in her eyes and casting dispersions on her guy, who she knew and trusted."Brooke," I sighed, "did any Havenstone personnel talk to you about Trent?""No," she admitted."Every single woman I was ever with was questioned about me and my relationship to them," I explained. "Trust me; that was a really long list." Libra had the answer to that confusion. She pulled out her phone and got a busy signal; that would be Havenstone' now-active jamming devices."What's the number?" I asked Libra. She was momentarily annoyed; then suspicion kicked in. She gave me the number. Caller ID indicated it was Marla, Libra's sister. I gave the phone up."Marla," Libra began, "did anyone from Havenstone Commercial Investments ever talk to you about Cáel?""Umm, is he in trouble because of what I said?" Marla asked."What did you say?" Libra eyed me."I said he was a total asshole who broke my heart and given the opportunity I wouldn't mind watching he die a painful death," she confessed. "Only later did I realize I missed him and felt sorry about what I said.""Do you know if they talked to any of his other former girlfriends?" Libra inquired."I am absolutely sure they talked to at least one other person," Marla mumbled. Her Aunt."Who? I need to talk to them," Libra continued."That wouldn't be wise," Marla responded. "Suffice it to say they didn't give a glowing review either." Libra hung up and gave me back my phone."Cáel, do you have a problem with women?" Brooke glowered at me."Yes, there are so many of them," I shrugged. "That seems to be my main issue.""Cáel, how many women have you been with?" Libra mused."Around 200," I acceded."200! Holy Shit!" Libra gasped. Out of the blue,"Of those, how many have dumped you for cheating only to come back to you later?" Katrina postulated."Around 40," I recalled."That's my Daddy!" Aya crowed proudly."What?" Brooke boggled."Not what you think!" I insisted. "Not what you think!""Aya is my niece," Katrina explained. "Cáel is not her biological father. He is her friend, paternal guide and guardian.""Aya and I are in negotiations about me eventually marrying her mother, but I have assured her that is years and years off," I added."Cáel is not my real Daddy," Aya clarified. "He lets me pretend that he is.""Besides Cáel, does that 200 include the past month?" Katrina diverted the conversation."Well; 200 as in closer to 200 than 300," I grinned weakly."How did you graduate?" Libra followed along."I have a lot of stamina," I pointed out. Tessa Carmichael glided into the room."Brooke Lee?" she greeted the not-here-for-me girl."Yes? Do I know you?" Brooke was getting nervous and snippy."I'm Tessa Carmichael, Director of Human Resources for Havenstone. I handled the final interview process for Trent Grant," she smiled with deceptive warmth. She was furious. I could tell, having a long history with women in such moods."Is that Lee; L-E-E?" Tessa continued."Yes, what is this about?" Brooke persisted."You and Mr. Grant are in a long term relationship?" Tessa asked next."Answer my question," Brooke snapped. Thankfully Tessa wasn't Elsa."Trent lied on both his initial application and then twice in the interview process," Tessa relayed calmly."About dating me?" Brooke was confused."We will explain in a moment," Tessa smiled and patted Brooke on the upper arm.Brooke and Libra were more poised than I believed was warranted. Suddenly, I peeled back eleven days of experience and realized they assumed that Aya's presence was some sort of armor against violence. Whoops. Olympia Shore entered the room followed by Trent. Bright yet careless, he immediately clued in on the crisis."Brooke;” Trent mumbled. Olympia shut the door once Trent was too far inside to run."Trent, what is going on? They say you didn't list me as an acquaintance and somehow that's important," Brooke grumbled."I; um; I can explain," Trent was addressing; the room?"Be at peace, Trent," Tessa took over. This was her job and her fuck-up. "We only need your assurance that your relationship with Ms. Lee was terminated before you signed your contract with Havenstone Commercial Investments." Trent was looking for the right answer that would make everyone happy, but there wasn't one.Had he warned me yesterday that Brooke was his lady, I could have warned Brooke to NEVER come here. Trent hadn't done that because it would have necessitated him explaining to Brooke that he had denied her existence in order to get a cushy job. Trent had deluded himself into thinking he could have it both ways, probably because lying had always worked before."I think there has been a misunderstanding," Trent began. The most important thing in the world to Trent was Trent and he could outfox these backwoods feminists. "I am willing to submit my resignation immediately over this unfortunate mistake." That was a feint. Sadly, the important ladies had zero faith in his words and had already decided his fate. Moron.

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