Podcasts about Kneeling

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

Dallas Attorney Jeremy Rosenthal asks the question: When does free speech become obstruction of justice? It's a big part of this case

Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 4 Trouble In Paradise By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents' house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, it was good work if you can get it. It was 10 hundred hours on the first Thursday of my first week at Foxx Inc. when I was reminded that, as much fun as it was, fucking, or rather servicing, the women of the firm was still a job. The best, most awesome, craziest fun job possible, yes, but still a job. 10:00 when I received my first all-too-terse email from HR, the delectable Ms. Olson. It was a calendar appointment for 10:15 under the title, "Performance Review." This made me not a little nervous. After all, I'd been on the job for all of three days and a wakeup. That morning had started with an off the hook romp with a tiny blonde from bookkeeping. I thought it had gone pretty darn well, yet here I was, not fifteen minutes after showering post romp, when this performance review threw a monkey wrench into the works. There was no doubt the blonde and the review were connected, and it was very much bothering me that I did not know why. I was finishing my second bottle of pineapple juice for the morning when I heard the click and Ms. Olson walked into my office. I stood, said, "Good morning," and gestured to a chair. Her look was unusually serious as she took the offered seat. She looked at me with a level gaze and said, "Really Mr. Jeffries. I thought the first complaint would take longer than three days." "Complaint?" I repeated, trying to remain calm even as I contemplated losing the best job in the history of employment. She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. Yes, but more of a, 'I asked for the dressing on the side' than a 'I demand this person be fired' kind of complaint. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. She continued, "I'd like to be sure I have the facts straight before we discuss corrective action." Once again, it was unreal how well her phrasing matched with my nuclear submarine background. She seemed to be waiting on me, so I simply said, "Of course, that makes sense." "Good," she said. "Now, let's begin at the beginning. When Ms. Cartwright came into your office this morning at 0 9 15, did she present her secondary badge?" "Yes, she did." "Presuming you examined it, what codes did you see?" she asked, her expression still stern. I thought about it for only a second, the combination was a vivid memory. It was a bit difficult to be this direct with her even after working here a few days. "Well, from top to bottom, NCL, FFK, ANO and CAN." "I'm impressed by your memory of the codes, but I am more interested in what they meant to you." I shifted in my seat and she immediately noticed. The eyebrow went up again. "Don't get bashful on me Thomas, I'm quite serious," she said. I cleared my throat, then said, "Yes, well, those mean; 1.       name calling, er, 2.       face fucking, 3.       anal only, and 4.       come wherever you like that I didn't say to avoid " She smiled, but with clarity rather than mirth. "Good, of course you are correct. Now that we are clear on terminology and meaning, I have a few questions for you as I try to determine what really happened during your encounter earlier. Please answer as succinctly as you can." She waited for me to nod my understanding before continuing. "Mr. Jeffries," she said like an attorney examining a witness, "when you had your cock in Ms. Cartwright's mouth, would you characterize the event more as fellatio or facefucking?" You know, even after a crazy few days, this woman could leave me speechless. "I, er, well," I stammered. Her expression did not change, "I'm fairly sure you comprehend the difference, Mr. Jeffries, do you not?" I nodded, "I do." Rather than prompting me, she waited for me to speak. I finally did. "I would have to say more like fellatio." She smiled again, the same hard smile of an attorney winning a point. "That was her account as well. Now, how many times did you use a derogatory term with her, like cunt or slut?" This was a really fucked up Thursday, I have to say. "Once or twice? I guess? I don't really remember." "Is it possible that your execution of 'name calling'", she used air quotes, "was limited to one use of the term 'slut'?" I sighed, "Yes." She nodded, "Now, did you, or did you not touch her anus with one or more fingers?" My mouth fell open before I could catch it. I stammered, "Um, yes, yes I did. But," "What Mr. Jeffries? Are you going to provide some kind of reason for the unwanted touching?" she scolded me. "Well, I thought," "You thought the unwanted touching was actually wanted?" "Well, no, I thought it was necessary to," "Stop!" she barked. I say barked because she raised her voice suddenly. I mean, it wasn't a yell or a scream, just something akin your Chief saying "shut it!" "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume your actions were intended to lubricate Ms. Cartwright prior to penetration. Would that be correct?" Again I let out a breath. It seemed odd to be on the verge of getting canned for the offense of lubing up a coworkers asshole before you plowed her. Then again, that I should find that odd was the weirdest kind of surreal. "Yes, Ms. Olson, that was my intent." She nodded. "And why do you suppose, you essentially had Ms. Olson perform fellatio rather than fucking her face, as she requested?" When I did not immediately answer she added, "And why did you simply call her a slut once when she requested name calling?" Now that kind of threw me for a loop, and my expression must have said so. I didn't have an answer right away. She used the "60 Minutes" interview technique and remained quiet, staring at me while I tried to compose an answer. After some time I said quietly, "Because I'm not entirely comfortable doing those things." Now her face broke into an honest, warm smile. "Okay Tom, now we can talk." She stood and slowly paced around the room. "Tell me, have any of the women here asked you to pinch them quite hard?" "Sure," I said quickly. "Ah. And have any of them wanted you to pull their hair? Pin their arms down?" "Um, yes," I said. "Okay. Assuming that those things are generally more uncomfortable than pressing lube into one's ass, why do you suppose you were okay not questioning their requests?" she said, and stopped to look at me. Her expression was kind of like a teacher, waiting for me to figure out the right answer. It took a minute before something registered. It did not make me feel better. I suddenly had the realization that while my 'hard no's' were off the table, everything else was expected of the PBS. "I suppose because I like to do those things." She smiled, pleasantly. She sat down again. "That is a very enlightened thing for a twenty something to figure out. I'm once again quite pleased with myself for finding and hiring you. Yes, you are entirely correct. You are a considerate, caring, and talented lover. And as you have only your experience as a guide, you will find Foxx Inc. is both simpler and more challenging. You don't need to figure out what these women want. Your job is to provide what they need. What they ask for. Mostly they will ask for it directly, and that is their responsibility. But it may be challenging if what they want is not typically your cup of tea. If you had throat fucked Jenny Cartwright until she couldn't talk for a day, that would be on her. If you had pounded her ass so she worked standing up for a week, that would be on her. Asking you to throat fuck her and instead requiring her to blow you, is on you." Again, I was deeply intrigued. She went on, "If I want to get reamed with no lube, then all I have to do is put ANO on my badge and present my ass to you without getting ready." She saw I was still staring, "Most, if not all, wouldn't do that." I gulped, "I'm not sure how to go about that level of acting." She stood and shrugged, "Not my problem. However, I am prepared to give you a bit of training." "Training?" I said. The confusion no doubt obvious on my face. She smirked, "First a couple of thoughts. Psych yourself up, give yourself a moment to get into character. It need not be instantaneous, especially if the request throws you for a loop. But yes, training." She turned to leave, but looked back at me as she put her hand on the door handle, "And for that, Ms. Cartwright will be back to reassess you at 13 hundred. Do make me proud Thomas." And with that she left. I pondered my future for a good ten minutes before I returned to one of my favorite movie quotes, "There is no fate but what we make." And that meant I had to accept one thing above all else, get off on whatever the woman wanted. After another ten minutes I was still wondering if I could do it. I sat and stared at the ceiling until just after noon, then went to the cafeteria to get lunch. As I have not mentioned it until now, the uniform I sported that day was that of a brown truck deliveryman, complete with brown socks and sneakers. The deliveryman's name was 'Hank.' If Ms. Cartwright had said anything untoward about me after our morning encounter, none of the women eating lunch seemed to be affected. Those that knew me, and those that just knew who I was, either looked at me and smirked, grinned, gave me no notice or perhaps a slight wave. Cindy, aka Velma, from IT caught my eye and gestured me to come over. She looked at my name tag as I sat down across from her. "Hey, Hank, how are you today?" I shrugged and she added, "I guess you don't have a delivery for me this afternoon?" "Truth is I don't really know the delivery schedule," I said without much enthusiasm as I dug into my sandwich. Cindy gave me a long wink, "No? From what I heard you need to make a couple of deliveries to the, ah, rear entrance. If you get my meaning." I swallowed heavily, "I see. And if you were making such a delivery, would you have any advice?" Her face lit up with a full smile, "Well, as you know, I tend to take my deliveries via the main entrance. But from what I've heard, the loading dock back there is reinforced. You could really just slam into it and the delivery van and the dock would be just fine. But that's just the packages, mostly. You could deposit any, ah, loads, through the back door, or right on the front porch." When I didn't say anything she leaned forward, resting her considerable chest on the table and lowering her voice, "Or perhaps I need to be more blunt?" "No, no," I said quietly, "that's not necessary. But how did," She silenced me with a very brief gesture, "Jenny is a talker, and between us, the least likely person you would ever expect to be a sub, and then only sometimes." At this point I was sporting a half woody and my thoughts about my 13 hundred meeting had changed quite a bit. "Thanks Cindy. I'm really looking forward to another romp with Velma." She smiled broadly, "I'm sure she is as well." And with that we concluded our meals in relative silence. Back in my office I had about thirty minutes to consider how to play my 'do over', as we used to say in the Navy, before the arrival of one Jenny Cartwright. It was right about then that I remembered a small box in the top left hand drawer of my desk, labeled, 'In Case Of Emergency.' That seemed a bit strong for my current situation, but I opened the drawer and picked up the box to check it out. Opening it I spied what looked like a couple dozen diamond shaped blue pills. Well, that was one way to be sure you could get hard, but that wasn't really my problem. Truth is, knowing that Jenny wanted me to use her mouth and her ass had me nearly ready to go. And then my memory flashed back to my interview last Friday. To Ms. Olson's mention of a former girlfriend and lover, Tilly, and some of the crazy encounters we'd had. On one such occasion she had somehow acquired a couple tabs of viagra and suggested we spent the weekend 'sport fucking' as she called it. Aside from having to force my erection into submission with ice a couple times (that 4 hour erection warning was one I took seriously), we'd fucked literally for hours. Only stopping to come up for air, food and water. By the middle of the weekend we'd figured out how to only stop for restroom breaks. But there was a particular thing I'd discovered about myself that weekend, and a certain Ms. Cartwright was about to be the beneficiary of that knowledge. I made a quick call to Ms. Olson about a closely related topic, and she confirmed I was on solid ground unless Ms. Cartwright let me know otherwise. At a quarter to one I took half a tablet, sat behind my desk, and waited for my 'service' appointment. Promptly at 13 hundred the key reader chimed and the door lock 'clicked' loudly. Entering my office was Jenny Cartwright. Blonde, very attractive, modest b-cup breasts, and now sporting a skirt and three inch heels. Her expression was neutral as she regarded me, "Mr. Jeffries," she said. I gestured her to come forward, "Don't know who the fuck that is." I poked a thumb toward my name tag, "Name's Hank. And you must be the cunt tried to get me fired this morning." To my surprise and pleasure, she seemed surprised and taken aback. That, or she was a really great actress. "Lemme see your badge already," I said, and she handed it to me. While her card this morning had been labeled with a list, now it was a word cloud, and with all the code words in the same size font there was clearly no priority. Taking a deep breath I paused and considered what was there. Name calling, face fucking, choking, ass fucking, and come pretty much anywhere you like. I didn't need to check to know I was sporting an iron hard cock. I backed the chair away from my desk and stood, proudly displaying said cock as I had taken off my shorts and underwear. Again she seemed surprised. "Get on your knees and open your mouth, bitch, or I'll let Ms. Olson know what really happened this morning." When she didn't immediately move to do so, I went right up to her, put my hands firmly around her neck and squeezed just enough to show I meant it. As I pressed down she sank to her knees. I relinquished my grip on her throat and gathered up a handful of her shoulder length hair. When I poked my cock against her lips and she didn't open her mouth, I used my other hand to pinch her nose closed. She looked up at me with a bit of fear in her eyes, and the second she exhaled I jammed my cock into her open mouth. I got grazed by a couple teeth, but I wasn't deterred. Her hands pushed at my thighs as I held myself halfway into her mouth. "I'm pretty sure you've got the talented tongue of a slut, so get using it," I said as I started to thrust slowly in and out of her mouth. She responded as she had this morning, rather enthusiastically running her tongue over the head of my cock. But this time, I knew that was the wrong move. It was time to start making her earn what she wanted. When I heard her exhale I thrust my cock slowly and fully into her mouth and back into her throat. Her eyes popped and she looked up at me as I held myself there, blocking her windpipe. She batted at my thighs, and after a count of ten I pulled back and watched as she coughed, spit, and gasped for air. The instant she had a breath I started to fuck her mouth with slow, long strokes. She gagged a little, and I didn't let it stop me. I repeated this move, keeping her guessing as to when she would get to breathe and just how deep I would go. The viagra was helping me hold off, but just barely. It was after several minutes of this I noticed her hands were busy under her skirt. "So the slut gets off on a face fucking, huh?" And with that I actually tried to fuck her throat like a cunt for about a minute. By the end her face was a complete mess and the smell of sex in the air was strong. It appeared I might be on the right track after all. Still controlling the movement of her head with a handful of her hair, I pulled out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back in the middle of the fluffy rug. I threw her skirt upward, then pulled her top up over her breasts. Her hands had gone back to rubbing her cunt and she wasn't wearing any panties. I let go of her hair and put my hand on her throat, pushing enough to let her know I was still in charge. Kneeling between her thighs, I pushed one leg back then placed the head of my cock against her asshole. "Always nice to see a dirty cunt play with herself while I pound her ass." She was looking me right in the eye as I started to push forward. To my surprise, she was clenched. Well, I figured, if that's what she wants. And with that I bucked into her with all my power. I did not anticipate what happened next. Her back arched, her breath caught, her eyes flew wide open and then rolled back, and she came like a bomb. She didn't make a lot of noise, but as I fucked her delightful ass she bucked and thrashed and moaned and squeaked like some kind of crazy ride at a sex carnival. I swear you almost needed cowboy training to stay in the saddle. After twenty or so seconds she seemed to come back to earth, which is when she looked at me in surprise, "You, you're still going?" she panted. At this I decided it was time to end round one and give her a reward. I moved my hand once again to her hair and held her head to the floor. "Since my little ass-slut asked for it," I said, feeling myself getting very close to coming. She seemed to try and push at me, and that tripped the trigger. At once I withdrew from the tightness that was her ass and crawled up next to her face. She might have tried to look away, but I held her in place as I groaned aloud as my climax hit. I burst all over her face, covering her with shot after shot as my ejaculation went on. She sputtered as my come landed on her mouth, then her eyes and forehead. I shouted as I peaked, then shuddered as I squirted a bit more on her. And now it was time for the surprise. Letting go of her hair I grabbed both ankles and flipped her onto her belly. Straddling her ass I once again lined up my cock with her ass. That weekend with Tilly had revealed that while on viagra I could enjoy a refractory period without actually losing my erection, provided I kept the stimulation to a minimum. So I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to play out when I unceremoniously sank my cock back into her ass. I was greeted with a guttural 'Ugh' as I pushed into her ass. I moved very little, and while she seemed to be trying to do so, my weight was positioned to all but prevent that. I held myself inside her, my hips hard up against her ass. She turned her come covered face to look at me, "Still, hard?" "Nice cunt like you has such a great ass, it's really motivating." I gave her a stroke now and then, careful to never let my head past her tight sphincter. I could tell by her movements she was getting restless. She'd already come once, I'd come on her face, and yet here I was firmly ensconced in her ass...and hard as anything ever was. She bucked her hips a couple of times, groaned, then clenched her ass around me. Still, she said nothing. Finally, after more than a few minutes and with her still anally impaled on my (happily proud of it) still quite hard cock, she turned that come covered visage toward me, tried to blow some hair (that was stuck stuck to her face with come) out of her face and said in a low and tired voice, "How, how are you still going?" I leered at her, putting my hands in the small of her back and shifting my weight to them as I pulled mostly out of her. With her now deliciously pinned under me, I grunted, "We're just getting started." And I lunged into her, to be rewarded with a grunt of her own. I worked my strokes up to a full on rapid pounding, urged on by the feeling that I now knew I'd be able to come again. After a good few minutes of this, she began moaning. And that was when things changed a bit. As her moaning got louder she was starting to try and say something, but it was like my cock kept forcing her breath out. She was kind of frantically wiggling under me, and it looked like she was trying to get her hands under her, but she couldn't. Then I heard her moan something, "So, unnggh, clooose," she said. As I continued to pound her without mercy, she was groaning out those words like a mantra. "So," pant, pant, "close." Over and over. And then, "Please." Slowing just a bit, I said, "Please what?" "Got. To. Touch. My, ugh, clit." "I don't know, nice ass slut like you? That must be terrible," I said. "Please!" She pleaded. "And why should I after all the trouble you've caused me? I'm about to fill you up whether or not you get off." "What do you want?" she asked. "Oh no, I'm not falling for that, but I do think your clenching asshole is just what I need to finish myself." On a down stroke I held myself fully inside her, seized her wrists and held them behind her with one of my hands. Then, I shifted us so we were on our sides, and I moved her top leg back over me, spreading her lewdly. I put my free fingers to her mouth,"get 'em wet." And she did without protest. I renewed my pounding of her ass and her breathing got really shallow. I figured she must be so close it nearly hurt. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do with your cunt." "Ugh, tug my clit. Please." I kept up my pace, and when I knew I was close I said, "I'm going to make you come now, because it'll feel great for me," and with that I took her clit between my fingers and began to pull it up and down, pinched between her slippery smooth lips. The result was immediate. She grunted, her whole body seized up, and then she started to let out a wail. The subsequent spasming of her ass sent me over the edge as well, and I erupted into her ass. I continued to pump her rear full of cum as I slammed against her ass with every thrust. By the time I was done, she'd become a limp, tired out noodle. Finally spent, I pulled out of her with a distinct squelching sound, and turned to go use the facilities. "Nice fuck, I guess you can stick around." After relieving myself I opened the door to find her holding her clothes and waiting for her turn. Her face was a mess, but her expression was a nice mix of satisfaction, exhaustion, and 'I've just been thoroughly fucked.' She passed me without saying anything. I smiled to myself as I put my brown shorts back on and resumed my seat behind the table. She emerged a few minutes later, looking much more presentable; however, it appeared the 'I just got rogered but good' expression was going to be around a bit longer. As she reached the door she turned to me and said, "Have a good afternoon, Hank." I nodded, "It's off to a good start so far." About twenty minutes later I was working on rehydrating when my phone rang, "PBS," I said. I recognized Ms. Olson's voice at once, "You were an excellent find, Tom. I understand there is some special technique I need to learn more about?" I chuckled, "Reserved for only the hardest cases, Ms. Olson." "Touche, Mr. Jeffries, touche," and she hung up. After the last several hours I decided to take a nap, and I was still soundly asleep when I awakened to the feeling of a breast being pressed against my lips. I parted my lips and fastened onto a nipple. An unknown voice said, "I'm glad you're awake now." As the breast and nipple pulled back, I saw an asian looking woman I did not immediately recognize. She tugged at my shorts and I lifted my hips obligingly as I looked at her badge. FOX, VSX and NIX, it read. That translated to my mind as 'I'm going to blow you, and then I'm going to fuck you, and please do anything and everything with my breasts that you like.' Her breasts were on the largish side, but not huge, and she knelt on the couch next to me as she took my cock into her mouth. I relaxed back into the cushions and enjoyed playing with her tits as she blew me. It was a great combination. After several minutes she pulled off me and told me to lay on the rug (which I had changed out after mashing Ms. Cartwright's come covered face into it an hour ago). As I repositioned, she removed her clothes and draped them over a chair. Her pubic hair was limited to a fine strip, and her lips were visibly wet and flared. She straddled my hips and leaned forward, offering her breasts to me. I mauled them with my hands, my tongue, my lips, my teeth, and pinched and kneaded them for all I was worth. Moments into this she was moaning like crazy, and she angled her hips and took me inside her. With the viagra still in my system I was hard as a pipe. My partner, now identified as Janey Soo, clearly approved as she rode me like I was a proverbial bucking bronco. However, this bronco was ready to be broken, so I just lay there and let her do all the work. Well, that and I continued my thorough enjoyment of her tits. Her pace picked up and she was madly riding me, sliding her hips back and forth and quickly stroking us both toward a climax. "Suck 'em and nibble on them, Hank. Time for the finish," she said. I did as she asked, squeezing her full tits with a firm grip and sucking on her nipples like my life depended on it. She groaned, then said, "Come in me, Hank. Come in my cunt." Next to someone saying 'come on my face,' those are the words that get me every time. I groaned and grunted to let her know I was about to come, and she did not disappoint. Somehow her stride got just a bit faster, but stayed right on a steady pace. I felt myself go over the edge and knew she would have a full cunt soon. My verbalizations triggered her, and then her gyrations got a bit wilder. She rode me through a great climax, complete with handfuls and mouthfuls of tits and nipples. What a happy way to go. Finished, she leaned down and kissed me, hard, on the mouth. It was a kiss full of passion even though we had both just come. My hands, of course, never let go of her tits. And when she broke the kiss and started to rise, I still had a firm grip on them. Placing her hands over mine she gently pulled them away. "You've got to let go now," she said with a smirk. I grinned and laced my fingers behind my head. She stood and started dressing. "Until the next time," I said. She blew me a kiss, "Looking forward to it." And just like that, the day that started so poorly ended quite nicely. Oh, I should mention that I had many, many more odd encounters with Ms. Cartwright, and the most unexpected of those is worth its own, out of sequence, story. By PtmcPilot for Literotica

The AP's Eric Tucker reports some former FBI agents are taking Director Kash Patel and the Trump administration to court, saying they were unjustly punished for trying to defuse a George Floyd protest.

Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 3 Job Performance Medical Testing By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Come in," she called. I entered the medical exam room to find her standing in a white uniform with white two inch heels, her hair now down, and most strikingly, the top three buttons on her uniform undone. I couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra, but the cleavage she was sporting could almost put Christina Hendricks to shame. She held out a hand and I passed her the clipboard. "Please sit here," she said, motioning to a chair that was also equipped with an apparatus for me to sit my arm on while a blood sample was taken. She reviewed my medical history, making notes and asking me questions every now and then. Then she donned a pair of latex gloves and prepped some sample vials. "Are you allergic to rubbing alcohol or latex?" She asked. "No," I said, and moved the armrest into position. She frowned at me, removed my arm from the rest and moved it out of the way. Then she moved the armrest into position and positioned my arm upon it. I didn't get it, but I let her do as she wanted. "Please keep your arm here while I sterilize." She raised an eyebrow and said, "Hmm. I think this will go better if you acknowledge my orders more precisely." I nodded. She smiled, "Do you understand?" As Ms. Olson had said, she was precise, and I was beginning to understand something about this woman. "I understand, Nurse Jenkins. I will keep my arm here while you sterilize." For my words I was rewarded with that brilliant smile. She broke the seal on an alcohol wipe, then held my wrist as she thoroughly scrubbed the inside of my elbow. Next she picked up a tourniquet strap and tied it around my upper arm. "Please make a fist and squeeze three times, holding on the last," she said. "Make a fist and squeeze three times, holding on the last, aye," I repeated back as if in the Navy again. Her cheeks flushed and her nostrils flared (I swear they did), as she produced the sample syringe, selected a vein, and stuck me for the sample. She was well practiced and it was a good stick. After drawing two vials she pulled the syringe and applied a square of gauze, "Apply pressure," she said as she disposed of the syringe and then started to invert the sealed vials a few times. "Apply pressure, aye," I said, and she smiled again. She took the vials to a nearby machine, where she inserted the tubes and pressed a few buttons. Then she returned, bringing an elastic, self stick bandage with her. She took the gauze from me and applied a new piece, "Apply pressure," she said. I repeated back the order, and was rewarded with another bright smile as she applied the bandage. She then stood and motioned for me to follow her. "Employment does require verification that you are drug free, so next up is the urine sample." She crooked an eyebrow at me, "Are you sufficiently hydrated to provide a sample at this time?" I checked, yep. "Yes, Nurse Jenkins." "Do you typically suffer from stage fright? As they say?" She asked. "Um, no Nurse Jenkins," I said, though in truth I was certain I had never tried whatever it was she appeared to have in mind. Then she laughed and handed me a specimen jar. "I'm just messing with you," and she pushed me into the small restroom and shut the door. She came back a couple minutes later and took the now filled, sealed and cleaned specimen bottle from me. "Now, Tom, please remove your clothes and put on the gown over there. Be sure the gown opening is to the front." I'll go easy on you here and just say I continued to repeat back all of her instructions verbatim. Her expression was not so much professional detachment as it was desire when I finished the repeat back. Apparently such over the top verbal obedience was high on her list of triggers. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I took off my clothes, folding them and setting them on a shelf. Now nude, I picked up the gown and pulled on the sleeves with the opening in the front. Now, normally such gowns tie in the back and the opening starts somewhere just over your ass. In this configuration the opening started at my belly button, putting everything on display. However, I wasn't really surprised. I knocked on the door and her voice replied, "Come in." Entering the room she gestured to the exam table. I noticed it was now pleasantly warm in the room. "Please sit and we will review your medical history and start the skin survey." I sat down, with my now semi-hard cock pointing up from my groin. And it was in this configuration, with me mostly naked and her sitting fully clothed only a few feet away and right in front of me, that we discussed my medical history for the next twenty minutes. Seemingly satisfied with the evaluation, she set the clipboard aside and washed her hands again. "Now, Tom, I find it best to conduct the exam of your epidermis with my bare hands. If you have any objections I will switch to gloves of course." Of course, I thought. Then she asked, "Do you have any objections to my use of bare hands?" Shaking my head, I said, "No objections Nurse Jenkins." She beamed at me, then said, "Very well. Please remove the gown and lay down on your chest and I will examine your back first." I gave the repeat back and added, "Yes nurse". Then I pulled the knot loose, dropped the gown to the floor and turned and lay down on my chest. It was at this point I realized the only purpose of the gown was to reinforce the fact she was fully clothed and I was definitely not. No sooner was I lying on my chest when I felt her hands on my feet. Her fingers alternately stroked, pressed, probed and felt my skin. She took her time, asking about various moles, small scars, and other things of interest. As she went over my thighs and ass, I started to get aroused again even though she wasn't really doing anything to directly elicit such a response. She seemed to sense my discomfort as she worked on my lower back. "Please roll to your left side," she said. Rather than repeat this, I simply rolled as directed. She took hold of my stiffening cock and adjusted its position before rolling me back onto my belly. She then finished her examination of my backside, informing me I would have follow ups with a dermatologist for two odd looking moles, just to be sure. "Now roll over to your back please," she said, and I did. Once again she started at my feet and worked her way up to my scalp, skipping my groin. All the attention had me once again hard and ready for whatever was next. I didn't have to wait long. "Mr. Jeffries, at this time I would like to get you comfortable for the final portions of the exam." I nodded to indicate she should continue. "I will be manually examining your testicles, very carefully, to look for any lumps. You do know your age bracket is most at risk for testicular cancer?" I was lying on my back, nude, as the nurse ran her hands over my balls, cupping them snugly. I didn't try to hold back a groan. "Yes, nurse." "When complete I will perform a digital exam of your prostate, followed shortly by collection of a sperm sample." I groaned and acknowledged her, ready for whatever she had in mind to make that last part happen. "Mr. Jeffries, while most commonly a prostate exam is conducted with the patient bent forward over the table, I suggest we avail ourselves of the equipment present to make you most comfortable." "I, um, don't understand." She leaned forward and put her face right in front of mine, "Scoot your ass down the table and put your feet in the stirrups." Now that gave me pause. While I understood women getting into that position, I wasn't sure about my doing it. The pause was just long enough to draw a reprimand. Her face was still right in front of mine as her hand holding my balls changed from fondle to control, but well short of anything painful. "Mr. Jeffries, is there a concern you would like to voice?" Her grip shifted from control to fondle, and back. With her still holding onto me I adjusted my position on the table as instructed, "No, Nurse Jenkins," I groaned as she manipulated me. Then she let go of me and helped my feet into the stirrups, my calves resting on the pads. Then, in another surprise, she attached a Velcro strap to each. She then moved her chair and sat very close to me, taking my balls in her hand and very carefully palpating them. My cock, completely hard as a result of her manipulation, dripped onto my belly. I don't know how long she took for the exam, but there was quite the puddle when she was done. I figured she was done when she made a tight ring with her thumb and forefinger at the base of my cock even as she continued to hold my balls. "Mr Jeffries?" She said, and I looked down at her as she extended her tongue and started to lick my balls. My eyes rolled up and I groaned. She then ran her tongue up the length of my cock, twirled her tongue around my head, then licked up the puddle of precum. As my cock reached a state of full hardness she said, "Now we shall move on to the prostate exam and the sperm sample." Letting go of my cock, she stood and handed me a bulb shaped bit of silicone. "At some point during the process I will bring you to orgasm. At any time you feel you may ejaculate you are to inform me and pop that receptacle onto the head of your penis. Do you understand?" I nodded and said, "Yes nurse." Then she made an unnecessary show of putting on one latex glove and thoroughly lubricating her hands. Then she held the base of my cock and rubbed my balls as her gloved hand rubbed my perineum and anus. I tensed. I felt her breath on my cock as both her hands continued to stroke me. "You are clear on the outcome?" "Yes nurse," I said with some strain. "Good," she said and took me fully in her mouth. To my surprise, I delighted in the feeling of her finger pushing into me even as she slid her mouth down my length. I thrust my hips up as she pushed into me, and she coughed at the sudden movement and pulled back. The finger inside me was motionless for a bit, and then she starting moving it, though in a way I couldn't place. A deep pressure started to build. As she continued to 'examine' what had to be my prostate, she said, "Really Mr. Jeffries, thrusting is not appropriate." As she said this she stroked my cock using her saliva as a very nice lubricant. I could now tell she was rubbing every part of my prostate, being quite thorough. The pressure increased. "Will you be able to control yourself?" "Yes Nurse, I believe so." She nodded and gave me a most unprofessional leer. "I doubt it," she said, "but try anyway." And then she took me fully in her mouth again, her tongue doing wonderful things up and down the length of my cock. The finger in my ass was now moving more in and out than back and forth, and when she added a second finger I gripped the sides of the table and forced my hips to remain in place. She hummed around my cock and stroked me with her fingers. It was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. Her tongue worked my frenulum and head while her fingers stroked my shaft, and the effect of her fingers on my prostate was to make my cock feel a few inches longer. She regularly looked up at me, and the vision of her intense eyes with me in her mouth added another sexual dimension. As she bobbed and stroked me slowly it became clear that she was in no hurry. Monitoring my reactions, she paused her efforts every now and then back away from the edge. It felt strange and delicious, and after what seemed like ages but was probably only ten minutes, I had the feeling I was, well, dribbling into her mouth. She noticed as well and she took her mouth off me. "I've got you flowing nicely now, and I want a nice full sample from you." I looked down and noticed precum oozing out continuously. As she kept fingering me she massaged my balls with the rest of her hand. Then she resumed sucking and tonguing my head and crown as she stroked me, but this time felt different. As I started to tense up she didn't stop. "Nurse, I'm getting close!" I said with some urgency. She hummed an acknowledgment, looked me in the eye again. I had the silicone bulb thingy and I was damn close to needing it. Then, with an aggressive tongue lashing of my frenulum, I was there. "I'm going to come!" She continued to stroke my shaft as she backed away and I popped the cup over the head of my cock. It was a snug fit and I didn't have to hold it, which was good because just a moment later my body seized up and I found myself at the edge for an intense period. At no time did she stop stroking my cock and my ass, and then Boom! I exploded. The prostate massage and her continued stroking sent me into another world. My hips took off on their own as I pumped shot after shot into the bulb. When I finally started breathing again she pulled off the cup and took me in her mouth and gently licked and sucked me as I softened. When she stopped I realized her finger was no longer inside me. I heard the snap of her removing her glove, and then she undid the Velcro. "You may clean up and get dressed Mr. Jeffries, I should have your results soon," she said. I noticed she was quite flushed, possibly more than myself. "Yes Nurse," I said absently as I got off the bench in a post orgasmic daze. In the restroom I cleaned up, got dressed and knocked on the door some minutes later. "Enter," came her voice. I did so and she motioned for me to sit on the bench again. "Well, Mr.Jeffries, as might be expected for a young man of twenty-four years, you are in very good health. Blood work and vitals normal, all disease checks negative, your testes and prostate are normal, and you have a reasonably high sperm count." She paused then, kissed me and said, "Next time I'll get to swallow all the little swimmers." She showed me her 'sex badge', and I noted the two at the top were CIM (come in mouth) and FOX (essentially blow job). I returned her grin and said, "I look forward to it." She led me to the door and I headed back to my office. As I passed Allie at reception she smiled prettily. "How is your first day going?" She asked. "Somehow even better than I expected," I said. My stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. The clock said it was already 1230. "Would you like some lunch?" She asked. "That would be great," I said. She picked up the phone, punched a number and spoke briefly. A minute later Susan from security arrived and took Allie's place. "Be back in fifteen," Allie said. Susan smirked, "Take all the time you want." "Just lunch, Susan, not my turn," Allie replied. Allie led me to the cafeteria, where about ten people were still eating. I ordered a turkey club and joined Ashley at an empty table. As we ate we made small talk, mostly about how we had come to work at Foxx Inc. Allie was finishing an internship, looking to start law school in the Fall. She was quite interested in my Navy experience, and while I tried to answer her, I found it was always difficult to convey what life on a submarine was like. "So what about my predecessor?" I asked. "What about him?" she said. "Do you know why he left?" I asked. She shrugged, "I think the job wore him out. He was here for a few years I think, left Monday last week." "Wore him out, as in " I said, the question hanging there. She swallowed a bite of food and then said, "I'm sure that at some point having all the sex you can handle must become too much." She shrugged, "Or maybe he wanted a girlfriend. It would take someone really open minded to let their boyfriend loose in here every day." Too tired? I thought about that. I'd had two great orgasms today, and I felt energized. Would I feel that way by Friday? One thing was for sure I was looking forward to finding out. I finished my sandwich and noticed a woman a couple of tables away was watching me. Allie noticed my glance and looked over her shoulder. The other woman waved at us, then stood and left the room. "Who was that?" I asked. "That's Cindy from IT, your last appointment for the day. She'll be by around five after for your two pm meeting." "Oh?" I said. "Why five minutes late?" "Velma's never on time." "Velma? I thought you said Cindy?" I said, confused. "It'll be clear enough. She's not one to waste time, so I recommend having a password ready for your smart card. It's kind of like the CAC you used to have. Eight characters, upper and lower case, numerals and special character." "Sure," I said, confused, and wondering why she referenced a CAC at all. Back in my office I took a very quick shower before going over more maintenance history and familiarizing myself with the existing contracts. After going through about half the documents my impression was that things were running well in the building, but I'd follow up with Ms Olson later to get her thoughts. I also googled Velma, though I didn't remember the other name. It didn't take long to figure out what might be going on, so I was ready when shortly after 1400 my door opened and a woman walked in. She had short cropped dark brown hair, dark rimmed glasses, an orange sweater, a red skirt and orange stockings. A pair of large breasts wobbled underneath her sweater making it clear she was without a bra. "Hi," she said with a smile, "I'm Velma from IT to set up your account." At first I didn't recognize her, but something about her face was familiar. It suddenly dawned on me that this was the same woman from lunch. Her name tag read Cindy something, but whatever Velma wanted, I was ready to give it to her. I shook my head in an exaggerated manner and barked out, "Zoinks!" She laughed and smiled broadly. "You're so goofy, Shaggy." She gestured to my computer, "May I?" she said. I backed away from the desk and offered her the seat. "Of course." She smiled at me and said, "Thanks, Shaggy." Her hands flew over the keyboard, screens changing rapidly as she did so. After a moment she took my badge, removed it from the protective sleeve, and slotted into the side of the computer. She backed away and gestured toward the computer. "Once you enter a password it will take about fifteen minutes to generate keys," she said. I typed in a password and was asked to verify it twice. Once done she stood, went to the door, and locked it from within. Then she turned to face me and pulled her sweater over her head. She was a thicc young woman, with a truly large pair of nicely shaped tits. Silver dollar areola and tight pink nipples atop easily DDD milky white breasts. I closed the distance and took those mammaries in my hands, squeezing, fondling and sucking like a starving man. She murmured her approval and enjoyed my ministrations for a short while. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and gently pressed me to sit down on the floor. She sat down astride my thighs, her hands undoing my belt and pulling down my pants and underwear. She readily got me hard in her mouth before moving down and dangling her tits on either side of my cock. Not needing any guidance at this point, I took her tits in my hands and kneaded them as I held them around my cock. Fucking those beauties was a dream. Nothing quite like handfuls of breast wrapped around my dick to really get me going. Velma was holding herself up with her hands, watching me enjoy the use of her ample cleavage as her tits dangled over me. Even better, every four or five strokes she took me in her mouth to lube me up again. "Enjoying yourself?" She asked after a few minutes. I groaned with another thrust between the mounds filling my hands, "Very much so, Velma." "Cool, Shaggy," she said. "Okay if I ride you now?" "Be my guest," I said. She crawled forward a bit, then moved up her feet and shifted into a squat. Taking a hold of me she sat down on my cock as I sucked a nipple into my mouth. She was very wet, but extremely tight. She took her time, at least thirty seconds, to fully seat herself on my hips. Then, she leaned down to kiss me as she started to ride me ever so slowly. Velma used only her quads as she raised and lowered herself, and it seemed the tension in those muscles was also reflected in her kegels. Somehow she squeezed me on both the upstroke and the downstroke. It was a slow build for me, and who knows how she kept up those squats, but as she continued I found myself soon approaching a conclusion. "Velma, I'm getting close," I said. Dropping her weight on my hips she rolled us over into a missionary position, save for the fact I still had my pants on. I pulled out of her reluctantly and shucked off my pants and underwear. Velma spread her legs wide in invitation and started to rub her clit. Kneeling between her thighs I pressed into her again and then held her legs open by leaning on her thighs. She moaned as I started to fuck her in earnest. "Oh, yeah," she purred, "pound me Shaggy! Come in me!" Needing no other encouragement or direction, I did just that. Stroke after stroke I buried myself in her cunt, the delicious feeling building once again. Suddenly, her breath caught and her eyes closed tightly and she declared she was coming. She clamped down on me, threatening to keep me from finishing, but I would not be deterred from driving us both over the edge. I slid my hands to her shoulders and pulled her down as I thrust up into her tightness again. I could sense her coming off her peak and then I was there myself, swelling and then bursting inside her. She opened her eyes as I finished pumping her full of my third load of the day. "Thanks Shaggy, that was cool." I nodded, then withdrew to get dressed, yet again. She took her seat in front of the computer, chest still wonderfully bare. "Just in time Mr J. Your card is ready now." She stood and picked up her sweater which she pulled over her big tits with practiced ease. "The start page should help you well enough, but if you need anything, just call." she said. I remembered there was one thing I needed: how to expense the uniforms. Velma talked me through that and then it was time for her to go. I'd hardly said a thing during her visit, but it didn't seem to bother her. For the next couple of hours I made sure to rehydrate while I was using my new network access to evaluate the services currently under contract. All seemed to be in order, but there was something nagging at me. I spent some time trying to figure it out, but to no avail. It was half past four and about time for me to call it a day when there was a knock at my door and the always lovely Ms Olson came in and sat across from me. "And how was your first day, Joe?" She asked. Leaning back in my chair I said, "I think you know it's a bit of a living wet dream." She smirked and I continued, "But I do have a few questions." "I'll answer if I can," she said, "what's on your mind?" "First off, I thought I was providing the fantasy material," I said. She raised an eyebrow and held it there for a moment. "Surely having Velma from IT stop by wasn't too much of a burden?" I was briefly at a loss, "How " She held up a hand to stop me. "Many people like role playing, and from many sides. If it doesn't bother you then just enjoy it. And Velma's her thing. Always has been. I presume Shaggy was able to answer to his name?" I hadn't realized the joke of Shaggy shagging Velma, and I laughed out loud.. "Okay, and the nurse is, just that way?" Ms Olson regarded me quizzically, "What do you mean?" I realized I was about to say something unkind, and I stopped myself. "Nothing. My exam was pretty intense, that's all." The look I received was unexpected. "Was anything wrong?" She asked. "Um, well, no. I can't say that." "But the, ah, sperm sample collection surprised you?" She was instantly pleased by my surprise. My eyes narrowed, "Just how much of what goes on behind closed doors do you know about?" "Only what people tell me Mr Jeffries, only what they tell me." "And what was it our nurse said after our session?" Ms Olson smiled her brilliant predatory smile. "She all but demanded to be on your schedule the next time she is in the building. When I asked why she said the sample process precluded her from feeling your cock pumping down her throat." I was agog again, and she leaned forward, "Her exact words, I'm quite certain. I gather the prostate massage was unexpected? But enjoyable." I nodded dumbly. "I, um, yes of course it was. But why sperm samples?" She crossed her legs and held one knee in her hands. "Really Mr. Jeffries, when you ask me questions like that I have to wonder if you somehow faked being a nuclear trained operator." I sighed, "Because someone may want my sperm." "You see," she said with a smirk, "I knew you were quick." For the umpteenth time today I was momentarily speechless. "But with full medical, why not IVF or artificial insemination?" She nodded, "Those are options we support as well, but historically if the woman is fertile the old fashioned way is much more effective. And fun, of course." "I see." "No, I doubt that you do, but that's a discussion for another time." I had the distinct sense we were done for now. I walked around the table and lifted her to her feet. Taking her head in my hands I kissed her thoroughly before giving her a very unfriendly hug, pressing her taut nipples into my chest. "I'll never be able to thank you enough." She patted my cheek and stepped back. "I'd seriously like to fuck you right now, but I said three per day to start. I doubt you've had sex three times a day five days in a row at any time in your life. I don't want to overtax you starting on day one." "Well, actually, if you ask Tilly about this one time," I started, and she held up a hand to stop me. "It's mean to tell me I am not giving you a proper challenge," she turned, locked the door and immediately started undressing. "It will not do for me to think we are not getting you off enough." Subconsciously I had followed her lead and was quickly getting undressed to match her. "I didn't mean it that way," I said. Nude, she knelt on my couch and bent over. She looked over shoulder at me, "Now get over here and service me. I want your hands on my hips and your cock drilling me, right now." By the time she finished that statement I was sliding into her. I put my hands on her hips as requested, and started fucking her. "Mr. Jeffries, I have a dinner meeting in 30 minutes and I would appreciate a pair of quick orgasms so I have time to straighten up." I started grunting with effort and her moans and pants became more frantic. I was getting close to the finish myself. I turned her face toward me and checked that she was wearing blue lipstick. "Are you ready for me to give you your pre-dinner snack Ms. Olson?" Her mouth opened to say something, but then my fingers on her clit launched her climax and she couldn't seem to find the words. After a long period of gasping, she pulled free of my cock and turned to sit on the couch. At once she deep throated me. I reached down and twisted her nipples as she sucked on me. She moaned, and the sound put me over the edge. Even after coming three times earlier in the day, my body was not letting me down. I felt like I pumped a mouthful down to her belly, and I wondered if that would continue. This time she didn't seem to be in a hurry at all, and she continued to use her tongue to play with my cock until I was soft. "Thank you for the snack Mr. Jeffries. Good job getting hydrated. Organic man milk does a body good." She started to get dressed and I did the same. "I am going to sleep very well tonight Ms. Olson," I said. She finished dressing and patted me on the cheek. "I know you will," she said with a smile before she turned and left my office. I got dressed and sat down at my desk, the day's servicing work apparently concluded. I put my hands behind my head and leaned back, unable to keep a smile from forming on my face. I made a few mental notes of things I needed to work on. The tri-graphs. There were a lot of them, and if I was to service someone without speaking first, I wouldn't want to get any of them wrong. And two things tugged at the edges of my awareness: was there more to the story of my predecessor, and was there some reason to pay more attention to the intern? I honestly had no idea why Allie had popped into my mind, but it was oddly similar to the feeling you get when something isn't right in the propulsion plant. You get used to everything being a certain way, and when something is off, you know at once even though it is going to take a bit to figure out what has grabbed your attention. I replayed the brief encounters with Allie and couldn't put a finger on why I was, what? Curious? Skeptical? Suspicious? Shaking my head I picked up the PBS booklet, grabbed my keys and wallet and left for the day. To be continued By PtmcPilot for Literotica

Have you seen God advancing you in your calling? Are you dealing with spiritual warfare and in need of encouragement? In their heartfelt conversation, Guest host Sara Davenport and returning guest Valerie Rocha discuss her "Still Kneeling on The Throne" God Story about how the Lord is advancing her anointing in intercessory prayer through the completion of more written works. Valerie is an author, prayer intercessor, and has been walking with Jesus since the age of 13, and has a wealth of guidance and wisdom to offer all who connect with her. Valerie shares about her latest prayer devotional and Bible study guide that helps those looking to build a conversation with our loving Savior. Enjoy listening to Valerie's inspiring story and wisdom.  Special thanks to Kadosh Media for sponsoring this episode.

Tous les matins, à 6h10 et 6h50 sur Chérie FM, Tiffany Bonvoisin nous présente une info qui l''a marquée !

Did you know that using a birth ball is one of the easiest ways to help relieve common pregnancy pains? In today's episode of the To Birth and Beyond podcast, Anita is going to provide practical tips for incorporating a pregnancy ball into your daily routine to alleviate common pregnancy pains and improve pelvic mobility. The episode emphasizes the importance of starting early and using the birth ball as a supportive tool throughout pregnancy and postpartum recovery. You will be so surprised when you can mitigate back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain and so much more with a birth ball! - - - - - - - - -If you liked this episode of To Birth and Beyond, tell your friends! Find us on iTunes and Spotify to rate/review/subscribe to the show.Want more? Visit www.ToBirthAndBeyond.com, join our Facebook group (To Birth and Beyond Podcast), and follow us on Instagram @tobirthandbeyondpodcast! Thanks for listening and joining the conversation!Resources and References Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita LambertFREE Prenatal Birth Ball Training Guidehttps://www.instagram.com/holistichealthphysioShow Notes 0:55 - Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita Lambert2:41 - Anita shares what today's episode is all about3:44 - Anita lists the different pregnancy pains that a birth ball can help relieve4:47 - Anita explains why the term “birth ball” is a tad incorrect6:15 - Anita explains how to choose the correct size of birth ball for your needs7:52 - Anita runs through some irth ball positions and exercises for each7:56 - Birth ball position #1: Sitting on the ball10:15 - Birth ball position #2: Kneeling on floor and leaning upper body on the ball12:30 - Birth ball position #3: Child's pose, ball close, lean forward and place hands, head, and neck on the ball15:39 - Birth ball position #4: Lunge17:35 - Anita describes how long to do each of the exercises outlined in this episode19:04 - It's never too early to start using a birth ball!19:51 - Anita shares about her bonus Birth Ball Training inside of Bump to Birth!20:11 - Anita brings the episode to a close!

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

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

John Koelliker is a young dad doing his best to care for his family while leading a growing startup as its founder and CEO. Much of the way he lives today comes from watching another dad—his own father, David Koelliker—who passed away in 2019 after battling a brain tumor for nearly a decade. 2:05- Consecration and Cancer 5:45- Confidence as a Missionary 7:41- Achievable Ends 11:30- The Act of Kneeling 13:16- An Entrepreneurial Itch 15:28- And Culture 17:30- A Champion of the Underdog 19:53- Failure and Faith 21:43- The People That Give Us Wings 25:30- Sports and Work 28:28- Leadership 31:12- What Does It Mean to Be All In the Gospel of Jesus Christ? "I think the 'Be ye therefore perfect' has always felt like such an insurmountable challenge for all of us and I think it taught me that perfection in action certainly is but perfection in intent or in your heart is something that feels a little bit more attainable." Links: "Everyone Needs a Brain Tumor" by David Koelliker- https://www.amazon.com/Everybody-Needs-Brain-Tumor-Koelliker/dp/0692993118 Leland- https://www.joinleland.com/ Kore Baseball- https://a.co/d/g3nmL7d Forbes 30 Under 30- https://www.forbes.com/30-under-30/2023/education?profile=leland

Matthew 6:5-8 Most of us were never taught how to communicate, whether with a spouse, a parent, or even with God, and have spent our lives learning by trial and error. Before the disciples asked Jesus, “Teach us to pray,” there was no clear instruction on how to speak with God: Should we pray aloud or silently? Eyes open or closed? Kneeling or standing? The questions are endless. Yet prayer was never meant to be a ritual to perfect, but a relationship to deepen. In this message, we’ll explore what God says about prayer, look at practical ways to apply it, and then put it into practice together, discovering that true prayer is not performance but personal dialogue with a God who listens and rewards the sincere heart.

Pastor Scott continues the series on the Ancient Worship from the Psalms.

Summary: This message urges believers to embrace God's power in every circumstance, live in united humility that testifies to heaven and earth, and pray boldly with expectancy for God to do exceedingly more.Series: Ephesians - Unstoppable: The Life you Were Made To LiveTitle: Part 5 - From Revelation to AdorationDate: 10/15/25, 6:30pm, Wednesday Bible StudySpeaker: Pastor Jeff BoothApproximate Outline:00:00 - Opening & Ephesians 3:2003:50 - Power at work within us07:20 - Paul's imprisonment perspective11:10 - Gentiles: the mystery revealed14:50 - Praise in the struggle18:10 - Manifold wisdom through the church22:00 - Bold access to the Father25:30 - Kneeling, humility & prayer29:30 - Interceding for the persecuted church33:40 - Love beyond measure & doxology

Send us a textThe story opens with motion: travelers from the east scan the sky, see a sign, and choose to move toward a promise. That simple act—to ask, to seek, to kneel—runs headlong into a ruler who confuses fear with leadership and control with safety. We sit with Matthew 2 as it unfolds like a map of trust, tracing the Magi's courage, Herod's deceit, Joseph's midnight obedience, and the God who quietly steers each step through dreams and fulfilled prophecy.We talk about why the Magi's gifts still speak—gold for a real but hidden kingship, frankincense for a priest who brings us near, myrrh for a path that descends into suffering before rising to life. We reflect on worship not as a performance but a posture, the kind that drops to its knees and offers what it holds. Alongside that reverence, we face the ache in Bethlehem, where Rachel's tears remind us that redemption does not skip the valley. Yet even in grief, there's a thread of providence—Egypt as refuge, Nazareth as home, prophecy as the quiet architecture beneath the journey.This conversation leans into discernment in a world where flattery can hide a dagger. We explore how to test smooth words, stay alert to the Spirit's prompting, and move with courage when God says “rise.” If you've ever wondered how divine promises survive human schemes, or how ordinary choices can carry eternal weight, you'll find resonance here. Listen, reflect, and consider where you might be called to kneel, to wait, or to take the next faithful step.If this story stirred something in you, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a review so others can find it. Your thoughts and questions help shape where we go next—what stood out most to you today?The Bible isn't just an old book—it's God's story, and it's still alive today. His Story takes you chapter by chapter through Scripture, combining simple readings of God's Word with prayer for every listener and occasional reflections on what the passage means for our lives right now. Whether you're brand new to the Bible or have been reading it for years, this podcast is a space to slow down, hear God's Word spoken, and be reminded that His story is also our story.

Greg Belfrage talks to listeners about Bad Bunny being picked for the Superbowl. He also mentions why he doesn't watch football anymore because of the kneeling during the national anthem. Greg also talks about why Bad Bunny was chosen. The reason why he shouldn't have been chosen. A caller mentioned that Metalica would have been a good choice. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We hope you enjoy this shiur. If you would like to sponsor or dedicate any of our shiurim or help with the running costs please do not hesitate to get in contact with us at office@rabbiroodyn.com or WhatsApp +447791221449May Hashem heal the wounded, free the captives and lead our soldiers to a swift and painless victory.#jew #jewish #torah #torahfortoughtimes #rabbiroodyn #bringthemhome #rabbi #torahanytime #Judaism #Israel #shiur #responsetotragictimes #jewishunderstanding #elul #elulvation

Back in the BLM days a group of FBI agents took a knee to show support with the rioters, Howie asks should they be fired for that?  Visit the Howie Carr Radio Network website to access columns, podcasts, and other exclusive content.

Kneeling before Jesus is more important than we imagine. On our knees before Jesus, we can be freed from Satan's bondage; on our knees before Jesus, our requests can be answered. On our knees before Jesus, we can recognize His power in our lives.

Luke's HAARP Time Warp: Part 3 Marion readies her attack. Based on a post by somethin fishy, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Chapter 11. The next morning the three of them all woke at about the same time. Luke was amazed that he had slept in and Cecilia was amazed that she had woken up early and was so rested. Watching Marion trying to walk, Cecilia fell off the bed she was laughing so hard. To rub salt into Marion's wounds, Luke was chuckling a bit as well and all Marion could do was blush. She was too sore, at the moment, to do anything else. They all took turns with the chamber pot and after Marion and Luke had washed each other up a bit; got dressed and went to get something to eat. In the dining area Luke was greeted like a mighty warrior; while Marion was getting jealous looks from every woman in the room. Everyone had heard them and every woman wanted to be her or have a man like she did. This actually cheered Marion up quite well. She actually was enjoying the looks that she was getting; after all it just proved that she had something that none of them could even dream of. The innkeeper meanwhile had given the lovebirds free food. This annoyed Luke but he yielded after the innkeeper explained that she was not only very happy for them, but their love making had lured extra people in for supper the night before. It had actually been standing room only and the only fighting had been when someone else made too much noise. She had made more money off Luke and Marion's love making then she had made in the previous month. Marion's reaction to this got laughs from everyone in the room because she flushed the deepest red that anyone had ever seen. Cecilia had also noticed that she had been getting some jealous looks; but hers were equally from men and women. It didn't take her long to figure out that they were jealous of her front row, well bed seat, to last night's entertainment. Of course, it didn't hurt that all three of them smelled like hot sex. Eventually they got done eating breakfast and returned to their room to pack up. Within an hour they were on the road to York. The three of them traveled quickly for Cecilia had given up on killing Marion on the road. Now she figured that she would use Marion to keep Luke around. Of course, that didn't mean that Marion could be free; oh no. The first thing that Cecilia planed on doing when she got home was to trump up some charges against Marion to have her thrown in the dungeon. With Marion still alive, Cecilia could use her to force Luke's cooperation. While traveling, Luke had noticed the change in Cecilia's behavior. At first, he had hoped that she might be starting to change, but a couple of comments, that she made, put this theory to rest; after all how often do leopards change their spots. Marion though, was overjoyed at her sister's change in demeanor for she had always wanted a loving sister growing up and now, apparently, she had one. As they rode Cecilia and Marion talked and joked as if they were the best of friends. Luke started to just ignore them and instead focused on keeping a look out for traps. The rest of their trip back to Cecilia and Marion's land was uneventful. Cecilia's charm though, wasn't fooling Luke and he began to mentally prepare himself to do whatever he had to do, including abandoning Marion, in order to keep his knowledge from getting into the wrong hands. As they passed back into their family lands, the ladies immediately noticed a change. A blind person could have seen it. Houses were burnt and the people that lived in the area were starting to show signs of starvation. It was so bad that even Luke felt sickened by the sights. Cecilia and Marion were pale as ghost as they threw up everything in their stomachs. Eventually, Marion found one of the people that she trusted. It was an older woman, Lucy, who had lost her husband years before. Lucy had been Marion's nanny, back when Marion was younger and they had retained a close friendship. When Marion first saw Lucy, Marion actually had to look very hard to make sure for Lucy had changed so much since Marion had last seen her, and that was just a week before Marion had left for London. “Lucy what happened?” “It was Richard. As soon as the three of you left for London, he moved in and took over. The guards that remained loyal are rumored to be in Richard's dungeon; that is if they have not been killed by torture yet. Where is your father anyway?” Lucy was so depressed and dirty that it broke Marion's heart, for she loved this woman. Lucy was the mother that Marion had never known. “Father was killed in an ambush. John, Cecilia's fiancé was killed too. The ambush was led by none other than William.” Lucy hissed at hearing this. “I am so sorry, Marion. Now the big question, who is the giant behind you?” “Oh sorry. Lucy this is Luke. Luke this is Lucy. She took care of me when I was younger. Lucy, Luke is the stranger that rescued Cecilia and me from the ambush. He killed William with his bare hands and he has been keeping us safe ever since. Also, we have fallen in love.” “Oh really.” “What, I am not allowed to fall in love?” Lucy smiled at this. Marion had always had a bit of fire in her soul. “Back to serious issues Marion, you three need to get out of here before you are discovered. Word has it that Richard has put a bounty on your and Cecilia's heads.” “Not to fear Lucy, the only head that is going to be collected will be Richard's” growled Luke. Lucy now felt a spike of fear go through her. She had never heard a human sound like this. This Luke sounded much more like a wild animal. More to her surprise, the look on Marion's face had hardened as well. Obviously these two knew something that Lucy didn't. “Lucy, I need all the information and rumors that you have on this Richard bastard.” Said Luke. Over the next hour the woman told Luke everything that she knew about Richard. Richard was an older Earl that lived next to their land and had been eyeing Marion's family land for years. Richard was one of those who get everything that he wanted, mostly because he was very quick to resort to very dirty and underhand tactics to get them. In the thirty years since Richard had gained his Earldom, he had tripled his land holdings. In the process, he had killed off whole villages and had put such a tax burden on the peasants living on his land that many of them were in a constant state of half starvation. This is what he had started doing in Cecilia and Marion's lands, but here he taxed the peasants at such a high rate that many of them would be dead by the end of the year. If a peasant couldn't pay the tax then one of several things might happen to them: they might be tortured, killed, if there were good looking women in the family then they would be taken to serve Richard or his men, young boys would be taken to be turned into soldiers. To put it simply, Richard viewed everyone below him as an expendable plaything and everyone including the king was below him, in his mind. By now, Cecilia had realized that she would have to put a hold on getting revenge on Marion. There was no way that Cecilia would live long enough to make up the charges against Marion, never mind pump Luke for information. Luke listened carefully to everything that the women told him and asked pointed questions if he thought that they might have missed something. Finally, Luke asked Lucy: “Where can I find Richard?” “Why he now lives in the castle” said Lucy while she pointed at the castle that had once been Marion and Cecilia's home. Luke gave Lucy some money and one of their extra horses and told her to get lost and if he failed to get rid of Richard, never come back. Luke had figured out, listening to all the stories that the only way to get rid of Richard was to kill him. So that's what Luke set out to do. He had Marion show him a spot from which Luke could watch the castle and remain hidden. He then told Cecilia and Marion to get back to Lincoln and stay there until Luke sent for them. Cecilia was good with this, Marion wasn't. Eventually it was agreed that Cecilia would travel to Lincoln with Lucy and Marion would help Luke. The ladies hugged each other when Cecilia set off with Lucy. Luke and Marion had given almost all their money to Cecilia and Lucy. Luke had told Lucy that she should find some business to invest in. That way she could keep making money and would have a secure future. Luke now had to face the problem that he didn't know what Richard looked like. Yes, he could shoot Richard from a long way off, but he had to know what Richard looked like first. Marion couldn't take Luke to show him Richard, because too many people in the castle knew Marion. Then he hit on a solution. Luke would go into the castle, claiming to be a Scottish mercenary looking for a new job. “How are you going to do that?” asked Marion “You're not Scottish.” “Something I haven't mentioned to you, my family name is MacDougall, and I've spent enough time in Scotland to fake the accent good enough. Just have to hope that Richard doesn't have any other MacDougall's around.” “Damn it Luke, how many more secrets do you have?” “If you're afraid of the answer then you probably shouldn't ask the question my dear. On the plus side, you already know my biggest one. The rest aren't too bad.” Marion just gave him the stink eye. “I should only be gone for a couple of days. If I'm not back by sunset four days from now, get out of here as fast as you can and never look back.” Marion was starting to argue, but Luke wasn't having any of it. “Damn it Marion, think with your head and not your pussy. We can't launch an attack without knowing what all Richard has going on inside and you are too well known to go in. That leaves me, plus I have a military background so I know what to look for.” Again, Marion was gearing up for a fight, when she suddenly drew in her breath. She had realized that once again Luke was right and that if she tried to go in, she would be caught before the sun had gone done. “Okay, Luke. Get going, just be careful and remember that I love you.” “I love you too, Marion. Remember if I'm no back by sunset four days from now get out of here, and take all my gear with you.” With that, Luke mounted his horse and started riding toward the family of York's castle. Chapter 12. Getting inside the castle was a pain for Luke, for he was searched multiple times. Finally, he managed to get through the guards. Once inside, Luke was amazed at how destitute the place was. Everywhere it seemed there were people hanging at the end of ropes or in stocks. The air was thick with flies, but the remaining people didn't seem to even notice. He saw some desperate people actually walk up behind someone in stocks and carve a big piece of flesh from them. A number of the people hanging appeared to be merchants and craftsmen which amazed Luke; after all what kind of idiot ruler would go after the very people who earned the money to pay the taxes. Of course, three answers came to Luke's mind. Evil despot rulers, socialist, and communist and usually the evil despot rulers were brightest of the three. Their end goal was always the same just dressed up in different ways; power for themselves and their supporters. Luke didn't even have to look for an inn because there were so many abandoned homes to pick from but first Luke had to get a meeting with this Richard idiot. This actually proved to be very easy. Luke just walked right up to the main castle doors and told the guard that he was a mercenary looking for a job. Luke looked the part too with two swords, an impressive collection of knives, and a large shield that he had bought while in Lincoln. When Luke finally met the Earl Richard for the first time Luke almost fell to the floor laughing. This guy had some serious man issues. For starters he was hideously ugly. Marion of course had told his this, but Luke had never pictured something this ugly. Another thing was Richard was extremely short, even for the era. Luke estimated him to be no more than four foot nine or ten. Finally, the guy had some kind of speech problem which for normal people wasn't a problem, but for people who thought of themselves masters of the world, this was a major problem. “So, I hear that you want a job as one of my soldiers?” “Yes sir, that is correct.” Stated Luke with his slight Scottish accent. He could have laid it on thicker but figured that keeping things light would help convince Richard that Luke was really a very experienced soldier. “Why?” “Why not. I need a job and I heard that you sir are hiring.” “Well, let us see what you can do.” “David, Matt, John. Test this man's metal.” Richard set back to enjoy the entertainment. He was going to enjoy watching his best man whittle this giant down to size. The three of them approached Luke spaced out evenly around him. Luke waited until the last possible second, then stuck. Using the same method that he had used on William; Luke sidestepped David's strike, grabbed his right wrist with one hand and broke is elbow with his other. Luke then moved and snapped David's neck. This pissed the other two men off for all three were very close. With new fury they moved on Luke who was still calm as ever. This time he drew his swords. These were hand and a half swords, but in Luke's hands they became single handed swords. With longer swords and much more strength, Luke quickly forced the other two knights back. Finally, Matt managed to get past Luke's swords and deliver a blow to Luke. This blow was normally a fatal blow, but Luke just shrugged it off. Before Matt could get out of the way, Luke hit him between his eyes with the pommel of one of his swords. Matt's skull shattered with the blow causing everyone around to cringe. Now it was one to one and John was not only in a rage, but was also fearful. He had seen both his best friends killed before his eyes and this giant had received a usually fatal blow from Matt. Yet it barely seemed to affect him. Luke now went on an all-out attack on John. It was all John could do to keep Luke's blades off of him. If John didn't do something fast, he would be killed too. Finally, John had an opening and he took it. Problem was that Luke had purposely let his have that opening and taking it proved to be a fatal mistake for John. As John delivered what he hoped would be at least a debilitating blow on Luke, Luke trapped John's sword and pulled John to him. Close in, Luke dropped his swords, picked up John, turned him over, and drove him head first into the floor. This completely crushed John's head. It was so bad that you couldn't even tell that it had been a head. Luke the casually picked his swords up and sheathed them. He then started to return to in front of Richard who was sitting in his chair with is mouth open. He had never seen someone win a three to one fight so fast. As Luke got back to where he had started, he heard the unmistakable sound of a bow being drawn. As quick as lighting, Luke drew a throwing knife and let it fly. It stuck the bowman in the throat, killing him instantly. Luke walked over, kicked his knife loose of the man's neck, wiped it off on the man's uniform, and returned the knife to its place. By now the look of fear was in every face of the room, including Richard's. It was obvious to all that this man was not one to be messed around with. Upon returning Luke asked: “Well, happy now?” “Yes, you are a remarkable soldier, how did you survive Matt's strike; sorcery?” Luke snorted at this. “Sorcery please? Do not insult me in such a way ever again. I survived because I designed my own armor which is hidden in my clothes. Only complete losers blame their loss on sorcery. Real men take responsibility for their victories as well as their defeats.” “So, they do, friend. So, they do. Now to business, what would you be charging for your services?” “Eighty pounds sterling a year.” He had talked with Marion and she had told him that while this was a bit expensive Richard would gladly pay it to have a soldier of Luke's caliber. “Sixty pounds a year plus I will provide you with girls to use whenever you please.” “Seventy, plus some girls of my choosing.” “You drive a hard bargain, Hildyard. I accept and my I say that name suits you very well.” “Thank you my lord.” Luke had picked this alias for that very reason. It meant one who is like a wolf in battle. “Take my new knight to pick his girls.” Richard said to a servant. The servant wouldn't even dare look at Richard for Richard would kill anyone who he thought gave him a disrespectful look. Luke followed the servant into another set of rooms. There were many good-looking females there, some being quite young and some being decent looking Milfs. “Thank you, my good man. What is your name?” asked Luke looking at the servant. “Michael, sir” Kneeling down in front of the servant Luke said quietly to him: “Never call me sir again, you hear me. My name is Hildyard. Got it?” “Yes sir, Hildyard” said Michael with a slight grin. “Good.” Luke had a warm smile on his face “When you tell your friends about me as I am sure that you will, make sure that you pass the word on to them.” “Yes Hildyard.” With that, the servant scampered away almost causing Luke to laugh. Turning back to the women, Luke had to work to hide just how disgusted he really felt. These women were being forced into sex slaves because their family couldn't pay the sky-high taxes that Richard insisted on levying on them. Luke quietly looked at each one. Finally, he thought that he might have a way that he could do this. Going to one of the servants by the door: “This is going to be a hard choice for me to make. Can you show me to my chamber and then have the women report to it one at a time please?” “Yes sir. This way sir.” the servant snapped. Luke sighed to himself, this servant hadn't heard his bit to Michael. ‘Oh well' thought Luke. Once Luke had been shown his chamber, the women were sent in one at a time like he had requested. Luke had to be very careful here for one false move on his part and Richard would figure out that Luke was lying through his teeth and then it was only a matter of time. As Luke carefully questioned each of the women, he had to work at sounding like an arrogant mercenary soldier when in fact all he wanted to do was to get the woman out of there and back to their homes. Luke finally picked some young ladies who were all a bit younger than Marion and an older one that had worked in the castle while Marion had lived there. The reason that Luke had picked the younger woman was to help protect them for they were brand new to the harem and were still virgins. He had absolutely no intention of forcing himself on any of them. Of course, this first night he would be able to use being very tired as an excuse but the following nights could be difficult. Finally, it was time for bed. Luke had managed to procure a separate room for “his” woman so that no one else would have a chance to force themselves on them. Luke took the oldest one into his room for the night. Of course, he had already checked out the room twice and had found no hidden listening holes. Still, he had to be careful. The older lady was named Stella and Luke put her age about thirty or so. “So, Stella what can you tell me about yourself. I find sex to be more enjoyable when I know something about the bitch.” “Well, I am twenty-nine years old, I think. Married once but he died from an accident. I had one child with him but she died before she made it to one year old. I have been working in this castle all my life and I know exactly how to please men.” “What can you tell me about the previous owners? I have heard whispers about them but none of it makes any sense.” “Why do you want to know about the previous owners?” “Because I am curious, so humor me please.” “The owner was named Charles. He was a good man who lost his wife so after his youngest daughter, Marion, was born. After this he never remarried but used the ladies of the castle to keep him company. It was actually very good for us because he was kind and gentle with us.” “You mentioned a daughter?” “He actually had two, Cecilia and Marion. Cecilia was a two-faced wild child, but Marion was kind, loving, and very intelligent.” “Was?” “Yes, word has it that they were killed on their way back from London which is just as well. For if they had gotten back here, Richard would have had Charles tortured and imprisoned and his daughters would have become Richard's concubines.” “I see. I can see where death would be preferable. Come here Stella.” Stella came up to Luke, expecting to be ravaged, but to her surprise Luke invited her to lay with him while she still had her clothes on. “Master what is wrong? Do I not please your eyes?” “Never call me master. My name is Hildyard and that is what I expected to be called. Understand?” “Yes” squeaked Stella. “Good. Now for tonight I just want a beautiful, caring woman to curl up with; for after my travels and the excitement of this afternoon I am too tired for any fun right now.” With that Stella curled up in Luke's arms and quickly found herself feeling safer than she had felt in years. This man was very kind and considerate; a bit weird for a man but Stella could live with that. He was much better than Richard was that was for sure. When she woke up the next morning, Luke was gone. His spot was still warm though so he wasn't far away. Indeed, as she put her feet on the floor, Luke came through the door holding two bowls of stew. He gave Stella her pick of the two and he took the other one. He also gave her a piece of bread and a few veggies. Now Stella was just blown away by this man. He was far kinder than any other man she had ever met. She was also glad that he had been able to get the fresh virgins before Richard could get to them for Stella knew that Hildyard would be gentle with them; while Richard purposely was extra rough with fresh meat. After they finished eating Luke gave Stella her assignment for the day. “I want you to care for my ladies. Get them cleaned up. A couple of them smell so bad that it is hard to be in the same room with them. Also, if anyone of the bastards so much as touches any of them I want to know about it. Got it?” “Yes, Hildyard” “Good. Now I have to get going for I have a lot of things to get done today.” Chapter 13. Luke wasn't actually worried that anyone would mess with his ladies, he had scared everyone shitless yesterday, but it was always better to be ready. Luke first went to the training yard to work out with some of the other knights and other soldiers, at least that's what he told everyone. In reality he was looking for weaknesses, learning about these knight's fighting styles, and learning just how many men Richard had here. Many of the knights seemed to be second rate and the soldiers only went about their training half heartily. Luke could guess why, but the last thing he wanted to do was ask them. The problem with asking questions is that you tell the person that you're asking that the information you seek is in some way important to you so Luke spoke as little as possible. After a few hours of training, Luke had a little bit of free time, so he wondered the town. Everywhere he went he could feel the people's eyes following him. He could feel the hatred in their looks. This, of course, put him on high alert but thankfully no one attacked. He made sure to quietly pay extra for all the food that he bought. Most of it he would take back for his ladies so that they could start to regain their strength. He dropped the food off in his quarters and went to find Richard for he had an important meeting scheduled. Luke had a contract to sign with the devil. To Luke's surprise, the contract was in order and ready for signature. After signing Luke got his first assignment. He was to go toward London and look for Richard's son William. William should have reported in by now and yet nothing had been heard of him. While out Luke was to keep an eye out for the previous owners. If Luke met them, he was to kill or capture them, whichever was most convent at the time. Luke couldn't believe his ears; this was going to play right into his hands. As an added bonus, he could take his women with him and he would have a small escort. The escort part bothered Luke a bit but they were easy to get rid of. On the other hand, though…Luke requested that he be able to choose his men. He figured that three should be enough. Richard agreed but only allowed Luke two. Luke made sure to pick two of the men that had shown the most hatred toward Richard's knights during the training session. Luke told them that they would be setting out first thing in the morning so they had better get some rest. Upon returning to his chamber for the evening, he was surprised that all his ladies were in the room. When Luke entered, they all stopped talking and looked at him. Luke had to admit that they definitely cleaned up nice. Then Stella stepped forward: “Hildyard, rumor has it that you are leaving in the morning?” “That is correct. Are you speaking for the group, Stella?” “Yes I am.” “Well then get on with it or let them speak for themselves.” “We thank you kindly for the extra food. That was the best that we have ate since this Richard took over.” “Well, no thanks are necessary.” Luke said to the group with a warm smile that always seemed to melt hearts. “Now ladies listen up. I will be leaving very early in the morning on a special mission. I have been given permission for you to accompany me on my journey. We will also have a two-man escort. Now I suggest that all of you get to bed now, for I want to be going through the gate just as it is getting light. Now move and no arguments.” Tonight, Luke took the youngest of the ladies to bed with him. Her name was Gabriel and she reminded Luke a lot of Marion. “Hildyard, I have no idea how to please...” That was as far as she got before Luke cut her off with a gentle kiss. “Do not worry about that for now. Just come sleep next to me for we have to be up early in the morning.” Gabriel was starting to feel things that she had never felt before and Hildyard was causing those feelings. “But” Luke just gave her his special shut the fuck up look. It worked every time he used it, and it did here as well. Gabriel curled up next to Luke and like Stella the night before felt completely safe and quickly fell asleep. As promised, Luke was up very early the next morning. He figured that it was about three AM. He went around to all the ladies, gently woke them up, and ordered them to get ready to leave. Then he made his way to the barracks; here he wasn't gentle at all. He expected his men to follow orders and sure enough, neither of them was up yet. Luke woke them up with his boot on their asses. “Get up you miscible excuses for soldiers! Get up now! When I tell you to be ready to go at a certain time you had better be ready to go.” Luke's voice boomed through the barracks. He was being far meaner than usual on purpose. He figured that these men would probably continue to be soldiers once he helped Marion take over and Luke wanted to get a start on instilling disciple in the men. Luke had to wait almost an hour for the men to get squared away and ready to go. Of course, he had already anticipated this; after all that's why he woke everyone up so early. Finally, everything was ready and the small group set off. The two soldiers weren't happy to put it mildly. They had been dragged out of their billet before dawn, they were assigned to escort a monster and a group of his concubines, and the worst part was that this Hildyard had the complete support of that asshole Earl Richard. They were partisans for the previous landowner and they were convinced that Richard had something to do with the Charles's disappearance. “When that bastard is busy with his women, it will be the prefect chance to get rid of him, and then we can rescue those women and get them back home.” One of the escorts said quietly to the other as they were headed out of the castle. The other nodded in agreement. The trip out of the town gates went quickly for the sun was just starting to lighten up the Eastern sky. Luke made sure that they headed out the right gate so that Marion would see them. As the group was ready to head into the forest, the escort was out in front of the group; they came across a man standing in the road, wearing a long cape with the hood up. “Get out of our way!” one of the escorts, Michael yelled. He was agitated and this man had already pissed him off. “I have just as much right to be on this road as you do.” Answered the man calmly. This really pissed Michael off and he drew his sword. His companion, Tom drew his too. Luke just calmly watched but didn't draw his sword for he figured who the man was. “Why are you not drawing your weapon?” asked Stella “Why bother? The odds are already two-to-one, plus I know who that is and I have no desire to cross swords with her.” “Wait. Her?!?!” exclaimed Stella. “Just watch.” Marion waited until both men committed to their attack before making her move. She used her staff to knock both men off their mounts. Then she made sure to grab both men's mounts before they ran off. The last thing Marion wanted to do was to chase done the horses. She tied the horses to a nearby branch. By the time that Marion got the horses under control and tied up, the men were finally getting to their feet and to say that they were pissed would have been an extreme understatement. How had this peasant dismounted both of them? Marion just waited for them to get up. The men both charged at the same time and this time Marion actually had to fight back a bit. She used a leg sweep to take Tom out and she side-stepped Michael. Before Michael could turn around, Marion had him in a sleep hold and her knee was planted firmly in his back. With Tom still suffering from the wind being knocked out of him; it was just Marion and Michael so when she demanded that he yield, he did. Marion then drew her sword and held it to Tom's throat and demanded that he yield as well. Tom had no choice so he did. Marion then turned to Luke. “Well big guy, how about you? Are you going to join the party?” “I think not. I've done some dumb things in my time, but I'm not stupid.” The ladies in his group looked at him, confused. Luke didn't strike them as cowardly but here he was refusing to give battle and what was those strange words that he used. “No, you're not, Luke. You're a lot of things but you're not dumb.” Giggled Marion Now everyone in the group was confused. Who was this man? Why was Hildyard afraid of him? Who is Luke? “Now that I have everyone's attention...” said Marion. She then dramatically swept off her hood and there was a collective gasp from the group. This man that Hildyard was afraid of was a woman. Stella then recognized who it really was, leapt off her horse, ran to Marion, and fiercely embraced her. Stella whispered in Marion's ear, while embracing her: “What are you doing here? Marion, get out of here. Now! Hildyard has orders to arrest or kill you on sight. Get out of here, I will try and hold Hildyard off so you can escape.” “Stella, why would I want to escape?” Stella was alarmed for she cared deeply about Marion. Marion turned to Luke “Seriously Luke, Hildyard” Luke dropped his Scottish accent “What? I thought it was a nice touch.” With that he got off his horse walked over to Marion, picked her up, kissed her, and swung her around. Marion was laughing during this. Finally, they both turned to the group, who were now confused, afraid, and several emotions that they didn't know what they were. Marion then spoke to the group. “Everyone, I want to introduce to you Luke MacDougall, and yes he is my man. He rescued Cecilia and I when Richard's son attacked us. Luke killed William's men and killed William with his bare hands. Since then, he has been protecting us on the journey home. Cecilia has returned to Lincoln with Lucy until the crisis is over. By the way Luke, your gear is safely hidden away in camp” Luke turned to the women that he had brought with him “All of you are now safe. If you want you can return home.” One of the ladies started crying: “I cannot return home. Richard's men destroyed it.” Marion ran to comfort her while the others gave a similar story. While Marion was taking care of the women, Luke walked over to the guards. “Neither of you have anything to fear. I taught her” Luke pointed at Marion “how to fight. That is why both of you got your asses beat, and no I have no intention of supporting a bastard like Richard. I am completely loyal to Marion.” The relief on the men's faces was as obvious as it was instant. Michael also started to look a bit guilty for he remembered their plans and wasn't sure what to do or even what to think. Luke saved him from further worry. “No need to worry Michael. I figured that you and Tom were planning on killing me eventually. The reason I picked you two was the shear hatred, for Richard and his men, that I had seen in your eyes during our training season the other day.” Both of them were now red as beets and Luke had to laugh. “Part of the training that I got, when I was in the military, was how to look for traps and part of that is properly reading people. Now I am going to need your help. I want to help Marion get rid of Richard permanently. Will you two help me, help her.” “That bastard killed my wife in front of me after he and his men raped her. He took my daughters and made them his concubines, and he hung my sons from the ceiling of my house. He then forced me to be one of his soldiers and if I refused then my daughters would be killed very slowly. I only became one of “his men” to hopefully find a way to save my daughters.” Said Tom “What is your story, Michael?” asked Luke. “My family was killed several years ago. I had to come to town for a few days and when I returned home, I found out that they had all gotten sick and died while I had been gone. I became a soldier so that I would hopefully never have to return to that village again. Life was good while Charles was the lord running things, but under that devil Richard no one is safe. I was actually getting ready to leave and head to London.” “Well men, will we help me and hopefully afterwards stay soldiers but this time under Marion?” Neither man looked at the other one. They went up to Marion, drew their swords, kneeled in front of her, and held their swords up to her. Behind them, Luke smiled. He was happy that once again his instincts had been correct. Marion's embarrassment was just an added bonus. “Stand up, both of you. Luke did you tell them to do this?” Marion asked with a bit of venom in her voice. She had caught him smiling. Luke just shrugged at her. Luke and Marion then spent the next hour learning everyone's stories and telling their story. Neither Luke nor Marion mentioned that Luke was from the future. They were not ready to revile that secret, yet. Eventually, Luke and Marion stood next to each other, Luke with his arm around Marion's shoulder, “So ladies will you help us as well?” asked Marion. “But, we're women...” “And I'm not a woman?” asked Marion cutting them off. “That's…that's not what we meant Lady Marion.” Said the women all at once. Marion looked crossly at them and they all shrunk in fear. They were really thrown for a loop when Marion then smiled warmly at them. “Not to worry for once I was like you. I could not defend myself and then I met Luke. He taught me how to fight and more importantly when to fight and when to retreat and I bet that he will teach all of you too. One more thing, I am just Marion, not Lady Marion” Marion then looked at Luke and he nodded. Chapter 14. Over the next month, Luke and Marion trained everyone in the group basic self-defense tactics. The ladies were amazed at how their fortunes had changed. They had started off as simple concubines only allowed to live if they were able to please men and now, they knew how to protect themselves. Luke also taught them how to be soldiers. The guys didn't really agree with teaching the women how to fight or be soldiers, but they certainly were not going to complain. After all they now had a chance to square accounts with Richard. Part of their training was to ambush groups of Richard's soldiers as they raided the countryside. At first the women had a hard time killing, but they quickly got over it. When they would look at Marion, they would always take heart. In battle, Marion was proving to be not only extremely intelligent but also could be very cold blooded and ferocious when she had to be. She had no problems with executing prisoners that they took. Marion knew that they couldn't give prisoners a chance to escape and warn Richard. They also didn't have the extra manpower to guard them or food to feed them. In every battle, they would strip the dead of gear. When they had extra gear, they would put it in hiding so that they could come back and get it later. The better the women became the more disgruntled Michael became. He didn't believe in women in combat or even having them as soldiers, but he did admit that having them in close quarters did provide him with some unique opportunities for he was a serial rapist and murderer. There was nothing that he liked better then popping a virgin's cherry, filling her up with cum, and then forcing her to suck all the bloody cum off his cock before he strangled them. In this group he thought that he had found the pinnacle of virgins, Gabriel. She was tall, had chestnut colored hair that was full and wavy. She had warm, brown eyes, a firm pair of tits and with all the exercise that she had been getting over the last moth; she was developing a very firm ass. He wasn't worried about the fact that she had taken to Luke and Marion's training the best for he was planning on surprising her, raping, and killing her before anyone else knew what was going on. Afterwards, he would disappear and continue his raping somewhere else. Finally, it was the evening before the group was planning on returning to York. Their raiding of Richard's men had taken its toll on Richard's forces. They were afraid to leave the safety of the castle for even a short distance because just leaving the gates was proving to be very dangerous. Marion had made sure to leave some of the corpses where they could be seen from the castle walls. She had done this at Luke's urging while he explained to her the modern-day concept of Psy Ops. The more she thought about this, the more she liked it. If the enemy could be mentally defeated before battle then you would suffer fewer causalities and maybe you could even avoid a battle in the first place. Michael meanwhile had been watching everyone in the group and he finally saw his perfect opportunity to strike. The rest of the group had bedded down early so that they could get up early and get ready. Gabriel had gone down to the stream so that she could get a quick bath. She was unaware that she was being followed. Just as she had got her clothes off, Michael stuck. He came up to her quickly, put one of his powerful hand over her mouth and held his knife to her throat with the other one. Normally this would have been more than enough, but Gabriel now knew what to do. Before Michael could react, she drove her heal into his knee. While she didn't break it, he was now hurting and lost his grip on Gabriel. As soon has her mouth was free, she screamed. Michael was too busy trying to get control of his prey to care, after all they were a way away from the camp and everyone else had turned in. Michael was able to land a punch squarely in Gabriel's face. This knocked her to the ground and the force of hitting the ground stunned her. Michael untied his pants and slowly lowered them. He loved seeing the fear on his victim's faces when they realized what was about to happen to them. As Michael was getting on his knees so that he could force his way into Gabriel's virgin cunt, he felt something cold and sharp touch the back of his neck. This caused him to freeze. Slowly he turned his head and found himself looking into Marion's expressionless face. “Hey Luke, before we go to sleep, I have something to tell you.” Luke looked down at Marion. She had assumed their usual post coitus spot. Her head lying on his shoulder and one of her legs over his with her cream filled pussy leaking on him. “Oh ya what's that.” Said Luke half asleep. “I'm pretty sure that I'm pregnant. Won't know for sure for a little while but I missed my last period and I've not been feeling good in the mornings.” Luke was now fully awake. During their time together he had never given a thought to Marion getting pregnant. Mentally Luke cursed himself for being such an idiot. Yes, he loved Marion, but Luke wasn't sure why he had been transported to this universe and Marion having a child could cause serious problems if Luke ever got the opportunity to go home. This is why he never told Marion all he knew about the future. He never even told her his real fears of leaking the information that was locked away in his head. Marion misread the look on Luke's face. “Don't worry honey, it was bound to happen eventually and I'm so happy to be carrying your child.” Luke took a deep breath. He was going to have to finally tell Marion all of his fears. As he was about to start, they both heard a scream and recognized it as Gabriel. Marion grabbed her sword and raced off toward the scream as fast as she could still naked. Luke stopped to put his pants and then he was following in Marion's wake with both of his swords. When Luke caught up, he found Gabriel on the ground still stunned. Her clothes had been put on a nearby branch so Luke assumed that she had been getting a bath. Marion had her sword at someone's neck but however it was, was facing away from Luke. Then they turned their head and Luke could see that it was Michael. Luke went over and helped Gabriel to her feet and gave her back her dress. Meanwhile Marion was forcing Michael to return to camp without his clothes. Gabriel had serious problems walking so Luke decided just to carry her. He gently picked her up and cradling her in his arms, carried her back. Marion forced Michael back to camp and made him get on his knees. “You think making me get on my knees will change anything bitch then you are dumber than I thought you were. I was well within my rights as a man to demand that she service me.” Marion leaned in and whispered in his ear “It's not just me that you have to worry about. And if you think that raping that poor girl makes you a man then I have to wonder how humans have survived so long. With such sorry excuses for a man as yourself, we should have all died off thousands of years ago. I'm willing to bet that it was actually Adam that got humans kicked out of the garden and when the men writing the bible realized the truth, they switched the roles so that history wouldn't find out the truth.” By this time, Luke had returned with Gabriel and she was starting to recover. Luke tried to hand her off to Stella to care for but Gabriel wasn't having it. “I want to see what happens to him.” Her voice was one of iron and Luke knew that arguing wouldn't do him any good. “Well come on then” was all he said. Luke was actually impressed when he realized what Marion was doing. She was organizing a trial by jury. Everyone knew what had happened but Marion wanted to start establishing a precedent. She was obviously thinking long term and Luke was impressed. Once everyone in the group had gathered; the trail started. Gabriel told all what happened and what Michael said. Michael was given the opportunity to defend himself but refused. He obviously didn't realize Marion's growing power and strength. Finally, it was time for the group to vote on Michael's guilt or innocence. The entire group voted Michael guilty. Michael was stunned when Tom voted with the women. While Michael had been growing disgruntled, Tom had been changing as well. He saw the women getting stronger and he found that he was being drown to them and one in particular, Stella. They were close to the same age and had both had a hard life. Stella, for her part, was well aware of Tom's attraction to her and while she hadn't made a final decision on the matter yet, she was starting to have naughty thoughts about Tom especially while Luke and Marion were practicing their love making. With the guilty verdict, Marion passed sentence on Michael. He would be castrated, his balls would be forced down his throat, and then he would be executed. Luke was stunned by her harshness. He had never seen Marion so cold as she was now but he didn't argue. After all, this was her time era not his, and after the word got around of what she was capable of then hopefully there wouldn't be as much resistance for her. Marion ordered Michael tied to two trees. She then stood in front of him as she slowly sharpened her knife. Finally, Marion reached down and cut Michael's balls off. As he was screaming, Marion put his balls in his mouth and then covered his nose and clamped his mouth shut so that he would have to swallow his balls. After he swallowed his balls, Michael was crying. Luke and Tom cringed but didn't look away; after all nobody had forced Michael to attempt to rape Gabriel. Marion then drew her knife across Michael's throat, cutting the jugular and carotid. It took a minute or so for Michael to bled out. During that time, Stella came up next to Tom and held his hand. After all, Michael had started off being Tom's best friend. Marion then ordered that Michael's body be left where it was. It was getting late and they had to travel almost half a day tomorrow to get back to York. Chapter 15. Marion grows as a leader but only after some serious pain. It was early the next morning when Luke and Marion woke the group up. The sun was just starting to light up the Eastern sky but everyone in the group was used to getting up this early. They made sure to cook up an extra hardy breakfast for they didn't know when they would be able to eat again. Over the previous month the scared young women that had traveled out of York with Luke had been replaced with strong, young women that thought like soldiers and fought like lions. They now all carried swords and knives and knew how to use them. Every one of them also wore a leather overcoat that they could wrap around themselves to protect against swords or even long-range arrows. Under that they wore a green shirt and pants. Sown inside each shirt was light steel and leather armor that Luke had designed to deflect blows. They each also carried a helmet that was radically different than anything else currently in use. It looked a cross between a World War two German helmet and a modern U S military helmet. He had designed it this way to be able to give maximum protection with the materials available. Gabriel also carried a bow that she had gotten to be very good with. She was good enough to put an arrow into someone's eye from fifty paces. Luke was extremely proud of the ladies and of Tom. Tom had helped train everyone in sword use and had grown to love each of the ladies like sisters except Stella. No, her he loved romantically. What's more she was also falling in love with him. Tom was armed like all the women and he loved this new gear. It was lighter than his previous gear and protected him far better. It was a warm morning when they set out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. They made quite a sight the seven of them, Marion, Luke, Tom, and the four women that were “suppose” to be Luke's whores. In that group there was from oldest to youngest: Stella, Pollyanna, Alice, and Gabriel. Stella was the leader of the group being the oldest amount them. Pollyanna was showing signs of wanting to become an engineer like Luke. Alice was showing an interest in medicine, while Gabriel was the sharpshooter and Luke thought that she might make one hell of a sniper. One of the other things that Luke had started teaching them was how to read and write for soldiers needed to know how to read orders and make out reports. It took the group almost half a day to reach York. During their trip they had to hide once to avoid a large patrol that Richard had sent out. Yes, they could have taken the patrol out but it was now far more important for the group to get to York. When they got to the gates Luke had to talk fast to get through. Once through, the group was deeply disturbed by what they found. The town had gone further downhill. The people were now walking skeletons and the streets were full of filth. The soldiers walking around took whatever they pleased including having their way with anything they pleased. Marion actually vomited at the horror that was before her. Still, they had a mission to accomplish. All the ladies were well aware that every soldier had their eyes on them. Many of the soldiers whipped out their cocks and waved them at the women. Marion actually snickered at some at the tiny cocks that were being waved at her, for Luke's was far bigger. At least she was still feeling good enough to snicker. Finally, the group reached the castle. Luke told the guard who he was and they let him in. They easily remembered him. Once in the group was in for another surprise, especially Tom, for Richard was in the middle of an orgy and Tom's daughters were in it. Luke had to act fast to keep the group under control for Tom was furious and Luke's “whores” were about to gut Richard where he was. Problem was that there were too many of Richard's loyal men in the room and they wouldn't have made it out, even with their skills. They had to release the men loyal to Marion first, that is if any of them were left. First thing that Luke had to do was to make his report. Richard wasn't happy that he was being interrupted mid orgy but he did stop long enough to listen. “I am sorry Milord, but we traveled all the way to London and did not find a trace of William. We heard some rumors of him but we could not find him.” “Well, you may go now, but I shall want to talk to you more later about this matter.” “Yes Milord.” Luke turned around and got the hell out of there and made his way back to his chamber. Once there, he found Tom puking his guts out, Stella was trying to comfort him. The ladies were white as ghost, seeing the fate that so far, they had avoided. Marion was the worst one, of the group, for not only was she puking but she was crying her eyes out. She had known some of the women that she had seen in the orgy. That is even if you could call the women people anymore. Luke knew that they had to move fast for he figured that it wouldn't be long before Richard came for “his” women as well. Within an hour Luke got a message that Richard wanted to see him immediately so Luke put the rest of the group on alert and he left to meet with Richard. “Ah Hildyard, Good to see you.” “It is good to be seen, sir.” “So, you found no sign of my son or his men?” “No Milord and we traveled all the way to London. If they had been there, we found no signs of them. We came back a different route and still found no signs of them.” “Now tell me about the whores that came in with you.” “Well, traveling fast does tend to make any fat disappear and they travel faster when they are healthy.” “By my count, you left with four, but I could have sworn that I see you come back with five.” “The fifth one is my intended, sir. I also must report the loss of one of my men. We were ambushed on the road. Tom and I had to fight hard to get out. By the time we did, there was no sign of Michael. We think that the bandits took him for we searched afterwards and found only some of his gear.” “So you couldn't find my son and you lost one of my men in the process; Hildyard, if you disappoint me anymore then I will take back the whores and might even have to take your intended. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, Milord.” “Good, now get the fuck out of my sight.” To be continued in part 4, Based on a post by somethin fishy, for Sex Stories.

TRAITOROUS FBI Agents FIND OUT after KNEELING for Marxism! FAFO!

AP correspondent Donna Warder reports on the firing of FBI agents protesting for racial justice.

Kneeling down was to appeal for peace within my constituency and the NPP — not an apology to Ken Agyapong, nor a show of support for his presidential bid. - Kojo Frimpong, Former PC for Wenchi Constituency, clarifies.

Legends of Godiva: Part 4A mysterious stranger comes, the lovers are parted.Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels."Oh good, I was afraid Sir Hulgar might skip over the mutilations at Sandwich;" Godgifu whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose between her eyes."So; so sorry;" Leofric said, slowly turning a greenish color."But, God was watching!" Sir Hulgar raged, thrusting his gnarled and scarred finger in the air. "The Danish demon defiled the blessed throne of England but a few weeks, before his own horse threw him to his death, ending forever his accursed reign!" At this point, almost all the children cheered, for indeed Sir Hulgar told the tale with such verve and animation that most people would not have believed it possible from a man who spoke mostly through grunts and threatening glares."His kingdom, freed from the ravages of the invaders, the Witengamot restored King Aethelred to his throne; and there was much rejoicing," Sir Hulgar said, nodding at the divinely just outcome. Then, he frowned as he noticed a small hand raised over a head canted in deep thought."Don't do it; don't do it;" Godgifu quietly urged through clenched teeth."Yes?" Sir Hulgar barked to where Frederic sat with his question."He did it;" Godgifu sighed, her shoulders slumping."But; why did King Aethelred come back? The Witengamot agreed to make the Danish one king, so why wasn't his son the king, after that? Wasn't that the bargain?" Frederic asked, frowning at the discontinuity."The barbarian King's son was a mere youth at the time, and the Witengamot saw the chance to place God's chosen English king on the throne, once more. It came at a dear price, but one they were willing to pay," Sir Hulgar answered, his face grave."But what happened to the hostages, then? The kin that the Witengamot gave to the invader to back up their promise?" Frederic pressed."The Viking's son discarded the hostages on the beach at Sandwich, after carving off all of their noses, ears and hands," Sir Hulgar answered, gesturing to show the carving motions of the knife and making a wet ripping sound for effect, "returning the wretched victims to their families mutilated, if they even survived their terrible wounds at all. You still see some of them around; veils and gloves covering their hideous scars, forever a burden to the families that sacrificed them to free their land."At these words, the children all turned with wide eyes to where Godgifu sat, ominously gloved and veiled."Uh, I can attest that Her Ladyship has all the proper body parts, having seen;" Leofric began, before receiving a swift kick from his future spouse."Oh, for heaven's sake," Godgifu sighed, unbuttoning her long gloves and wiggling them off her hands and displaying her whole limbs for the children's benefit. Their concerns only partly relieved, the kids remained dubious and continued staring, trying to fathom the violent secrets her veil no doubt kept hidden."In for a pound?" Leofric asked Godgifu, quickly glancing to Sir Hulgar who stood at the ready and glared threateningly at the assembly in the hall.Leofric and Godiva had talked about this, about her someday shedding her veils and allowing herself to be seen as she was. Knowing he would love her and be by her side, no matter what happened, gave Godiva courage. She nodded, deciding that, if only for the sake of the children, she could do this."I;"Godgifu began, her mouth suddenly dry, then spoke to the assembly. "The veils, were for the comfort and tastes of my late husband, Lord Wilfred. God rest him," she said, carefully lifting her veils only enough to show the children that each ear was intact and whole. "They became a comfort to me after he died, but also a barrier between me and all of you. I believe every comfort has the potential to become a weakness that keeps us from being whole;" she said, steeling herself. "And so, I must ask your pardon, if my weaknesses have caused any of you injury; and ask your forgiveness, for hiding from you for so long," she said quietly, slowly raising the veil in front of her face.Godgifu's cheeks flushed and people gasped as her neck, her chin, and then her lips were revealed. She paused and swallowed, screwing up her courage to raise the veil a little more; just enough to show her nose, when her entire face was suddenly revealed when Leofric decided to be helpful and took the entire covering off her and threw it to the floor.Wide eyed and speechless, she whipped her face to him, shock clearly written upon her features. Leofric, suddenly realizing he had erred, lifted her veil from the floor and folded it clumsily before returning it to her in a haphazard bundle, but the damage had been done. Terrified, Godgifu nonetheless straightened her neck, squared her shoulders and looked out at the assembly.Face after face staring at her, seeing her; not shielded by a translucent cloth, but bare and unadorned. She loved them all; and she had lied to them. She had held herself above them out of need, claiming a false standard that she failed to uphold. She was a fraud. She deserved to be dragged through the streets and left to die. The people of Coventry deserved so much better than her.No one moved. No one spoke. Indeed, it seemed no one even breathed until Frederic rose from the group of children and came to stand before her. "It's nice to see your face, my Lady," he said, head still canted in thought, his eyes taking in every detail. "I don't think there has ever been a beauty like yours seen in Coventry;" he said, offering her a wildflower."Hear, hear!" cheered Reverend Palmer, clapping enthusiastically from the back of the room. Cheers and yells of agreement filled the hall, as applause gradually broke out amongst the assembly."Thank you, Frederic," she whispered, taking the flower from him with a shaking hand, she looked over the cheering assembly in bewilderment. How was this possible? Did they not recognize her? She hadn't been brazen in her appearances as the outlaw Godiva, but she had been known generally about the town.Blushing, she stood and nodded to the assembly in thanks, "I don't understand; don't they see?" she asked, glancing at Leofric who smiled down at her."Of course, they see you; they've always seen you," Leofric said, looking out at the assembly. "But, as is often the case, people will see what they want to see; and I think they've been waiting to see you for quite a while.""Do you; do you think they knew it was me? Godgifu and Godiva? All this time?"Leofric chuckled to himself, wondering how his future wife could be so completely self-delusional as to think her unique height and build would go completely unnoticed when perfectly duplicated by a mysterious outlaw. "I think Coventry is a small village; and that these people love you," he replied.The gathering winded down and people gradually went on about their business, taking one last look at their unmasked Lady before leaving. The boys, thrilled with their new storyteller, surrounded Sir Hulgar and pelted him with questions about Viking raids and other gory conquests, eventually pulling him from the hall to show them the proper shape and heft of a Viking battle axe.At length, only a solitary figure remained in the hall. It was a man, extremely tall and broad, and shrouded. He kept himself to the shadows, though the hall was not brightly lit. Uneasy, Leofric watched the man gradually approach the dias. Taking care not to give the appearance of doing so, Leofric maneuvered his own body to be between the stranger and the unveiled Godgifu, at all times."This 'Visiting Day,'" the man's accented voice called to them as he approached closer and closer to the dias, "Is good, I think, yes? You see the eyes, and the eyes; they see you," he said, thoughtfully.Leofric's senses sharpened, exactly as they had before going into battle, and he quickly searched the room for the others that must surely have come along with this shrouded stranger. This was not how such things were done; and the secrecy of it did not bode well.Sensing Leofric's tension, but not understanding the cause, Godgifu took his arm and petted it, peering awkwardly around his large body to the stranger. "Hello, sir," she greeted him, "Are you new to Coventry? Welcome.""I am new to many places, here, yes?" the man said, still approaching at a measured pace. "This story; to this, I am not new. This story I hear many times, but not told just so," the voice continued. "This story; it is told in whispers and not to children. But this story is not finished, yes? What happened to the son?" he asked, quietly.The hairs on her neck rose, and Godgifu looked more closely at the tall shrouded stranger and suddenly understood Leofric's tension, his hand carefully pressing her behind him, resisting her efforts to come forward. This was not how such things were done; but, regardless, she would not allow Leofric to be harmed for her offenses.With swift resolve, she darted backward until she was free of Leofric's restraining arm and quickly skirted out of reach around him and ran to the approaching figure. Kneeling in a low curtsy as she replied, "The son returned to England with a great force and took back the land he ruled by rights, and despite the violence needed to establish his rule, he showed great mercy in marrying Aethelred the Unready's widow Emma. In sparing her remaining children's lives, and in showing great patience as the people recovered from the wars and accepted him, Cnut the Great, as their ruler and King of the English, Danes and Norwegians; Your Highness," she whispered, bowing her head and closing her eyes.The hall was silent, but for the heavy beating of her heart. She wondered, briefly, if the king could hear it, as well. As she waited for her fate, other thoughts drifted unbidden through her mind. For one, Godgifu realized she never knew how drafty it was in the hall before, feeling the chill air creeping across the back of her vulnerable, unveiled neck for the first time. Would she be killed immediately? Her blood spilled across the floor, staining the stones until time washed them clean of all but the memory? Or would she be left alive but mutilated, the newly unmasked mistress of the town turned into a grotesque warning to others? Would Leofric stay with her, if she was hideous? Would he even be allowed to live?Then, she heard the rustle of a hood being pushed back. A hand took her chin and tilted her face upward to a face that was so strikingly handsome that, despite her terror, she found herself blushing. Stunning eyes examined her face and she let out a shaking breath, wondering if this was the last expression so many of her countrymen had seen before they died. Cnut the Great should have looked like a crueler man, ugly and savage, but he didn't. His face was mind-numbingly beautiful; and yet, strangely annoyed."And some of the Swedes;" he said, as if reminding her for the hundredth time. "Swedes! Stubborn! Smiling and stubborn! You tell them 'do this!' and always they say 'ja, ja' and then go do what they want! Why no one remember I win them, too? Very difficult people," he grumbled to himself, turning her face from side to side, an appraising look in his eye. Looking up to Leofric, he canted his head with a glint in his eye, "I did not know this was under the veils. If I had;" he trailed off, a hint of a smile on his face.Relaxing a little, Leofric took a knee himself, "You're better off as you are, Sire. With this one, you would be without the support of the Witengamot, have gnome-sized children, half as much money, and twice as much trouble," Leofric replied dryly. "Your choice of wife was faultless. Your choice of my wife, however;" he said, folding his arms in exasperation.Cnut returned his attention to Godgifu's recently unwrapped face. "You marry this one, yes?" he stated sternly, nodding toward Leofric, still holding her chin."Uh huh;" she said breathily, unable to think clearly beyond a few simple words. The blue of his eyes made her feel like she had fallen under the ice of a frozen mountain lake."Umm;" he said dubiously, "You be good? Let this one wear pants?" he asked, raising his eyebrows."Uh huh;" she agreed, her eyes drifting leisurely down over his large muscled frame, "Well, some of the time," she amended, swallowing and staring unthinkingly at his groin."Seriously?" Leofric complained, arms akimbo.Cnut pulled her chin upward until Godgifu was standing. He bent over until they were eye-to-eye. "And you will give me what is mine. What I use to protect you. What feeds the soldiers. What builds the ships. And for being bad and making me wait, you will submit to your; punishment," he said, his eyes glinting as Godgifu shivered involuntarily at his last drawn-out word.Swimming in a haze of terrified lust, Godgifu's mind formed the words "Yes, Your Highness," with enormous effort, but what came out of her mouth was more akin to an acquiescent moan."Good," Cnut said, releasing her chin, "Go wait in his bed. I send him soon," he ordered, straightening and turning his gaze to Leofric as Godgifu nodded and obediently wandered out of the hall.Bewildered, Leofric waited kneeling, as was only proper. One did not question the king about why he came to a town in his own kingdom, much less alone, to all appearances. The fact that Cnut came without pomp was one thing. Many men had little patience for the trimmings and splendor of royal life. But, coming without any apparent companions was another thing altogether. Sir Hulgar would have returned instantly if there had been a regiment of soldiers outside. No, the king was almost certainly alone; and cloaked to hide his identity. Something was wrong; and he needed it kept quiet.Cnut looked down at him, haltingly opened and closed his mouth several times, seeming to search for words, and eventually becoming frustrated and cursing in Danish. "Shall I search for an interpreter, Sire; or will yours be joining us?" Leofric asked."No; no interpreters. A little gold makes their tongues go bad; mine speaks with hands, now," Cnut said darkly. "Stand. We use your English. Aelfgifu of Northampton; you are kin to her, yes?" he asked.Leofric blinked in surprise, then frowned, "Well, only by marriage; I think my father's brother married her second cousin; or cousin once removed; how does that go?" Leofric fumbled, wondering how his distant kinship with a Northampton noblewoman could possibly matter to the king."You are kin," Cnut barked, as if that settled the matter. "Pack for travel and go fuck wife. After dark, we ride north.""Sire, I; I'm supposed to get married in three days. What will I tell Lady Godgifu? She'll be furious!""You not married yet?" Cnut asked, a look of piqued curiosity on his face and a small smile playing on his lips. "Tell her you go, but after you fuck. Say with handsome face. Marry after we return. This is not problem," he concluded, looking appraisingly around the hall."Can you tell me where we're going, at least, Sire? When we'll be back?""Yes. We ride north. Torskey. Tell no one. Go fuck not-wife. Everything fine," Cnut said, looking at the door through which Godgifu left.Leofric kept his face calm, despite his inner thoughts. Torskey was not the average out-of-the-way English town; it was an off-season Viking camp where the raiders' ships were pulled up on shore and the populace wintered in tents and rough huts together. Cnut was inviting him to ride along into a camp full of bored barbarians for reasons unknown. Well, Cnut was ordering him to go, more than inviting him; for no Englishman in his right mind would go there voluntarily. Everything was definitely not fine."Where are his troops? How many?" Godgifu asked, leaning out the window looking over the town trying to spy out the king's companions as Leofric entered the room."Why?" Leofric asked, going about the room collecting items to pack, "Did you want to fuck them, too?" he growled under his breath.Stunned, Godgifu turned to look at him, "What's that supposed to mean? What's going on?" she asked, from her precarious window perch.Scowling, Leofric pulled her bodily from the window by her waist and tossed her onto the bed. "He wants me to go with him. North," he snarled."But; we're getting married! Can't it wait? Why is he going north?""Oh, I have no clue! Maybe Cnut the Cuntwetter intends to subdue the English populace with his Nordic good looks! You certainly didn't put up much of a fight! I need weapons; where's the armory?" Leofric said, stalking out of the room."What are you talking about?" Godgifu yelled, running after him. "Are you seriously angry with me?""Uh huh;" Leofric cooed breathlessly, mocking her reaction to Cnut. Shocked at his demeanor, Godgifu retreated a few steps, the man before her seeming nothing like the one that had so easily won her heart.Then, anger replaced her shock and she stomped back into the forfeited space, "Well, fine! So, he's handsome! Like; really, really handsome! So what? Is it really so important to you to be the prettiest face in the room? Why the hell are you mad at me?" she asked, grabbing his arm.Leofric leaned in, blocking her against the wall with his body, "I guess I just didn't realize a pretty face was all it took to turn your head; I guess you really are all the same;" he sneered, tracing her neckline with his finger, dipping deeply into the crevice of her tits.Angry, Godgifu slapped his hand away, only to have it return with ruder ambition, "What are you talking about? Just because I thought he was handsome, doesn't mean that I;" she said, suddenly cut off by Leofric's lips crushing hers, his teeth scraping hers uncomfortably. She broke the kiss and struggled against him, trying to see his face to read it, but he grabbed a handful of her hair and bent her head back, kissing down her neck roughly, as if to prove a point.Godgifu ducked under his arm to escape, but Leofric pinned her to the wall of the stairway, reaching under her dress as she struggled and kicked against him. "Are you telling me that I won't find you dripping and ready after just a few sultry looks from a handsome face? Who cares if he cuts people's tongues out; why should that get in the way of a good time?" he growled, pushing her legs apart with his thigh and hiking up her skirt."Leofric! What's wrong with you? Stop it! Let go of me!""Oh no, little hypocrite, we're going to see how wet you are, first. I'll probably die before I get a chance at the prize, but maybe if I can get you to be honest with yourself, you won't have to work so hard to replace me. You can just hold a fucking beauty contest," he hissed, thrusting his fingers roughly inside her.Several things happened at a speed too great for Leofric to comprehend, but in the next instant he found himself on the floor wheezing for breath, cupping his genitals and feeling like his left eye might fall out. Godgifu stood over him panting and rubbing her elbow with tears of betrayal brimming in her large eyes.Angry, and still unable to see beyond being right, Leofric lifted up his hand and showed her his fingers, glistening and dripping with the honey of her arousal. Her face twisted, and she nodded her head, her lower lip trembling. "Yeah. I get excited; and when I'm excited, I want to fuck;" she choked, tears rolling down her cheeks, "but the only one I wanted to fuck was you; because I was yours. You made me feel safe," she said brokenly, before turning on her heel and disappearing in a flash of skirts.Leofric stared down the empty passage. She was gone. As the realization of what he had just done settled on him, Leofric felt ill. He had acted in such a way that made her use force to run from him. Back in the hall, he really hadn't even been angry about Godgifu's reaction to Cnut, finding it more humorous than anything else. He had never really doubted her loyalty or love for him, but in his fear and anger over his forced mission, he had jealously lashed out at her in the ugliest possible way. "I was yours; you made me feel safe" her voice coming back to him as pure torture, declaring his greatest accomplishments as things existing only in the past. Coughing, he used the wall to push himself up and wobble on toward the armory. Perhaps, she would allow him to beg her forgiveness before he left; if he could even find her.Near nightfall, after his search for Godgifu through the great house came up fruitless, Leofric returned to the hall to find King Cnut and Sir Hulgar engrossed in a game of dice. Alongside them, the betting pot consisting of some coins, a knife, a decorative pin, and what looked like a strangely large molar, awaited the winner. Sir Hulgar scowled over the dice as he shook them in his enormous hand, murmuring an incantation and closing his eyes as he released them. With a roar of triumph from Hulgar and an exaggerated howl of pain from Cnut, Sir Hulgar scraped the pot to himself, rubbed the tooth on his tunic, and wiggled it into his mouth.Standing with his winnings, Sir Hulgar clapped Cnut on the shoulder in hearty approval, despite horrifying the town with stories of his conquest not hours ago. Then Godgifu's knight protector noticed Leofric and grinned, taking in his black eye, swollen nose and ungainly walk with a degree of pride. "The fighting I could teach her, but not the speed; she was born with that. You never see it coming," he said, nodding, then turning back to Cnut, "It has been an honor to lighten your load, Your Highness," he said, bowing low and leaving the room."How is it that everybody likes you, Sire?" Leofric grudgingly wondered aloud, shaking his head as he watched Sir Hulgar leave."I am Cnut," he said simply, shrugging. Then, turning to Leofric with a look of annoyance, "I tell you 'fuck not-wife first, then tell her that you go,' you do not listen. Now, handsome face not handsome and everything more work. Stubborn! You are Swedish?""No, Sire. I made an ass of myself, left her unsatisfied, and with any luck, I'll be apologizing to her for the rest of my life. I am definitely English," Leofric sighed. "Will you please tell me why we are going to Torskey?"Cnut looked at Leofric for a long moment, then nodded as he led him out of the hall, and began walking toward the stables. "This story the Hulgar tells of my father Sweyn Forkbeard; it begins earlier. It started on the day of the St. Brice. You know this day?"

Welcome to an all new Carolina Reeper! In this episode... I'm giving money away!   Again! Who will win? Tune in to find out! Also, it's National Soft Ice Cream Day. So grab yourself a cone, a bowl, or just hold it under the machine like a ferrel kid at a Golden Corral.   In our Best Trends segment — the Cambridge Dictionary just added new words. Are they delulu?   Also trending, salmon-flavored candy. Is it candy or bait?   In Small Town News, demon bunnies. Yep, in Colorado, they've got rabbits with horns growing out of their heads.   Also! A big shoutout and thank you to Carthage, Texas and Alexandria, LA. Love y'all, thanks for coming out and supporting live comedy.   And sadly, we've got to say goodbye to a legend. Terence Stamp aka General Zod, gone at 87. He told us to “kneel before Zod.” Well tonight, we bow our heads instead. Rest easy, General.   So tune in, hang out with me in the comments, and let's do this thing together.   Don't be delulu — it's gonna be straight-up snackable comedy. All this and more on this week's Carolina Reeper!   Jon Reep Social Media: Facebook Twitter Instagram TikTok   Accent Imaging has your office Printers, Plotters, Printing, Graphics & Signs for your business.   Go try the Jon Un-REEP-eatable Burger at the Hickory Social House!   For gifts and more in the Hickory, NC area check out Goodwill Northwest NC!    Get you a Honda and a Hotdog at Hendrick Honda of Hickory!   Jon's pool was designed and built by True North Pools   Buy South in Ya Mouth BBQ Sauce here!    

In Psalm 138, we see a glimpse of how a perfect King leads His people.  Pastor AL Dagel brings us to the throne room on our Saturday in the Psalms episode. 

A listener named John asks Father Dave about correct postures when receiving the Eucharist. “I've seen an increase of people kneeling to receive communion. I've heard Father Dave comment on this before, but I'm wondering if he can address this.” John begins. “Every week, our priest calls out people for leaving after communion [before Mass ends]. Why not correct those who kneel to receive when that's not an option given to us by the Church, when not in a traditional Latin Mass setting?”  

Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 8 Summer Plans Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.  At dinner I checked in with Ivy first, then Vanessa when she had finished for the day and joined us. I also made a point of stopping to check in with Dani to see what she was thinking about her new co-team members, who she thought would work out fine, and Kyla. "I think she's a lot quieter than the rest of us," Dani told me as we sat side by side near Leo's RV. "Which isn't a bad thing, obviously. She isn't as used to being around girls like us though. Erica worked with strippers because of her job, along with all sorts of other crazy people, so it's whatever for her. Kyla obviously isn't used to how open we all are about sex things." I pressed my lips together and nodded, watching her as she sat in a group with Erica, Vanessa and Aria chatting. She was obviously engaged, but didn't offer much to the conversation and seemed happy to listen. "Anything else?" I asked. "Anything weird come up?" "No. Should I be watching for something?" Danielle asked. "No, no," I assured her. "I just; Erica, Ivy, Vanessa; it's working. It's crazy, but it's working. I'm worried about Kyla messing that up." "It should be fine," Dani said, patting me on the shoulder. "Erica will Mom them into shape if things get out of whack, and if she's the problem you can just spank her until she apologizes." That made me snort and shake my head with a grin. "You and her talk too much." "Or maybe we don't talk enough," Dani grinned. We folded ourselves back into the larger conversations, me joining the group with Kyla while Dani went to sit with Leo, India and Ivy. As the sun was setting we busted out the fire pit and Vanessa pointed me towards the nearest brush piles I could harvest some wood from; it seemed she'd handily directed some of her workers to pile it within easy walking distance. Then, once the fire was crackling and we all had our drinks of choice, we told the new women our story. We started with Leo and I, then how Erica had joined us for quarantine. We both teased her about hearing her masturbating, which until that moment she hadn't realized had been the case and made her blush. Then we talked about the land lease, the construction, and the introduction of Dani, Vanessa, and Ivy. Vanessa told us how fucking crazy she thought we were at first, but after that first night around the fire she'd realized something weird but special was going on so she stopped judging and started getting a little jealous. Then Ivy told her perspective, stepping into a life with Erica and me. Then we had to tell the story of Vanessa joining us, which got rushed over really quickly and then had to be retold because even Dani hadn't gotten all the details. I'd purposefully sat beside Kyla around the fire, Erica taking the spot on the other side of me. As India and Aria started ragging on Vanessa for not giving them the full story in the initial car ride when they met her, Kyla leaned over to me. "Can we talk? In private?" "Sure," I said, nodding towards our RV. I leaned back in the other direction to Erica and kissed her cheek, and she met my eye and nodded. Inside the RV Kyla had taken the Murphey seat this time so I sat on the bench opposite her. "You still feeling alright?" I asked her. "No," she laughed. Inside, in the more steady light of the RV, I could see she was flushed even with her slightly darker Filipina skin. "I feel like I've got a fever, but it's concentrated in all my erogenous zones. I don't even like women but that story about Vanessa has me..." She blew out a long breath. "I don't know how much more sex talk I can take before I snap." "I can ask them to stop if you want. Or we can have that conversation if you think you're ready." "I'm; Yeah, I'm ready to talk," she said. She took another deep breath and sat up straighter, putting her hands on her knees like she was trying to focus herself. "You can ask anything you want, and I'll try to answer," I promised her. "I don't have questions," she said. "Well, I actually have lots of questions, but they aren't important right this second. Seeing you with Erica and Ivy, and meeting Vanessa. Hearing the way Leo and Danielle talk about you. I think I know what I'd be getting into if I do this with you. And to be honest, it sounds pretty greater considering the other options that the world seems to be moving toward right now. But I never want to be someone who just takes the easy thing because it's in front of them. I know a lot about you now, but you don't know much about me. And I'll tell you, pretty much anything you want to know, but there's something I need to know if you're Okay with. More than my past, more than whatever your government is worried about." "The only way to know is to ask," I said, trying not to let my own nerves out. Kyla, who had been steady throughout the day, was showing signs of anxiety amidst her hard pressure to keep herself under control. "If I don't like it, we can try and find someone else as soon as possible." "I don't want,” She bit her tongue, cutting herself off, and took a breath. "Harrison. If I do this, if I imprint on you, this is my out. I've been doing everything my father wanted since I was a kid. The only escape I ever had was through dance, and even that he took control of to make sure I was getting the best lessons and tutors and going to the best camps and schools. And even then, he and NICA used it as well. My entire life I've been pushed and trained and taught and used because I didn't matter and my country and my service did. I want a new life, Harri. But I want that life the way I want it. I want a big family. I was an only child, and my parents tolerated each other at best in a political marriage. I want six kids at least, more if we can. Fuck, I'll pop out an even dozen and be happy. Or maybe not, maybe I'll be happy earlier than that, but I know I want a lot of kids to love on and raise in a big, supportive family. "If you can handle that, and if Erica can handle that because I know she's going to need to agree to it too, then I swear to God I'll be loyal to you and only to you. My father, NICA, my country; I can leave them all behind and in the dust if you can promise me we'll try to make my dream life happen. And I promise I'll be the best, hottest housewife I can be for as long as you can keep me barefoot and pregnant. I'll make sure I'm fit and tight and everything I can be for you in between pregnancies, but God I want this, Harri. I've never told anyone this before, but I want it so fucking bad." I didn't know what to say. She was practically sobbing in her earnest desire for what she was asking. I just slid down to my knees on the floor of the RV and wrapped my arms around her and Kyla clutched at me as she panted hard. Not crying, but desperately trying to control herself. "Kyla, I would be an extremely lucky man if I can give that all to you," I said. "And I want to tell you yes right away, but you're right. I do need to check with Erica first. Do you want me to call her in to ask her now?" She hesitated a moment, then nodded and sat back on the chair, sucking in a deep and unsteady breath. I stood up and opened the RV door, sticking my head out. All three of my women looked over to me and I made what I hoped was a reassuring smile, then locked eyes with Erica and motioned her over with a head jerk. She joined us, shutting the RV door behind her. "What's up?" she asked. "Everything Okay?" I looked at Kyla. "Do you want me to ask, or you?" "I; You," she said after hesitating. I turned to Erica and reached out, holding her hand. "So, I know we had our conversation earlier, but I didn't realize this was coming or maybe we would have talked about it more seriously. Kyla is ready to join us, but she has an ask. Because of her own family past, one thing she wants more than anything is to have kids. A whole bunch of them. So she wants to know if you and I are Okay with that and willing for that to happen, or if we should try to find her someone else who can help her get the life she wants." Erica's eyes had widened as I was speaking and her jaw worked a few times before she could find the right words. Then she turned to Kyla and looked at her for a long, long moment before putting a hand on her shoulder. "That's the most important thing for you?" she asked quietly. Kyla nodded, then looked up to meet Erica's gaze. "More than anything else. And I want to do that with Harrison; God, I haven't even known him a day but it's like I can see it right there in front of me. He'd make a great husband and an even better father. I just know he's yours more than either of the others, and I couldn't risk saying yes to him without you saying yes to this." "God, fuck," Erica sighed, and I realized she was tearing up as well. She looked to me. "Yes, obviously, if it's what she needs then yes. But I guess now I need to stop taking the pill because I'm not just gonna sit by and not be in the running for the first mother of your child." Now it was my turn to be surprised. "But we just,” She kissed me to shut me up. "It doesn't matter," she said. "I love you, you love me. If the world implodes and we're all shot off into space, I still won't regret making a kid with you." She turned to Kyla. "Are you going to love him?" "I'm going to try," she said. "And I'll work harder at it than my parents ever did." "Then yes," Erica said. "But, and I'll only ever say this once and you need to listen to me closely, if this isn't the truth and you hurt Harrison or me or anyone else here then I swear to everything in heaven and hell that I will end you. Do we understand each other?" Kyla nodded, taking her seriously. "I do, and I won't." "Okay," Erica said, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "You clearly need a fuck, so unless you've suddenly turned Bi then I should leave you to it." She turned to me and kissed me hard, and I hugged her to keep her close. "You're sure?" I asked her in a whisper. She nodded. "Rock her world, babe. Show her why she's one of the four luckiest women on the planet." She kissed my cheek, squeezed my fingers in hers, and then stepped away and out of the RV. Kyla looked like she was going to jump out of her seat. "So,” I started. Kyla stood up abruptly and grabbed me by the face, smashing her plush lips to mine. I naturally grabbed her by the waist as we started making out right there in the middle of the RV. She'd been wearing that bulky coverall the entire day and now she started to scramble to try and get it unzipped and off at the same time as trying to get me to get my shirt off, which just turned into an awkward mess of her hands moving back and forth between us. "Stop, stop," I murmured, pulling my lips from hers. She actually whined a little in her throat and then blinked in surprise at her own reaction. I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her back towards the bed. Like this, she was taller than me and she bent down to kiss me some more, making it hard for me to navigate. Thankfully it was a straight shot, and there wasn't a lip at the door to the bedroom area that I needed to duck under or step over. I found the bed with my shin and stopped and lowered her down onto it so we lay somewhere in the middle, me on top of her as we kept making out. Once we were done I pulled away and tugged off my shirt. "Fuck," she groaned, looking at me hungrily. "Not what you're used to?" I asked. She shook her head. "No, so much better." She raised her hands to my stomach and up to my chest, letting her fingers play through my chest hair. I couldn't help myself and I reached down and unzipped the coverall down to her belly button. Underneath, all she had on was a set of black bra and panties. On the one hand, I was starting to get mesmerized by her body very quickly, but on the other, I remembered in the back of my mind that she hadn't arrived with any luggage. I lifted her from under her arms and she let me help her pull the coveralls off, then raised her ass so I could pull them from her legs as well. I crashed back down onto her, now feeling her smooth skin on mine. Her body was everything I would have expected from a dancer; smooth and sleek all over, with toned muscling and a sort of feline grace as she moved around. "Where; are; your clothes; and things?" I asked between kisses. "They said; they would bring; them up; from Cali,” she replied. Then she stopped the kissing and looked up at me. "Seriously, I've got this fucking craving for your cock right now like I can't believe, Harri. I need you to fuck me so fucking bad." "Okay," I said, and then kissed her again as I reached under her to unsnap her bra. When she realized what I wanted she didn't even bother with the snap, she just yanked the black cups off her tits and the whole thing over her head. Her tits were a perfect size for my big hands to palm, a bit bigger than Ivy's but much smaller than Erica's, and her dark brown areolas were smooth and a little puffy, with two perfect nubs for nipples. I sucked on one, feeling how hard they were, but she was stretching to try and get my shorts off of me. She needed the imprinting. We could always explore each other more in the future. I leaned away from her, one hand still on her tit and holding her down, as I shoved down my shorts and boxers. For her part, she pushed her panties down to her knees and I pulled them the rest of the way off. Her cunt was a gorgeous brown, flushed darker than the skin above and slick with her chemically-induced horniness. Even her clit hood was a little pulled back, the softer pink of her clit just visible from being swollen. She was entirely bare, and I wondered if that was a personal choice or a seduction tactic she'd been told to follow. Not that I cared at the moment. I wanted to eat her out and taste her. I wanted to make this last, to wow her like Erica had said. Fuck, let's be real, I wanted to impress the seductive honey trap spy with my sex skills. "Fuck my brains out," Kyla demanded. "Fuck me until I can only ever think of you. Take me and make me yours, you fucking massive wall of American god." I could impress her later. Her cunt accepted my cock like a perfectly tailored suit. I slid in, and even though she was tight and her muscles were firm as hell as they clenched at me she was also extremely willing. That changed when I was almost all the way in though, but not from want of trying. Kyla came, her entire body rolling and arching as her cunt clenched down enough to almost start forcing my cock out. She grabbed me around the shoulder and hugged herself up, clinging to me, and her hips roiled as she thrust hard up and down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips curled in an ugly snarl for a long moment, until the orgasm passed and she let go of me, falling a couple of inches back to the bed with a 'whumph.' "H-Holy fuck," she panted, looking up at me in confusion. "What was that? That,” She blinked rapidly. "Did no one tell you about the first orgasm?" I asked her. She shook her head, still blinking like she was trying to gain her focus. "Fuck me and tell me," she said. I started to slow-thrust, enjoying the delicious warmth of her as I leaned down a bit more, pressing my full body against hers as she spread her legs wider for me. "They told Erica in the information session that she should expect a massive orgasm the first time she ingested a man's precum, and the biggest one of her life when they ingest their actual cum." "She got an information session?" Kyla panted, looking slightly alarmed. "You didn't?" I asked, equally alarmed. We'd both stopped thrusting at each other, not sure what to do. "Fuck it, fucking fuck me," she said and rolled her body to get my cock deeper inside her again. I wasn't going to argue with that. We fucked like that, mutually, for a bit and then I took some more control and went up high on my hands for better leverage and started to fuck her harder. Kyla moaned and panted beneath me, then raised her lips up and sucked on one of my nipples, which was an oddly pleasurable surprise, and then she took some of my hairy pec muscle between her teeth and bit me lightly as she came again. "Ow," I said when she dropped back to the bed again. "Sorry," she panted. "I just; you're really fucking good." Huh, maybe I can impress the spy, I thought. "I'm getting closer," I told her. I'd had... well, not the most amount of sex I'd had in a day, but a bunch, so I wasn't entirely surprised I was lasting as long as I was. "Do you want to try something else?" "I want to try everything with you," she gasped and kissed me. "But... let me..." I disengaged with her, which made her moan like a whore, and she scrambled around on the bed until she was at the bottom corner on her back. Then she spread her legs wide into a full split, and then even wider until she had one leg practically parallel with her torso and the other was way out to the other side. If she was a clock, she would have been showing 10 o'clock. "Fuck me hard. Use my hole," she said, licking her lips. "Get your cock back inside; yes! Oh, fuck, Harrison. Make my cunt fucking squirm. Make your cunt squirm. It's yours now. I'm yours. My whole body. Fuck! I've never felt it like this before. I've never felt anything like this." I was crushing down into her in big, hard strokes and I could feel her cunt squishing with her juices and my balls slapping against her ass cheeks. I was hovering over her and a bead of sweat had trailed down to the end of my nose. Kyla opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, licking it off of me. I lowered the rest of the way to her and kissed her hard, then hugged her tightly as I started pumping short and quick, barely leaving her cunt. "I can't wait to fall in love with you," I whispered to her. "I can't wait to make babies with you, and start a family." "Do it," she gasped. "Put a baby in me. Make my womb yours forever. Breed me, make me your breeding wife-whore. Love me, may-ari. Oh, fucking; that's what you are, you beautiful big bastard. You're my may-ari. My owner. I choose you. I choose; I,” I couldn't have stopped from coming in her if my life depended on it. She was pushing towards her own orgasm already, and her years of dance and other physical activity had turned her core into a vice that sucked at my cock like a hoover. I came as she lost her grip on her words, chanting about choosing me. She came as well, a scream quenched in her throat as her entire body flexed and tensed. I filled her up, releasing over and over in her, but I finished before she did and just went right back to fucking her since my cock hadn't gone soft yet and she was still coming. I only stopped when she went slack, her legs falling back to a more natural position, and her face went from that clenched teeth-gritting tension to a soft, satisfied smile. "Imprinting. Imprinting. Imprinting." I pulled away from her slowly, making sure she wasn't going to fall from the bed, and found that the entire bottom corner and the edge of the mattress were wet and sticky with juices. Along with my legs, crotch and hips. "Great, another squirter," I sighed. Not that I actually minded, but it just meant we'd be doing even more laundry in the tiny machine the RV held. I stood and, once I felt like I could be coordinated enough, I picked Kyla up in a cradle and lifted her higher on the bed and tucked her in. She was in the fetal position, still mumbling the imprinting sequence with that smile. I had to grab a new pair of shorts since mine had ended up in the splash zone, and I didn't bother putting on a shirt but did wipe myself down with some wet paper towel. Stumbling out of the RV, I was greeted by catcalls and applause. Looking around, the fire was still going and someone had stocked it higher with wood. Erica, Dani and Vanessa were all sitting in the Adirondack chairs, and Ivy was sitting curled up in Erica's lap. "Where are Leo and the girls?" I asked, trying my best not to let them show the embarrassment I knew they were going for with their teasing. "Aria and India were going to fuck, and invited Leo to watch," Dani smirked. "So I assume he's in there either jerking off, or fucking." "I don't need to picture that," Erica rolled her eyes. I stepped over and kissed Vanessa as she leaned her head back and reached up to hug me around the neck. Then I slipped around the circle to Ivy and Erica and kissed both of them. Dani opened her arms to me as well, so I hugged her and she kissed my cheek. "Congrats," she said as I pulled away. "Pops." "Oh, God," I groaned and looked at Erica. "You told them?" "Was I supposed to keep it a secret?" she countered. "I needed to talk it out with someone." Vanessa had stood from her chair and gestured for me to take her seat and went inside the RV, coming back out with some more beers. She passed them around and then sat on my lap similar to the way Ivy was with Erica. We sat that way for a while talking as the night sky played out above us. I'd always loved looking up at the sky out on the property, away from any major sources of light pollution. Now spotlights were lighting up the construction area a hundred yards away, where men and women were working through the night. The view was dimmed, and I wondered if it would ever be as clear again as it had been a month ago. Dani slipped off to bed first, and Vanessa grumbled that she had to be up in the morning for work so the rest of us went quickly. We never had discussed the sleeping arrangements, so I ended up sleeping next to Kyla, with Erica pressing her back to my side and holding my arm under her and around her stomach, with Vanessa spooning up to her and Ivy on the end on her back, snuggled partially under Vanessa. I knocked on the door and set the two big brown paper bags down on the stoop and backed away. The house wasn't 'old' per se, located in a neighborhood that had been developed almost twenty-five years ago, and hadn't been updated since it was first built. To be fair, there hadn't ever exactly been a housing boom in the area, so other than the one-off builds it was probably one of the newest places around. The inner front door opened and Mary looked out cautiously, then in surprise as she saw me. She hadn't texted me like I'd asked her to, and it had almost been a week since I'd seen her in the parking lot at the grocery store. She looked a little better, though not by much, and I wondered how far she'd been able to stretch that $70 I'd been able to give her then. "Harri?" she asked in surprise. "Hey, Mary," I said with a little wave. "How did you; Is this;?" "It wasn't that hard, Mary," I said. "I just made a couple of calls. You never texted me." "I know, I,” she hesitated, and then hung her head. "I was so embarrassed." "You don't need to be," I told her. "You're in a tough spot, and I'm not. I want to help out." "Mom? Who's at the door?" came a little voice from inside. A boy poked his head around Mary's hip, looking cute and curious. "It's an old friend of Mommies," Mary said. "He's just here to say hello." "Hey there buddy," I said, smiling as I pulled my mask down and waved, then let the mask snap back up and played like it had rocked me. The kid giggled. "My name is Harrison, but everyone calls me Harri on account of my big beard and hair." "That's a funny name," the kid said. "If you got rid of your beard, what would they call you?" "Hmm, that's a good question!" I said. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask your Mom, she knew me when I didn't have a beard." "We still called him Harri, baby," Mary said, smiling down at the boy and running her fingers through his hair. The kid had keen eyes and noticed the bags on the stoop and the food inside. "Is that for us?" "It is, kiddo," I said. "Could you help your Mom get it inside?" "Sure!" he said. Mary sighed and opened the screen door for him, and the kid came out in his socks and hefted up one of the bags and started carrying it in. "Harri, you don't need to,” "I made sure there are some snacks for the kids in there," I said, pretending like she hadn't been talking. "I know they aren't nutritious, but I figured you can bribe some good behavior for some Oreos and stuff every once in a while. There's also a bottle of merlot in that other one there, so you may not want the kiddo to lift it. He's a cute kid, by the way. I've got an order in down at the butcher's that I'm supposed to pick up tomorrow, so I'll be by sometime tomorrow afternoon with some meat for you guys too. Maybe I can meet your little girl then? Charlie, right?" Mary looked like she was about to cry, and I didn't want to push her over the edge so I tried to make it all like it wasn't a big deal. "Alright, Mary. See you tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything specific and I'll see what I can do, alright? Tell the kiddo not to eat all the gummy worms at once." I was halfway down the driveway to my truck when the screen door opened again. "Harri," Mary called. I looked back and she was standing on the porch, looking at me with tears brimming in her eyes and a happy frown on her face. From this distance, without a mask, I could still see her as the little button-nosed cheerleader I'd known. "Thank you." I just winked and waved, heading back to my truck. "That was really kind of you," Kyla said as I got in. "It's nothing," I said. "I knew her in high school and her husband's been missing for a while." Kyla took one of my hands from the steering wheel and wrapped her fingers in mine, looking at it. The casual intimacy was still new; the first couple days after her imprinting had been us feeling each other out, and her getting comfortable with the general openness to sex that was our new life. I'd made it a point to spend time with her, both sexually and non-sexually, each day and we were slowly starting to find a soft groove. "That's still kindness, Harri," she said. "You're sure she needs it? I don't want to see you getting taken advantage of." "I'm sure," I said. "Okay," Kyla nodded. "Then we'll help her. Now, let's continue this tour. I want to know everything I can about this little podunk, backwoods town I've been shipped off to." "Well, the first thing you should know is that I'm pretty sure it isn't big enough to be considered a town. Maybe a village?" "Oh, God," she laughed. "Not if you consider all the construction workers moving in." "True. I bet we're close to half-againing the local population at this point. Vanessa said we'll hit a thousand by the end of the week." "With that many," Kyla said. "We should have our house in, what, a few months?" "No idea," I said. "No fucking idea." "Fuck, it's already June," I groaned. It was hot as balls and I was regretting putting on my 'go out into the world' getup. "How did you miss the 1st?" Erica asked, also done up in her gear. "How did we miss Memorial Day?" I countered. "Oh, shit," Leo said, standing up from where he'd been sitting over near his RV. "You're right, we did miss Memorial Day. Should we do something?" "Like what?" I asked. "We could throw a party," Ivy suggested. "We could all dress up fancy and have a dance?" The surveyors had been needing Leo and me less and less lately and I was starting to get a little twitchy with how little I had to do. Quarantine before all of this really kicked off had been one thing, but now we didn't even have our big wide backyard to ourselves. When Erica had mentioned that she wanted to take a drive into Portland to pick up some things from the tattoo parlor and check her apartment I'd jumped on the chance and we'd made the plan. The girls were already starting to excitedly talk about planning our late Memorial Day celebration as I stretched and sighed, checking my watch. We'd been planning to leave right after lunch and it was already 3pm. Vanessa had taken an extended break since she'd worked late the night before and we'd had some one-on-one fun in the RV, which had been sorely needed for her. Where the rest of us were struggling to find things to keep busy and motivated, the last week had seen more and more responsibility and work landing in Vanessa's lap as the construction crews started to show up and move into the barracks. It meant there was an entirely new crew of cleaners, maintenance workers and delivery people under her supervision along with her 'gorillas.' Not to mention her wrangling of the other foremen and administrators on-site as her father handled the top-end details of the job. Every day it seemed like new equipment and supplies were being delivered and a third barracks was quickly being erected as even more hands were around. But an hour with Vanessa had delayed us, and when I was finally ready to go Dani was busy with Leo over at their place, and since she was coming with us Erica and I had to wait. Then Erica and Kyla were ensconced in a private conversation in our RV when Dani emerged ready to go, so we lost another half hour before the three of us were all finally dressed and prepped to leave. "Okay," I said loudly, trying to cut through the multiple party-related conversations. "We're all agreed we'll do a Memorial Day thing, but we're burning daylight. Erica and Dani, let's go." We took my truck, only needing one vehicle since we weren't hauling a ton of stuff like the last time. As we pulled around the site offices I spotted Vanessa walking with one of the other foremen in conversation and gave her a little double honk. She smiled and waved. Driving down the old driveway path there were now a half dozen wide offshoots winding off into the trees and closer to the highway there were big swathes of ground that had been cleared and were starting to get flattened by scrapers and excavators. Vanessa had mentioned that we'd end up with a couple of strip malls worth of stores to help provide for the eventual community; a convenience store, a clinic, a dentist, that sort of thing. Right at the end of the driveway a guard hut had been erected, little more than a fancy roadside fruit stall that could barely fit two people inside. I pulled up next to it and Erica rolled down the window. "Hey Patrick," I said, waving to the construction worker manning the booth and tracking the ins and outs. "Hey folks," the older guy said with a grin. He was supposed to be on the road crews but had arrived earlier than needed. I'd asked him once if standing in the guard booth all day working a clipboard was boring and he assured me that after three decades manning a 'Slow/Stop' sign in the middle of roads through sun, rain and sleet, the booth and the clipboard were welcome. "We'll be out for a few hours," I said. "Sounds good," he replied and made a note on his clipboard. Then he wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat, blinking. "Y'all didn't say anything about how bad the pollen got up here. I think my allergies are kicking up and I didn't bring any of my meds, I thought the North West was supposed to be wet." "It usually is. We'll pick you something up," Erica offered. "We need to stop at a pharmacy anyways." "We do?" I asked. "We do," Erica said, patting me on the knee. "Hah," Patrick laughed. "And here I thought you was some sort of Big Dog, Harri. But you're as whipped by your women as the rest of us." "See you in a bit, Patrick," I said. He waved us off, then covered his mouth to cough a little. "Poor guy," Dani said. "I'd hate if I had allergies like that." "We'll get him fixed up," I said as I pulled onto the highway and started heading in the direction of Portland. "It's been weirdly dry and hot so I'm betting the dust from the brush cutting is doing it to him." And I didn't think anything more of it. Erica unlocked the metal grate that pulled down over the front of the tattoo parlor and lifted it up on the rollers enough to uncover the door. The good news was that the whole thing with the 'Autonomous Zone' seemed to have burned itself out and Portland was no longer hosting big protests at the moment. The bad news was that only happened after a week of riots and several news-worthy moments of violence and vandalism. Thankfully the parlor wasn't on one of the major routes the riots had travelled down and there didn't seem to be any damage other than sprayed graffiti on the grate and some of the glass windows behind it. I'd pulled my truck right up over the curb and parked us as close as possible. The streets were as empty of people moving around as the last time we'd come into the city, except there was more trash. I'd seen old newsreels of when there had been major strikes in New York City back in the early 80s and it wasn't exactly that bad, but another couple of weeks and it might get there. Someone must have been doing collections, they were just overburdened or understaffed or something. I had to nudge a pile out of the way with the front of my truck to wedge into the open space, but it almost immediately proved worth it as a trio of ambulances came burning down the street with their lights running. If I'd parked on the street one of them would have needed to swerve out of the way and who knew if those extra seconds would be the difference between life or death for someone; not to mention the potential of the ambulance not swerving fast enough and clipping my truck. Inside the tattoo parlor Erica went straight to her bay and started unhooking and gathering her equipment. Dani was looking around at the place, grinning as she examined the wild decor. She would call out questions to Erica, who would tell her who had done what mural, or the brief story behind the broken surfboard hanging from the ceiling and the skateboard deck covered in almost a hundred different signatures. I spotted a photo on the wall and realized it was of Erica and all of her staff at the most recent DragonCon where they had put up a booth and done live tattooing. Erica had said beforehand she thought it might be a waste of time, but the owner of the parlor was a huge nerd and wanted to do it so it was her job to organize. I never had found out how it went, but she looked happy in the photo. I grabbed the frame from the wall and brought it over to her. "Do you want to bring this, too?" I asked. She glanced at it and paused her work, then smiled and hugged me. "That's sweet, Harri. Yes, absolutely." She took the frame and put it in one of the boxes we'd brought for her to carry stuff, then turned to me. "Hey, could you just empty all those drawers there into the boxes? Don't just dump them, but there isn't anything particularly fragile. It's mostly inks and cleaner solutions and stuff." "Sure," I said. "Thanks, babe," she said and kissed my cheek. "Dani and I are just going to slip through to next door." "Oh, God," I groaned. I hadn't realized that was her plan. "Don't worry," she grinned. "It'll all be fun for you, I promise." The owner of the tattoo parlor also owned the sex shop next door and had installed a door between the two since the clientele crossed over fairly consistently. Erica led Dani through the door, opening it with her key, and I could hear them laughing and giggling. By the time I was done with the drawers Erica had pointed out, placing what seemed like hundreds of little vials and bottles of inks and other liquids into the boxes along with some other art supplies, they hadn't come back. I went to the door and opened it, looking in. Erica glanced over, grinning as she held another box and Dani was placing something inside. "You want any porn, babe?" "What do I need porn for?" I asked. "I dunno," she said. "Variety?" "Ooh, this one is called 'Big Black Booties 15,'" Dani said, grabbing a DVD from a nearby shelf and waving it at me. "You don't have that kind of variety yet, Harri." I snorted and shook my head. "I'm perfectly happy with the booties at my disposal, thank you." Dani shrugged and put the DVD in the box. "I'll see if Leo wants it." "Gag!" Erica laughed, making them both start giggling. I had a feeling that was a running joke between them. "How are we paying for this stuff?" I asked. "Everything is turned off and we don't have any cash." "Artie told me I could Venmo him at a 75% discount," Erica said. "Plus anything with an expiry date I could have for free. So we've got a lot of lube now, along with a bunch of penis-shaped candy and some candy underwear." I sighed and shook my head. "Oh my God, we should take her with us," Dani said, pointing up on a high shelf where a creepily lifelike sex doll was sitting. "I think you mean rescue her," Erica said. "Harri, help me get her down." "Really?" I asked. "Yes," they both demanded. When we packed up the truck we had two boxes of Erica's tattoo gear and other possessions from the shop, another full box of Sex Shop stuff, and Dani was sitting in the back next to 'Sexy Susan' who had also happened to get dressed in a sexy nurse costume. They thought it was fucking hilarious, I just thought 'Sexy Susan' was a little creepy. Dani stayed down in the truck, taking the front seat as I pointed out that the 1911 was in its case under the passenger seat if she needed it, while Erica and I headed up to her apartment. The elevator had an 'out of order' sign on it, and Erica had to use her key to the building to get into the stairwell which she said she'd never had to do before. That was an immediate red flag to me, but I kept my cool to try and not worry her. "You know," Erica said as we climbed the stairs. All our sex cardio seemed to be paying off because we weren't puffing from the exertion yet. "You haven't officially asked me to move in yet." "What?' I asked. "Leo and I,” "That wasn't asking me to move in permanently," Erica cut me off. "That was just for quarantine." I rolled my eyes, knowing where she was going with this. At the next floor I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to me, pulling down my mask and hers and kissing her hard and deep. "Erica Lacosta, will you move in with me forever and ever?" I asked her. "Yes," she grinned. "Yes, I will." She kissed me lightly to seal it, then sighed and we raised our masks and started climbing more stairs. "With that out of the way, I should really try and find a way out of my lease. Just because you have money doesn't mean I should be wasting mine on a place I'm not ever planning on moving back into." "I'll help with some research," I said. "I know there's all the clamor about halting eviction notices, but maybe there's something that will help. I could text Miriam, see if Captain Bloomberg knows anything offhand." "Hmm, maybe,” Erica started, but stopped as we reached her floor and found that door locked as well. "What the fuck?" she sighed and unlocked it. "Let me go first," I said. "Why? It's just..." As we entered the corridor Erica trailed off, seeing the tracks of dirty footprints in the hall and the spray paint on the walls. She immediately started to move forward, but I grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Wait," I said. "Look." I pointed at the big circles on the walls next to each door, but she clearly didn't understand what I was pointing out. "Those are FEMA search and rescue marks." Erica blinked once and was obviously unsure of what to say. "Let's just take it slow," I said. We walked down the hallway. Some of the doors were shut, but others looked like they'd been kicked in. "What do they mean?" Erica asked me, looking at the circles and the scribbles of letters and numbers on the walls. Each circle had an X dividing it into four parts, and each quadrant was marked. "The top part is the date the location was searched," I said. "5-24 means it happened May 24th, so a little over a week and a half ago. The left side is who did the search, the numbers are probably a military code for a National Guard unit. If it said PPD that would be the Portland police, or CDC or DEA or whoever. The right side is if there are any hazards." I pointed to one of the doors that were kicked in. "NE means 'No Entry.'" Then I pointed to another. "F/W means there's contaminated food and water." I pointed at another door, this one wasn't kicked in. "A 0 means no hazards. "What are the bottom parts?" Erica asked. I frowned and swallowed. "The crossed 0 means no one found. DB or DOA means dead bodies. LB means live people are, or were, inside." Erica looked at the carnage of the corridor, her eyes scanning the doors of her neighbors as she weighed the number of DBs. There weren't many 0s, but about half of the apartments were labelled LB and hadn't been kicked open. Half. We got to Erica's place around the hall corner, passing the old lady Diane's door. It was kicked in and labelled NE, DB. Erica poked the door with her boot and it swung in. Inside, other than the dirty boot prints, it looked generally neat and tidy... other than the pool of dark something that had dried on the kitchen linoleum. I grabbed Erica and held her as she gasped and her knees went weak. I pulled her away from the door and she saw that her own apartment had also been kicked in, but was labelled 0 hazards and 0 bodies. We went in and she sat down on the couch, burying her head in her hands. Kneeling in front of her, I cradled her head on my shoulder and hugged her tightly as the reality of the world settled on her. She cried, though not as long as she probably needed, as I talked her through what had probably happened. Enough people had gotten sick and called emergency services that they came to do a sweep of the building. They knocked on every door, and anywhere someone didn't answer they kicked it in. Then I assumed they had extracted the bodies. "I need to get out of here," Erica breathed. "Okay," I said. "Do you need me to grab anything? Did we forget anything last time?" "No, nothing," she shook her head. "Just get me out of here." I picked her up and carried her out. Erica wasn't Ivy or Vanessa, or even Kyla. She was a full-figured woman. But I carried her every fucking step, down every stair. She stopped me right at the doors to the building and had me let her down. "I don't want Dani to see me like this," she said. "Why?" I asked. "She would understand." "I know," she said, blinking under her ski goggles. "But if she sees me like this, she'll start thinking about what might be happening back home for her, and she doesn't need that." I held Erica's hand at the door for another minute as she breathed deeply and got control of herself, and finally she smiled at me and it actually travelled up to her eyes. "Thanks, babe," she said. "Love you," I said. "You too," she said and touched her forehead to mine since we were both masked and goggled. "Hey, Charlie," I grinned, waving to the little four-year-old as she sprawled in Mary's arms and waved back with her little grin. "Hi," she chirped. "Okay," Mary said, setting her daughter down. "Scoot, you. Let Mommy talk with Harri for a second. Go see what your brother is doing." "Okay," Charlie said and pounded off in the way only a four-year-old could. "You're looking more like yourself, Mary," I said. I was standing off the porch and we kept the screen door closed, but I had my mask lowered so she could see my face. She smiled softly and shrugged. "I don't feel like it, but thanks." "How are the kids doing?" I asked. "Well, I regret letting them eat sugar again," she smirked a little. "But they're good. Better than me, anyways, though Thomas misses his friends from school and keeps asking when he can go back to class." She laughed and wiped under one eye. "He used to hate going to school every morning, now it's all he wants to do." "We'll get there eventually," I assured her. "What about you? How are you doing?"

Travel transforms us in ways we rarely anticipate. When we step outside our comfort zones, something remarkable happens – not just philosophically, but neurologically. The brain forms new pathways, rewiring itself in real-time as we navigate unfamiliar territory.My journey with travel's healing power began unexpectedly in 1996 when I traveled to Jamaica just eight weeks after losing my mother to breast cancer. We had been extraordinarily close – best friends, creative confidants – and her two-year battle had consumed my life. Though the timing seemed questionable, this trip provided precisely what my grieving process needed most: space.Back home, I was surrounded by familiar places and people that held countless memories of my mother. These comforts, while necessary, made it nearly impossible to process my grief fully or envision life without her. Jamaica's unfamiliar environment – driving on the opposite side of the road, witnessing different living conditions, experiencing vibrant local culture – forced my brain into new patterns. During an evening service at the dance conference where I was teaching, everything broke open. Kneeling on a hard linoleum floor thousands of miles from home, I finally released the anger and disappointment I'd been harboring. I emptied myself completely and felt a divine reassurance that joy would return to my life.The science explains why: new experiences activate the brain's reward system, boosting dopamine – the motivation chemical depleted during depression. The Jamaican sunshine certainly helped! Additionally, navigating new challenges activated my prefrontal cortex, helping me consider future possibilities I'd previously been unable to envision. When I returned home, though grief didn't disappear, something had fundamentally shifted. I had a renewed sense of purpose and clarity about moving forward while carrying my mother's memory.This experience shaped my understanding of travel's healing potential – something I now help others discover through intentional travel coaching. Whether you're navigating grief, transition, or seeking transformation, travel offers unique tools for healing unavailable in familiar environments. Ready to discover how travel can transform your life during challenging seasons? Visit my website and book a free consultation to begin your journey.Support the showhttps://www.cherylbeckesch.com Instagram @solotraveladventures50Facebook community: Solo Travel for Women Over 50 https://www.facebook.com/groups/860865768609200

Friendship With God “Kneeling Love” John 13:1-17   Download the Sermon and Conversation Guide | https://bit.ly/44CkJjC    -- REACH Resources Visit the REACH webpage | https://www.fcchudson.com/reach    -- GET CONNECTED! https://www.fcchudson.com and click Next Steps!   --- Stay connected! Website: https://www.fcchudson.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fcchudson Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/fcchudson YouTube: https://bit.ly/3twyuMN Podcast: https://apple.co/4gmb4C0    #fcchudson #churchonline Take your next step with us! https://bit.ly/3IJv7f1

You can start late as long as you start! It was aliens man... aliens.  Join us every other Friday for another exhilarating episode of Late Starters! The Late Starters have launched a Patreon to help with the journey in front of them! If you would like to be a supporter head here to help out! Catch ya later! Get merch, subscribe to Youtube and follow us on twitter to stay up to date with every thing Late Starters! You can find everything we do at linktr.ee/LateStarters! #pokemon #ttrpg #roleplay #improv  Cast GM - Austin (@SeezyDrop) Calynn - Alex (@Alexandbirds) Ford - Tim (@Remobware) Victor - Kaycie (@Kayciedoom) Pokedex - Jenna (@JennaChil)   Music Some of the music used in this production belongs to ©2022 Pokémon. ©1995-2022 Nintendo/Creatures Inc./GAME FREAK inc. The following music was used for this media project: Embrace The Wind by WinnieTheMoog Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/6685-embrace-the-wind License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license  Artist website: https://linktr.ee/taigasoundprod Open Those Bright Eyes by Kevin MacLeod Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/4171-open-those-bright-eyes  License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license  Artist website: https://incompetech.com Scheming Weasel [Metal Version] (feat. Kevin MacLeod) by Alexander Nakarada  Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/8163-scheming-weasel-metal-version-feat-kevin-macleod  License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license Arcane Anthems Patreon Ivan Duch and Pokemon "Moonstone" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ "Mining by Moonlight" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Sound Effects Car Crash (with Glass) by magnuswaker -- https://freesound.org/s/592388/ -- License: Creative Commons 0 Dog Sniff.mp3 by binxa -- https://freesound.org/s/595826/ -- License: Creative Commons 0 groan.mp3 by Kneeling -- https://freesound.org/s/473525/ -- License: Creative Commons 0 CREAMnstr_Forest Giant.Walk Through The Forest.With Growls And Swishes_EM.wav by newlocknew -- https://freesound.org/s/628248/ -- License: Attribution NonCommercial 4.0 Flash and a Bang by mondofred -- https://freesound.org/s/416385/ -- License: Attribution 4.0

Today's story is found in Mark 2:1–12 "Jesus heals a paralysed man"                               ________________________________________________ Picking his way carefully across the roof, Caleb stopped where he thought the middle of the house would be. Kneeling down, he began to pull at the tiles of the roof, trying to lift them off. Dirt caked under his fingernails as he dug, and the midday sun was hot against his back. His arm was getting really sore, but he forced himself to keep going, knowing Asher was down below, just waiting for his chance to see…  POP!  A tile lifted up, and Caleb was so surprised it took him a moment to register his thoughts. It worked! He thought to himself gleefully, as he pulled the rest of the tile off the roof. Once the tile had been taken off, through the small square, he could see into the house.  Walking quickly but carefully back to the edge of the roof, Caleb waved his arms to get Levi and Hannah's attention..... What happened next? To find out, find a comfortable spot and listen to the episode. _________________________________________________________________________________ Story by: Maritza Brunt READ STORY ON THE BLOG VISIT OUR WEBSITE SHOP OUR BOOKS   Shop our audiobooks Special effect editing: James Wagner  music credit: http://www.purple-planet.com/  Email us: stories4gigi@gmail.com Write to us: GIGI KIDS STORIES PO BOX 6505 Upper Mt Gravatt Queensland Australia 4122

 Weekend Samplers: Part 1.Jack and Angie explore with friends at the campground.Based on posts by lckscknfck7, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Four-day weekends are always fun, but I rarely have the chance to take advantage of them. Fortunately, on one such weekend a few years ago, an older friend asked my 18 year old girlfriend and me to join him and his wife on a camping trip. It ended up being one of the wildest weekends of my life.My girlfriend, Angela (Angie, for short), had a reputation of being a bit of a slut before I met her, but I soon found out the reputation was undeserved. She didn't mind watching porn tapes, but when it came to acting out some of those scenes (anal, threesomes, toys), she said she wasn't interested. She preferred giving hand to giving head, and preferred giving head to fucking. I wasn't sure if that was because her previous boyfriends didn't know how to use the equipment they were given, or if she was just uptight about getting pregnant even though she was on the pill. When it came to sex, her options for positions could be counted on one hand.Although she lacked imagination during sex, she had a well-toned body that she managed to keep tan year-round. Angie looked a little bit like Jennifer Aniston in the face, but a little thinner in the body. She was blessed with long legs, small-but-perky tits, a beautiful ass, and a tight, attractive cunt. She could have been a runway model if she didn't have her heart set on being a veterinarian. Mine wasn't the only cock in her life. We both knew she'd had better looking boyfriends, but none of them bothered to get her off as well or as often. When it came to her receiving oral pleasure, though, she would find a way to let me get her off, no matter where we were. She may have been high maintenance, but I had the satisfaction of knowing I could get her off anytime, anywhere.My camping trip friends were a little different. I had just turned 18 when I first met them. At the time of this camping trip, I was a few months from my 21st birthday. They were both in their mid-thirties, but maintained a very youthful lifestyle.Ken was short, beefy, and masculine but a nice guy and usually funny. He reminded me of Ron Jeremy but with short hair and a much shorter pecker. His wife, Sarah, was a little shorter than Ken, natural, and pleasant to be around. As far as nice people to hang out with, I don't think I could have done better at the time.Sarah was a reasonably attractive woman. She looked a little bit like Dina Meyer with just a touch of baby fat and bigger tits. She had strawberry-blond hair, green eyes, and freckles across her nose and cheeks. She had a natural ‘playmate of the year' body. She also had a seductive and sultry nature that served her well when dealing with men, in general.Motherhood had been good to her, and she retained her full, round tits. Her waist was small, but widened to shapely hips, a beautiful ass and well-shaped legs. I teased her about how small her feet were, but I think she knew I thought they were pretty.She was shorter and had more curves than my Angie, but I thought she was still cute for her age. She wasn't a New York model, but she had what it took to turn heads in a good way. Sarah had had two teen kids (staying with their grandparents on this particular weekend), but her body bounced right back into shape. She worked out regularly, and rewarded herself (and the rest of us) by buying the skimpiest bikinis to wear while sunbathing. These were the days before Malibu Strings, but what she wore came pretty close. I asked Angie to buy similar "bathing suits" as all she had ever worn in the past were the standard bikinis. Sarah jokingly told me she'd see if she could help Angie (and me) out in that area.So we headed out of Savannah, to the Lake for a long Easter weekend. We'd been here last month with their kids.Their lot on the campground was very secluded, surrounded by trees, and only a quarter-mile from the lake where they kept their boat docked. It was still early in the season, and there were no other campers in our area. This was our 2nd time camping as a foursome.A normal weekend in the summer would have us take Ken's boat out on the lake, water ski all day with the kids, and have a nightly campfire. It wasn't unusual for Angie and Sarah to stay back at the campsite, where they could take their bikini tops off while tanning their back sides, but Sarah somehow managed to take it all off for that "all over tan" when she thought nobody else was around. Angie preferred the creamy white triangles of her tits, cunt, and above the crack of her ass.At the end of the evening, my girlfriend-at-the-time and I would go back to our tent for some quiet outdoor sex, and an envious Sarah and Ken would go back to their camper with their kids. Even though our tent was at least 40 feet from Ken's bedroom window, Ken would kid me the next morning, saying he could beat off 2 or 3 times for every orgasm I either had or gave to my girlfriend. If she were willing, I'd sometimes stand and have her blow me just outside the tent, knowing Ken was probably watching. What I didn't know was that sometimes Sarah was watching, too.Angie and I left Thursday afternoon and arrived at the campground just before sunset. Ken had already set up the campfire, and Sarah seemed to be enjoying the peace and quiet without the kids, as we pulled up. After the usual hugs and handshakes, Sarah and Angie quickly unpacked the car while I worked on setting up the tent. Something was a little different about Sarah, though. I don't know if it was the fact that her hair was a little longer, she looked a little thinner, or if she was wearing her clothing in a more revealing manner, but something about her kept catching my eye.The girls went in the camper to start preparing a late dinner. Ken handed me a beer and directed me to the campfire. When he thought we were far enough away from the camper, Ken decided it was time to get something off his chest. We've had personal conversations before, but it was usually me doing most of the talking, especially after a few beers. Ken knew about almost every girl I had ever been with; every position, good lays and bad. I figured I was in for a shock when it was going to be him doing most of the talking, and I was right.He told me his sex life was lacking, recently, and felt like he couldn't make Sarah happy anymore. I asked him if he talked to her about it, and he said she could only get off if she fantasized about someone else. I told him that was Okay, and that he shouldn't let that bother him. As long as they were still having sex, he should be happy and let things take their course.Then he said that a few weeks ago he overheard Angie telling his wife about how well I could get her off, and how since then, Sarah moaned ‘Jack' more than once in her sleep. I could feel my cock throb just at the thought of his wife dreaming about me. It was a strange feeling. At first I thought he was jealous, suspecting that I had been screwing his wife behind his back. (I hadn't). I was surprised to hear that Angie had even had a conversation about sex with Sarah. Maybe Angie still had a naughty side, after all.I felt a little awkward, but I told him to go on. The more Ken talked, the more I realized that this weekend was all part of his desperate plan to show his wife a good time. “Jack, I really want you to sleep with my wife! Maybe Angie, too!” I listened as he went into detail of everything he fantasized about; thinking it was the same that Sarah fantasized about. He didn't want me and/or Angie to fuck her just once, either.Ken finally pleaded; “I'm afraid that the only way for Sarah and I to be happy again was to have someone else join us.” I had told Ken about many of my raucous sexual adventures, and now he wanted Sarah to have the same experiences. Thinking he was probably just a little drunk, I told him; “We have all weekend and I'd like to sleep on it. We are good friends, and I don't want to ruin anything between you and Sarah. Angie is just a recent girlfriend that loves sex a lot, but Sarah is your wife.”The girls came out with the food, as if on cue. We grilled some of Ken's freshly caught Amber Jack,  and had a few more beers, and talked about the following day's options. All night, I found myself undressing busty Sarah with my eyes.We decided the weather looked good for taking the boat out for some early morning water skiing. We'd probably drop the girls off at our secluded campground to relax and enjoy the sun the rest of the afternoon. Us guys could then go around the lake to ‘fish', which was cover for checking out the other sunbathers, stop at the marina for more beer or food, and then head back to the campground. Sounded like a good plan.It had been a long day, followed by an interesting evening, and it was time to turn in. The water hook-up to the camper provided a never-ending supply of water. Unfortunately, it would be a few hours before it was warm enough for a shower. Ken and Sarah said they didn't mind the cold shower, but Angie and I agreed we would have to wait a few hours, or even until morning. We waived goodnight to Ken and Sarah as they closed the door to the camper.As soon as we got in our tent, I started to get a clue that Angie was on the prowl. She took off her clothes and pulled my face onto her cunt. Something had gotten her hot earlier, and she apparently needed relief. She had trimmed her pubic hair as short as it could be, and at first glance, her cunt looked practically shaved. It didn't look like that the last time I fucked her, so this must have been something special for the weekend. As I licked her to orgasm, I worked three fingers into her cunt, paying close attention to her G-spot. I was working on giving her another orgasm when she pulled my fingers out of her cunt and guided one of my fingers to her asshole. Our eyes were locked onto each other as I slid two fingers back in her cunt and the third carefully into her ass. She knew that I always wanted to try ass-play with her, but this was the first time she actually let me, no, provoked me; to put anything in her ass besides my tongue. I barely slid the first joint of my finger past her sphincter when she let out a yelp signaling another wave of orgasm. She slapped my dripping wet hand away from her crotch and rolled me onto my back. I still had most of my clothes on, but I'm sure she could feel the bulge in my shorts as she ground her ass onto my crotch. She leaned over and kissed me as deeply as I could be kissed. For a while I wasn't sure if this was the end of the evening's events or just the beginning.She pulled off my shorts and began what I thought was going to be the usual tug-job. She could see my disappointment, and quickly turned to inhale my growing cock. Her blowjobs in the past were rarely subtle, but she never sucked with as much enthusiasm as she was demonstrating now. She straddled my chest, facing toward my turgid pole, then bent down to impale her throat with my full shaft.I could feel her nose touching my balls as she deep-throated my cock for the first time. Obviously, she had been holding back. I tapped her on the shoulder to let her know I was about to cum (as she had asked me to do so many times before), but this time she ignored the tap and kept on sucking until my balls tightened up and I shot off in her mouth.I expected her to spit, complain, and spit again, but was surprised to feel her swallow my cum, then hold my softening head in her mouth, slowly swallowing the seeping jizz.  As my intense nerves relaxed, she increased her oral stimulations and begin coaxing another erection.Within seconds of attaining reasonable firmness, she turned around, impaling her beautiful cunt with my cock. She leaned over to kiss me as her ass bounced up and down behind her. The taste of my cum was still fresh on her lips.She was on the pill, so I wasn't completely concerned about coming inside her. Apparently, she wasn't either, which was also a first. It was only a matter of about five minutes of rhythmic riding before I realized I was ready to cum again, which was probably a good thing with all the noise Angie had been making. I expected her to hop off of me at the first sign of my orgasm, but instead she ground her pubic bone harder against mine, flattening her swollen clit against me. Within seconds of feeling the warm gush of cum inside her, her cunt tightened around my shaft, loosened for a second, and then tightened again. I could feel my cum drip from her cunt down to my balls and ass.We remained motionless for a few minutes, and then, in her formerly typical prudish fashion, she hopped off, got dressed, and ran into the camper for a quick shower, cold water or not. About fifteen minutes later, she was back in the tent wearing pajamas, and kissing me goodnight. She was asleep within seconds of her head touching the pillow.I put a towel around my waist and threw on a T-shirt. As I walked out of the tent, I could see Ken sitting by what was left of the campfire. He told me to have a seat, and handed me a beer.Ken's Proposal."I thought you went to bed." I asked."I did, but Sarah woke up while Angie was getting her rocks off for the third time,” Ken answered with a grin. "She started fingering her cunt so fast and so hard that by the time I realized what was happening, she was finished. She was nice enough to give me a hand job before falling asleep, though.""Well, that's good, right?" I asked.He shrugged his shoulders. He looked desperate. Ken knew that Sarah was hard-up, and he felt horrible that he couldn't rock her world as well as he did years ago. I figured it was just a phase they were going through, but it was affecting Ken's enjoyment, too. He almost felt guilty about Sarah not being satisfied by his efforts. Ken was hurting, maybe worse than his wife. He was being told he's not enough of a man to sexually satisfy his woman. It had to be crushing. Ken as desperate and sacrificing the last vestiges of his ego for the sake of his marriage.Ken pushed his idea again."You should fuck her tonight, Jack.” he said. "Fuck her face. Fuck her cunt. Hell, fuck her feet. I know you like them. She knows you like them.""And where are you going to be?" I asked."I'll wait right here, if you want. When you're done, take a shower and I'll know it's safe to go inside. I don't care. Just get in there!" he said. “If I have to share her with anyone, I need it to be you, my friend.”"What about Angie? What if she wakes up?" I asked."Fuck her, too. Or I'll fuck her; I don't care. She'll probably sleep right through it, after your fuck-session earlier,” he answered.My cock was almost erect and no longer concealed by the towel around my waist. Ken couldn't help but stare, and I thought he was a little concerned about me pushing too far into his wife's cunt. Little did I know? The thought of Ken offering his wife made my cock swell even larger. I couldn't hide it anymore. That busty woman was enough to make a priest leave his collar.I had no idea how this would work. I didn't even know if Sarah would go for it. What if she didn't?How would we act the rest of the weekend?What would I say to Angie if she found out?Did Ken want to fuck Angie?That would be interesting. Ken wasn't well endowed in length, but he had most guys beat in girth; including me. The thought of young Angie being fucked silly by a short stocky guy with a short fat cock amused me enough to make my cock spring up.I threw the towel over my shoulder, exposing my erect cock and shaved balls. Ken gave me a big grin and subconsciously put his hand down the front of his shorts. I walked toward the camper wearing nothing but a T-shirt, flip-flops, and a worried smile. I carefully opened the door so it wouldn't make any noise. The lights were all out except for the bathroom/shower light. This was an older camper, but it was a huge one. It had a master bedroom on one end, and two bunk beds on the other. In the middle, there was a kitchen/eating area and a small bathroom that housed a commode and shower. Ken had made a few modifications to the camper, and I was impressed every time I stepped into it.Sarah was asleep in the master bedroom. I decided to take a quick shower to wash the cum off my balls and ass crack and calm myself down. I hoped Ken would understand that this wasn't the "after I fucked Sarah" shower, and would stay outside. I didn't waste any time, and still had half an erection as I toweled myself dry.I came out of the little bathroom and turned out the light. I quietly stepped into the master bedroom and found Sarah asleep on her stomach, naked, and with one armed tucked under her. Her hand was between her legs and it looked like she had been fingering herself in her sleep.Jack and Sarah's not-so-private Tryst.I carefully got into bed with her, and slowly slid into position beside her, but a little lower. I put my hand on her leg and gently ran my fingers up and down, giving her goose bumps on her ass. At first she thought I was her husband and just moved over, and reached over to my hip.When she felt my pre-cum covered cock pressing against her, she was startled. Ken had a short, fat cock that curved up sharply making it look shorter than it probably really was. (I made that discovery when his shorts came off while waterskiing with a hard-on.) My cock was seven inches in length, thick as a cucumber, and stood straight out when erect. This definitely wasn't her husband's cock.She asked me; “ What do you think you are doing?” and drew the sheets up around her as she rolled on her back away from me. I thought I had ruined everything."Do you want me to leave?" I asked. I knelt up on the bed, making my cock bounce in front of me in the moonlight. She couldn't take her eyes off it."I don't know what I want, Jack.” she said. There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "But now that you're here, and you've crossed the line, I definitely don't want you to leave."She asked; “Did Ken put you up to this?”I said that Ken just wanted her to be happy; that he thought this might help.She asked; “What do you think would happen when I tell Angie that you fucked the shit out of me all night?” I knew she was playing with me and I told her; “You won't tell Angie anything with my cock in your mouth.”Sarah thought about it for a minute, and sat up, letting the sheets fall off her naturally large tits. My eyes were finally able to see in the darkness, and the moon was shining just enough to give me a great view of her incredible body. I leaned over to lightly kiss her, but she grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me hard on the mouth. Our tongues wound around each other like we were high school lovers. She reached down and grabbed the shaft of my cock while continuing to kiss my face, neck, and ears. She pushed me back down and kissed my chest, stomach, and legs. When she got to my feet, she put one toe at a time in her mouth and sucked and swirled her tongue around them. Then she rolled me onto my stomach and began kissing the back of my legs. She worked up my legs to my back, intentionally passing my ass, and then kissed me around my neck again. She lay on my back and worked her body between my legs, spreading them as she slid down my back with kisses along my spine.Clearly, she was living out her deeply held fantasy tryst with a man of her considerable desires.When she got to the crack of my ass, she spread my cheeks and began licking my crack lightly. I could feel her saliva dripping from her mouth as she began to concentrate on my asshole. She spread my cheeks further and pulled my ass up into the air, so that I was now kneeling, with my face still on the mattress, as her tongue found my sphincter again and again. Her fingers rubbed under my scrotum, working my prostate into high alert."Now, it's my turn" she said.I was seconds away from an incredible orgasm, but did as she asked. I kissed every inch of her body, in the exact order that she kissed mine, ending with her asshole. Her ass came up and her fingers found her clit while I tongued her anus. Within seconds, she was shuddering. She collapsed on her stomach, and then turned to give me a kiss goodnight."I'm not finished with you, yet, Sarah." I said. "Unless you really want to call it a night?" I asked."What else do you want to do? Aren't you exhausted, Jack?" she asked, almost whimpering. “I heard you rabbits fucking in the tent for nearly an hour.”"I know you've been talking to Angie, so you know I can fuck again and again." I said, kneeling again, straddles just over her waist with my bouncing cock tapping the cleavage of her tits. The tip was inches from her face.  "A friend asked me to fuck the shit out of his wife tonight, and that's what I'm going to do. We haven't fucked yet. Please tell me you aren't just a cock tease?”"Sarah looked like a girl on her birthday with a dozen presents left to open. She was glowing. She was now alive and wasn't sure where to begin. I helped her decide by holding the back of her head and gently pushing my cock in her mouth. She hadn't had to deal with a cock this long since her college days, and was a little out of practice. I let her gag a few times, then decided to give her a break and French-kissed her for a few minutes. While we kissed, I moved  down between her legs and pushed them apart and up so her feet were near her face. She guided my cock to her cunt and I easily slid inside her. I kissed her feet as she pulled me closer to her. Within minutes, she was clawing my thighs and muttering my name under her breath.I pulled out of her cunt and guided her legs back down. Kneeling, I got on top of her, and slid my cock between her tits. I knew I was only going to last a few more seconds, so I decided to give her tits a little attention before I came. As I moved forward, my knees pinned her arms down.“Drink it all, my buxom love bunny!” I said as I held her head back as I shot my full load in her mouth. Neither of us expected the amount of cum that I produced, but she winced and swallowed every drop like a college girl doing her first shot of tequila. Then she leaned in and captured the head of my cock in her lips. Her tongue went to work, polishing all the jizz off my glans.I carefully moved back down her body, kissing her forehead, nose, cheeks, and cum-covered lips. She ran her fingers through my hair as I kissed and sucked her nipples. I kissed her belly and worked my way down to her hairless cunt. I wasn't sure when she started waxing, but there were no bumps or razor burn.Just as I did to Angie

The missing ingredient for a strong center of spiritual resistance (against evil) is often awe/wonder. Jesus taught us how to live as children born again with fresh eyes of awe and wonder, but we often allow ourselves to "grow" out of this heart posture for the purposes of living in "reality." However, what we find is that this "reality" we create for ourselves, devoid of awe and wonder, leads to all manner of evil. What can we do to cultivate this heart posture in a world that seems bent on stripping us of it? Learn to stand and kneel at the same time. Join us today as we expolore what this looks like in a world obsessed with violence and survival. 

Sunday Morning Main Message June 29,2025.

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Read OnlineLifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying: “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.”  John 17:20–21Over the past couple of weeks, we have been continually reading from Chapter 14–17 of John's Gospel. These chapters contain Jesus' Last Supper Discourses and provide us with Jesus' last sermon, so to speak. Chapter 17, which we have been reading this past week, presents us with Jesus' final prayer for His disciples and for all of us “who will believe” in Him through the preaching of the disciples. Each time we read from Chapter 17, the Lectionary begins the reading with the phrase “Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying…” That line is an adaptation of Chapter 17:1 but is used to introduce the various parts of the prayer of Jesus each time it is read at Mass.It's interesting that Jesus would look up to Heaven when He prayed. Of course, Heaven is not physically in the sky, because Heaven is a spiritual reality. The Father is not located in some place in the sky but is omnipresent, meaning, present all places and all times. And yet, Jesus raises His eyes upward when He prays to the Father. There is a great lesson in this.Our physical disposition is important, at times. For example, when someone we owe respect to enters a room, we usually rise and greet them. It would be disrespectful to remain lounging on a bed or sofa in that case. And at Mass, we do not sit back with legs crossed during the Consecration; rather, we kneel in adoration. And when we greet someone for the first time, we do not look at the floor; rather, we look them in the eyes.Jesus' act of “Lifting his eyes to heaven” was not done because He thought He might see the Father in the sky; rather, it was done out of respect and love and as a way of acknowledging the dignity of the Father. This should teach us about our own bodily disposition and the message we communicate to others, especially to God in prayer.When you pray, what do you do? Though you can pray at any time and while in any disposition, it is an excellent practice to speak to God not only by your words but also by the disposition you take. Kneeling, raising hands in prayer, falling prostrate before your Lord, sitting upright with attentiveness, etc., are all ways in which you communicate to God your love.Reflect, today, upon this image of Jesus praying. Gaze at how attentive He would have been as He lifted His sacred eyes upward as a physical gesture honoring the glorious, all-powerful Father in Heaven. Try to imagine Jesus' devotion, intensity, respect and burning love. Imitate this holy gesture of prayer and attentiveness to the Father and remind yourself of the importance of expressing your love in bodily form.My most holy Father in Heaven, I do join Your Son, Jesus, in lifting my eyes, my heart and my whole life to You in honor, love and respect. May I always be attentive to You and always show You the devotion due Your greatness. My dear Jesus, thank You for Your love of the Father in Heaven. Give me the grace I need to imitate You and Your perfect love in my life. Jesus, I trust in You.  El Greco, Public domain, via Wikimedia CommonsSource of content: catholic-daily-reflections.comCopyright © 2025 My Catholic Life! Inc. All rights reserved. Used with permission via RSS feed.

In this episode of the Unresolved Life podcast, titled "The Beauty of Daily Conversations with God," host Teresa Blaes welcomes guest Valarie Rocha, the author of "Kneeling at the Throne." The episode focuses on the topic of prayer, exploring its significance and how it can enhance the relationship between individuals and God. Teresa begins the episode by introducing the theme of prayer, mentioning that it is often done casually or by rote, and invites Valarie to share her insights. Valarie explains that praying is essential because it connects people with God and emphasizes that everyone is encouraged to pray in the scriptures. The conversation shifts to discussing the importance of individual prayers. Valarie explains that prayer is an invitation to communicate with God, similar to conversing with a natural parent. She shares her personal journey with prayer, revealing her early passion for it and the calling she received to be an intercessor—a deeper form of prayer. Valarie recounts how she initially resisted the idea of being an intercessor but later realized that such a role would allow her to connect with God's heart. She highlights that prayer is not an extravagant or complicated practice; instead, it is an everyday conversation that strengthens one's relationship with God. Teresa then asks Valarie about hindrances that keep people away from praying. Valarie identifies common misconceptions, such as the feeling that God is distant or that certain topics are too sensitive to bring up in prayer. She reassures listeners that there are no topics off-limits with God and emphasizes His desire for intimacy and connection. The discussion moves toward the Lord's Prayer, with Valarie explaining how it provides a framework for approaching God with reverence, gratitude, and requests for guidance. She underscores the significance of respecting God's place and recognizing the importance of connecting with Him through prayer. As the conversation continues, Valarie discusses her favorite subject from her devotional, which frames God as the architect of our lives, constantly planning and designing our paths, and encourages believers to seek Him in prayer. She notes that building a relationship with God is about taking the time to engage in conversation with Him. The episode concludes with Valarie addressing listeners who may not know God or understand why they should pray. She urges them to take a step of faith, invite God into their hearts, and begin a relationship with Him, emphasizing that God welcomes everyone, regardless of their past. Teresa encourages listeners to spend time talking to God, assuring them that He can handle any situation they face. Valarie shares information about her online presence, where listeners can find more of her work. Teresa closes the episode by reiterating the importance of daily conversations with God, thanking Valarie for her insights, and reminding everyone that God is always there for them. Teresa's book: https://protectedbook.com Valarie's book: https://divine515.com

In this episode, I interview special guest, Valarie Rocha, a referral from Kadosh Media Productions. She is an author, prayer intercessor, and enjoys gardening, painting acrylics and cooking Mexican cuisine for her family. Her passion and pursuit in prayer has been her lifeline for decades. In our heartfelt conversation, Valarie shares her “Kneeling at the Throne” God story about her remarkable journey as a prayer intercessor that inspired her to write her life-changing newly released Prayer Devotional book! She also shares about her victorious spiritual warfare battles. In closing, she prays for those listening and watching the episode and Altered Stories Ministry. This episode includes a mental health tip from ministry partner and licensed mental health counselor, Sherrie Pucket.

On today's 5.6.25 show we talked about the best hangover cures, Graham tells us about how his event turned out yesterday, the thing that people in Sweden are putting on their tacos, Met Gala looks and controversies, CHP is cracking down on sideshow activities, the number one thing moms want for Mother's Day, women are having less children, lab-grown T. rex leather is a thing, people think Sydney Sweeney's Met Gala look was not on theme, robot tries to attack a human and more!

Sunday Service Daniel 6:1-28 Lead Pastor Tim Davis @ Christ The King Church. A non-denominational Christian Church located in Canby, OR. (www.ctkcanby.com)

Tonight's rundown: Hey BillOReilly.com Premium and Concierge Members, welcome to the No Spin News for Thursday, May 1, 2025. Stand Up for Your Country.  Talking Points Memo: Bill breaks down Wednesday night's Cuomo Town Hall on NewsNation. What is Kamala Harris talking about in her first speech since leaving office? Poll shows most 2024 voters would choose the same candidate again. The FBI has reassigned several agents who were photographed kneeling during Black Lives Matter protests in 2020.  After being dropped from the White House Correspondents' Dinner, anti-Trump comedian says she now feels "less welcome" in America. Final Thought: Don't miss Bill O'Reilly's special report 100 Days of Trump: Are You Better Off?, airing Friday, May 2 at 9/8c on NewsNation. Read Bill's latest column, Malaysia is Mad at Me Stand out from the crowd with our Not Woke baseball cap for just $28.95! Pre-order Bill's next book in the new Confronting Series, ‘Confronting Evil' NOW! Now's the time to get a Premium or Concierge Membership to BillOReilly.com, the only place for honest news analysis. In Case You Missed It: Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Did you know that using a birth ball is one of the easiest ways to help relieve common pregnancy pains? In today's episode of the To Birth and Beyond podcast, Anita is going to provide practical tips for incorporating a pregnancy ball into your daily routine to alleviate common pregnancy pains and improve pelvic mobility. The episode emphasizes the importance of starting early and using the birth ball as a supportive tool throughout pregnancy and postpartum recovery. You will be so surprised when you can mitigate back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain and so much more with a birth ball! - - - - - - - - -If you liked this episode of To Birth and Beyond, tell your friends! Find us on iTunes and Spotify to rate/review/subscribe to the show.Want more? Visit www.ToBirthAndBeyond.com, join our Facebook group (To Birth and Beyond Podcast), and follow us on Instagram @tobirthandbeyondpodcast! Thanks for listening and joining the conversation!Resources and References Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita Lamberthttps://www.instagram.com/holistichealthphysioShow Notes 0:55 - Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita Lambert2:47 - Anita shares what today's episode is all about3:10 - Anita lists the different pregnancy pains that a birth ball can help relieve4:13 - Anita explains why the term “birth ball” is a tad incorrect5:41 - Anita explains how to choose the correct size of birth ball for your needs7:18 - Anita runs through some irth ball positions and exercises for each7:22 - Birth ball position #1: Sitting on the ball9:39 - Birth ball position #2: Kneeling on floor and leaning upper body on the ball11:56 - Birth ball position #3: Child's pose, ball close, lean forward and place hands, head, and neck on the ball15:05 - Birth ball position #4: Lunge17:01 - Anita describes how long to do each of the exercises outlined in this episode18:30 - It's never too early to start using a birth ball!19:17 - Anita shares about her bonus Birth Ball Training inside of Bump to Birth!19:37 - Anita brings the episode to a close!

Shannon Sharpe and Chad “Ochocinco” react to NFL teams calling Shadeur arrogant and brash, Jimmy Johnson retiring after 31 years and the NYSAC reviewing the Tank vs Roach kneel down. A high schooler also pulls a Draymond & much more!05:30 - NFL team calls Shedeur Sanders brash 19:55 - Quinn Ewers23:45 - Sammy Sosa viral picture 28:49 - High schooler pulls Draymond move 30:51 - Kneeling review from Tank vs. Roach36:00 - Q&Ayyyy(Timestamps may vary based on advertisements.)#Volume #ClubSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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