Podcast appearances and mentions of lady mary

The Time Riders: Part 5 A Labyrinth Palace. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. The non-descript carriage had indeed made its way through Paris' winding streets, taking well over an hour to finally stop in front of the palace and allowing Mark to get out of the cramped cab before it rattled off. The sun had set some time ago, and night hung over the city heavily, the cloying air of Paris carrying the city's growing pains to his ears. Even at night, the city was not silent. Mark adjusted his outfit and marched toward the outermost gate of the vast palace, its arms spread wide and encompassing a massive courtyard. Two men wearing ornate red uniforms and holding pikes crossed their weapons at his approach, barring his entry. One of them gruffly asked him to state his business. Trusting to the plan, Mark said nothing, but merely held out one of his sealed letters, this one bearing the emblem of Richelieu. The guard examined it for several seconds, consulting with the other guard before handing it back and then opening the gate. Mark shot them both a dirty look for holding him up in his errand and then swept inside, doing his best to look haughty and full of bravado, which is what the Musketeers were apparently renowned for. He couldn't help but reflect that they seemed a lot less heroic than history let on and were more dickbags than anything else. Oh well. Faking being a dickbag was probably significantly easier than pretending to be a hero. He passed through another gate that got him closer to the palace, this one also manned by the Swiss Guard. He arrogantly presented them with the Richelieu missive, which once again satisfied their scrutiny and he was allowed to pass. He forced himself to not look around in wonder at his surroundings, instead heading straight to the great doors that would give him admittance to the palace. Alex once again presented his letter, but this time the guards squinted at him suspiciously. "Qui es tou?" demanded one of them. His throat was dry, but he answered as readily as he could, trying to sound authoritative and even haughty. "J'mappelle Benat de Ferres, of Soule, Second Company of the King's Musketeers under Monsieur de Treville. Let me through." "Fucking Basques and Gascons," muttered one of the guards in irritation. "Why would a musketeer be bringing a missive to his excellency, the Cardinal?" he demanded to know. Mark concealed his anxiety by looking pissed and rattling off one of the phrases Alexandra had given him, hoping it had the desired effect. "I have an idea, why don't we all go ask the Cardinal and you can fucking explain to him why you held up his envoy on an important errand? Does that sound good to you?" The two men looked at one another warily; the visitor was certainly obnoxious enough to be a Musketeer and a Gascon. Sighing and shaking his head in defeat, the one man handed the sealed letter back to Mark and they opened the doors, allowing him entrance. He swept by them, calling them shitheads in Spanish before the doors closed behind him. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help Gawking as he stared at the palace around him; its splendor was beyond anything he had imagined. Walls of white plaster, carved in exquisite shapes and edged in royal purple, along with gold filigree, and incredible paintings and artifacts lined the walls. Endless numbers of servants scurried by, hardly noticing him. He shut his eyes for a moment and composed himself, remembering the details Alexandra had shown him, the way through the palace. He turned and began his search for his teacher. Lisette walked primly through the halls of the palace, bowing her head deferentially to just about everyone who passed her. Wearing an elegant gown, she seemed to almost glide along the hallway, walking with a practiced ease that her mistress had taught her. She had, in three years, only been in the royal presence twice before, in attendance to Lady Alexandra. The king had barely noticed her, but Lisette didn't mind one bit, because this was far more of a life than she ever could have hoped for. She had, of course, spent much more time in the presence of the queen, because her mistress served Anne directly. Anne of Austria seemed mostly amused by Lady Alexandra's quirky servant, but she was kind to Lisette, often sending her home with gifts of chocolate. Her devotion to the queen, while not equal to her fanatic love for Lady Alexandra, meant she would die in Anne's name if necessary. She hoped it wouldn't come to that tonight, but she had made her peace with God and the Lady Mary all the same. Alexandra had set her with the task of removing or distracting every guard she could from the route Mark would take through the palace. She was not to kill anyone, nor was she to be seen in the mayhem, if at all possible. If things went wrong, she was to retreat to the queen's quarters and be seen protecting her. It was the best alibi she could hope for. A guard up ahead. He was a sullen-looking brute, not carrying the long pikes of the gate guards, but a much more practical halberd, along with a short rapier on his belt. She knew he'd be trouble. She ducked into an alcove and pulled a small phial out of her cleavage, drinking the strong red wine from it and sloshing it around in her mouth, to make sure the aroma was on her breath. Replacing the phial, she lurched back out into the hallway and sauntered toward him lazily. "Hello, beautiful," she said drunkenly, giving him a lopsided smile. "You must' be off-duty by now." "No, I am not," he grunted, not looking at her. "Go away, slut." "C'mon," Lisette persisted, leering at him as she leaned against the wall to his left. "We could be having fun. Don' you like fun?" "Duty is not meant to be fun." "But these are fun," she drawled, as she stepped in front of him and leaned forward, using her hands to pull down the front of her bodice and exposing her perky tits to the man, whose eyes went wide at the sight. "These are all the fun you'll need;” He didn't stop her as she sidled up to him, stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around his neck. Her breath was sweet with wine, her dark eyes glassy with the lack of inhibition it brought on. Her tits pressed to his chest, her hips flat to his crotch. "Take me into that room and fuck me;” she breathed huskily, her lips no more than an inch from his. "I want to feel you inside me;” The man was rather pale at her suggestion, but nodded readily and turned around to open the door. The parlor behind was empty, the perfect place for a rendezvous with this slattern. She took him by the hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. Mark walked down the hallway, trying to not look like he was hurrying, and staying alert. He was entering a difficult part of the operation, because he was no longer in an area of the palace that led to either the king's quarters or those of Cardinal Richelieu. If anyone stopped him now, he would probably be redirected rather forcefully, and he had precious little time to waste. He walked by a door, from which he heard a moaning noise. Then he heard a familiar woman's voice, gasping and urging someone on. His translator bud wasn't close enough to hear what was being said, but he was fairly certain he knew what was happening. He subtly pushed the door open and peered inside. Mark gaped as he watched Lisette, leaning over a small table, panting while a member of the House Guard fucked her from behind, her layered skirt bunched over her ass as he pushed in and out of her. The guard remained oblivious, but she noticed the door open and flicked a glance his way. She gave him an annoyed look and jerked her head, indicating that she had this covered and he needed to keep moving. He nodded and pulled the door shut quietly before heading down the hall again. He turned a corner and then headed up some stairs, leading up to the next floor, which was apparently where Becky was being kept. He was so busy thinking about what he needed to do next that he blundered right into two guards, who grunted and then glared at him angrily. "Stupid shit!" the one man he had smacked into spat. "Watch where you are; who are you?" Mark went wide-eyed, not having expected them. His mouth seemed to work, but no sounds came forth. They blocked his ascent and continued to glare at him. "Who; are; you?" the man demanded again. Mark regained control of his voice and tried to speak. "My name is; my name is Benat;” Fuck, he'd forgotten his last name. "My name is Benat DeFlepard," he managed to say. "I am from Sully and I have' "What sort of name is DeFlepard?" snarled the one guard. "I have sealed orders," Mark interrupted, not liking where this was going. "From the Cardinal!" "Is that so?" sneered the man. "Let's see them!" Mark handed him the sealed missive scroll. The man examined it and frowned. "This is the king's seal," he growled. "What is the meaning of this?” Before the man could finish his query, Mark punched him in the face and then pulled his crème-colored tabard over his head and threw him down the stairs. The guard cursed loudly as he rolled at least two floors. Mark was too late to stop the other man from drawing his short rapier, but managed to grapple onto him, keeping himself from being run through. Mark might have been taller, but the guard was a veteran of many wars, strong and cunning. It wasn't long before he had Mark's back pressed against the wall, both men fighting for balance on the stairs. "Little shit!" he shouted, trying to press the edge of his blade against Mark's throat and slit it. They tussled, and Mark managed to wedge his arm between his neck and the rapier, feeling the sickening cold pain of the keen edge creasing his forearm. His free hand, however, snaked down to the pistol on his belt, twisting the leather until the muzzle pointed down; The stairwell echoed with a thunderous crack as Mark pulled the trigger and discharged the weapon, the iron ball punching a hole in the guard's boot and then his foot. The man groaned and staggered, releasing Mark. His ears ringing, Mark managed to shove the man down the stairs, following his comrade. He shook his head and began sprinting up the stairs, knowing the whole palace would be coming down on his head any second now. Alexandra was concealed in a secret closet in a parlor not far from the queen's quarters, listening carefully. She was wearing the red uniform of the Cardinal's personal guard, her impressive bust flattened and pulled tight with linen straps. Her golden hair was held in a ponytail while a black mask concealed her facial features. Her rapier sat on her hip and three customized pistols were concealed around her person, along with several knives balanced for throwing. She heard the discharge of a firearm, followed by shouts of alarm and fright. She hung her head and sighed. She'd been hoping it wouldn't come to this, but there seemed to be nothing for it. She would see her obligation met. Alexandra crossed herself and exited the hidden space, heading toward the Cardinal's quarters, determined to cause a distraction for Mark as he went in the opposite direction to rescue Rebecca. It was all in God's hands now. All she could hope was that Mark had remembered what his name was. Mark raced down the hallway, ignoring people who poked their heads out of various rooms and parlors to see what all the commotion was, before closing their doors and locking them in panic at the sight of him. He had his sword in one hand, his pistol in the other. Having discharged his shot already and having no idea how to readily and safely reload the damn thing, the pistol was mostly for intimidation purposes at this point. Thankfully, if he pointed it at people, they tended to make themselves scarce. A guard rushed around the corner, his halberd in hand, but Mark smashed the ornate swept hilt of his rapier into his mouth, which dissolved in a welter of blood, lips and gum before he burbled and fell over. Mark kept running. He shoulder-blocked his way past another guard, but then found himself confronted by a small group of angry servant girls, who kept swearing in French and throwing bread rolls and potatoes at him. Covering his head, he sprinted past them, resisting the urge to take a swipe at the uppity wenches. There was the room! He raced up to it and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Given the amount of noise and commotion he was causing, he shouldn't have been surprised. He stepped back and then slammed the heel of his sturdy boot into the door with all his might, knocking it out of its frame and falling to the floor. He rushed inside, looking around for his teacher, but she was nowhere in sight. That's when the heavy vase smashed into the back of his head. He was on his face on the floor, reality swimming around him. He heard someone hissing at him as he was handled roughly by his neck and his tunic. He was turned onto his back and someone was straddling him now, their supple legs on either side of his throat and their heavy skirt bunched up between their legs, allowing him to goggle up at his assaulter. "Becky! Stop! Stop, I; Ow! Jesus! Quit Hitting Me! It's Me, Mark!" The flurry of fists halted and then there was a pause thick with confusion. He felt his cheeks being gripped tightly, immobilizing his face and then his neck pulled up so that whoever was sitting on him could look at him. "Mark?" Becky exclaimed in disbelief. "Mark! Oh my God!" She began smothering him with feverish kisses, still straddling him. Still dizzy, he was in no particular shape to stop her, in spite of the fact the whole palace was on its way to kill him. His eyes finally managed to focus, and he looked up at her. "I've missed you too, Becks, but can you let me up, please?" Becky blinked and then jumped off him hastily, helping him to his feet. She still seemed stunned to see him, not that he blamed her. "How?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief and wet with emotion. "You; you were." "Dead? Yeah, kinda." "The how are you here?" she asked, trembling. He shrugged. "To quote Neil De Grasse-Tyson, science, bitches." "Oh, it doesn't matter," she exhaled, crushing herself to him and hugging tight, her body shaking with raw emotion. "You're back, Mark. You came back for me;” He smiled and hugged her back, his hand on the back of her head. "Well sure I did. You're my time-travelling partner, aren't you? Can't leave you here with these smelly savages." She laugh-choked back a sob and look up at him, her eyes leaking tears onto her scarlet cheeks. "And we're gonna get out of here and; Becks, are you, like, really drunk?" Her expression of delight warped into a scowl at his query and she pushed herself away from him. "Well what do you expect? I only spent the past month trying to kill myself with alcohol while you were taking your unscheduled nap, you jerk!" "I'm sorry," he faltered, knowing that this couldn't possibly be the right time to make her angry, on so many levels. "Let me get you out of here and then I'll explain everything." "Hang on;” she huffed, stomping over to a table and grabbing her bottle of wine, tilting her head back and taking a stiff pull from it gulping loudly. Mark made a wan face and fidgeted, acutely aware of the time they were losing. "Becks, no offense, but I'm pretty sure every guard in Paris is looking for me right now, and I' "Sounds like more of a you problem than a me problem," she grunted, attempting to drain the bottle with several loud glucks. "Nobody was trying to kill me while I was here." "No, you seem to have that covered;” he said dryly. She shot him a nasty look, but didn't stop drinking. "Look, we need to go," he insisted. "Pretty sure Alexandra's risking her neck to make sure I can' "Alexandra?" Becky interrupted, stopping drinking to look at him pointedly. "The gorgeous blonde I want to fuck?" "I; sure," Mark replied, trying to keep up. "Pretty sure she and Lisette are' "Who's Lisette?" Becky asked suspiciously, lurching toward him. She was quite a bit drunker than he'd initially thought. "It doesn't matter," he declared, determined to get moving before Richelieu arrested and shot his ass again. "We need to get' Mark winced in fear as she surged toward him, the bottle raised over her head. She flew by him and smashed the bottle down on the head of a guard who had barged into the room. His eyes rolled up into his head and he went to sleep. "Weren't you drunk moments ago?" Mark asked in disbelief. "Looks like you're the one who need rescuing." Becky shot back. "You were half a second away from having an exit wound the size of an airport runway in your chest just now." Another guard sprang around the corner. Becky, who was closest to the door, kicked him savagely between the legs. The man staggered to a stop and stiffened, but didn't fall over, the impact of her foot cushioned by the many layers of baroque skirt she was wearing, not to mention the dainty, padded slipper. As the man gaped at her, she kicked him between the legs again, but her skirt interfered, softening the blow to the place where he merely doubled over from the ache. Becky snarled angrily, lunged in, grabbed him by the neck and DDT him, almost as smoothly as ‘Jake the Snake' did to fellow pro wrestlers. This time he stayed down. "Jerk!" she muttered, glaring at the man. Without a second thought, she used a knife on the man's belt to tear layers of skirt away, leaving herself clad only in the bodice and skimpy underwear, with garters holding up the silk stockings she wore. She knelt on the unconscious man's back and pulled his boots off, replacing her slippers with the sturdier footwear. She then stripped his rapier and pistol from his person before turning to look at Mark. "You ready now?" she asked pointedly, standing there in what basically amounted to negligee and musketeer boots, while holding a rapier and a wheellock pistol. He gaped at her for a moment, unable to say anything. "You have no idea how stupidly sexy you look right now, Becks." Mark managed to say. "I'll believe it when Alexandra says it to me," she sniffed, turning and heading out the door. "Let's go, hero." Mark sighed and trotted after her, leaving the two men lying on the floor in a spreading pool of wine and broken shards of glass. Lisette made sure the guard was arranged comfortably in the plush chair, snoring, his breeches still around his ankles, his soft cock oozing cum all over his balls. She shook her head in exasperation as she rearranged her skirts; no sooner had the man cum than he yawned and began to fall asleep. She'd been nowhere close to climaxing when he'd finished. Typical male. At least the boy from the future liked to make sure she came first, even if he was a naïve school boy. She left the door open, to make sure his shame was on display and then hurried down the hallway, holding her skirt up and allowing herself to run. The palace was ringing with shouts of alarm, anger and panic. Everything seemed to be going as planned, whatever that entailed. She just trusted that Mistress knew what she was doing. Guards from various regiments were racing around now, getting one another's way and shouting orders angrily. She passed through them virtually unnoticed, merely a servant girl looking for shelter. She made a beeline right for the queen's royal apartments, and she was stopped by no one, since she was known to the guards and stuff. She nodded hastily as she passed two guards outside the ornate doors and headed inside the boudoir. Anne of Austria looked up from a book to see Lisette scurry in, closing the door behind herself and then pressing her ear to the door, ignoring everyone else in the room. She then saw the queen, blinked, curtseyed hastily, and went back to eavesdropping on the frenzy of activity outside. The monarch shook her head wearily and went back to reading her book. "You may not pass through here!" shouted the house guard, blocking Alexandra's passage forward. She had identified herself as a member of the Cardinal's guard, using her well-practiced man's voice to give credit to her guise. Thought he believed her, the man remained unmoved, barring her way. "I told you, I need to reach the Cardinal!" she insisted, knowing full well he would not let her through. "That is no concern of mine," he said coldly, glaring at her, his hand on his sword, ready to draw it. "Find another way to reach your Cardinal, because if you come another step closer, I will run you through." "So be it!" she growled as she lunged in, her own rapier flashing in her hand. The man drew his weapon and thrust at her, but she parried and then drove the point of her blade through the shoulder of his sword arm, pinning him against the wall. He groaned as his sword fell to the ground, but then her foot slammed into his face while she pulled her rapier from his shoulder. He was unconscious, but he would live. She had no cause to kill these men. She ran down the hallway, listening all the while to the commotion that echoed through the Louvre. A young guard barred her progress at a juncture in the hallways, and before he was even ready, she struck him across the head with the basket of her rapier, knocking him out. Alexandra continued along the corridor, but then saw several guards rushing into the other end of the hall, outside of an ornate door that led to the king's royal apartments. Upon seeing her, the six men pointed their muskets at her, three kneeling while the other three stood behind. A series of barks shook the area as she ducked around a corner hastily, avoiding their barrage. She could hear them shouting orders to reload. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. Idiots. Before they had reloaded, she had pulled a small device made of two pieces of flint out of her pocket, along with a tiny clay pot out of the other. From the hole in the top of the pot hung a thin strip of rigid paper. She held the pot by its flat bottom and snapped the flint pieces against one another, producing sparks that caught on the paper and began to burn. As the flame made its way down the paper wick, she counted slowly and calmly before leaning around the corner, tossing the pot, which skated on its flat bottom along the floor toward the guards who opposed her. She then ducked back, waiting grimly. There were shouts and the sound of boots stampeding, but then an unreal hissing shriek and a bright, flaring white light as the magnesium powder inside the container ignited. Cries of pain followed. Ten seconds later, the light died, and she rounded the corner and strode down the hallway. Four of the six guards had fled before the grenade went off, while two were writhing on the ground, clutching at their eyes from the flash blindness. She stepped between them and kicked in the door toward the king's apartments before turning around and walking away, knowing that this would create additional confusion as they sought to find the assassin in the red tabard who sought to slay the Sun King. There was more chaos to sow. Mark and Becky sprinted down the hall, ignoring the pell-mell going on around them. Inevitably, though, they were confronted by a soldier of the Cardinal, one that Mark recognized. It was the captain who had shot him. Marks teeth clenched as he rushed forward, ready to run the sonofabitch through, but Becky was faster. She threw herself into a skid, sliding along the polished floor, hurtling straight toward the man. He gaped at her in disbelief, but by then, she had slammed her foot into his crotch, doubling him over with a grunt of unreal pain. With a roar, she surged to her feet, grabbed the man around the middle from behind and yanked him over backwards, suplexing his family jewels with zest. Mark had by now skidded to a halt and watched in disbelief while his teacher stood over the supine officer and kicked him in the ribs. "Bastard!" she raged. "Teach you to kill my students!" She knelt and yanked his head up, making sure his eyes were open as she pointed at Mark, her voice dripping with vitriol. "See that? He's alive! You can't even kill something right! Your life means nothing! Nothing!" She smacked his head off the tile floor and gathered up her weapons before looking at Mark, composing herself now. "Sorry," she said with a flush of embarrassment. "You probably wanted him, didn't you? I thought you were dead, so if I ever saw him again, I'd have to avenge you." Mark shrugged. "No harm done. Except to him, and I don't really' Mark stopped talking and stared down the hallway behind Becky. Three men in flamboyant uniforms, trimmed in blue and white like himself were now approaching them. One had a grim, patrician air and about him, the second a handsome boyish charm, while the third towered over the others by a head and shoulders, a contemptuous smirk on his face. "That can't be good;” he thought. Becky didn't even blink. Without turning around, she pointed her pistol backwards over her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The bark of the shot echoed around the palace and the giant staggered backward, eyes wide in shock, before he fell over like a redwood. The other two gaped at her in astonishment as she turned around to glower at them. They hastily took hold of their downed friend and hauled him out of sight, their duty to the king forgotten. "That's right, ladies, run!" Becky called out, her chest heaving. "How's it feel to get beat up by a girl?" "You are so sexy right now, Becks." Mark chuckled, approaching her. She turned back to face him; covered with gunpowder smudges, scratches and the occasional bruise, she'd never looked more attractive to him. Heedless of their surroundings, she threw herself against him and kissed him shamelessly. His hands found her ass and squeezed as he returned the kiss and she moaned into his mouth. If there'd been a rhino horn on his crotch, he'd have been impaled on it. She broke the kiss and looked at him hungrily, her eyes shouldering with desire. "I'm so glad you're not dead, Mark," she breathed. "I can't wait to prove it to you when we get the fuck out of here." Mark took her hand and pulled her down the hallway, breaking into a run. They weren't out of danger yet. "What're you laughing about?" she asked, scowling while she allowed him to lead her through the palace. "I think that was Porthos you shot," he said almost cheerfully. "Becks, you ganked Porthos." "Oh, I did not," she hissed, trying to not feel disgust at her student's lack of historical knowledge and basic temporal mechanics. "Porthos doesn't die until 1670. So if that guy dies, it wasn't Porthos. If it was Porthos, he isn't dead. Read a book, Mark." "Ha, you said bookmark!" he laughed as he pulled her around a corner and down another hallway, trying to reach the point Alexandra had designated. "Uh!" Becky groused. "Why was I so damn happy that you lived? I swear, Mark, I; Ack!" They both whirled in panic and threw themselves back around the corner as a withering hail of musket fire peppered the plaster of the walls where they'd been standing mere seconds before. They scrambled to their feet and began running back the way they'd come, determined to not die in some baroque version of Bullet Hell from the Matrix. "Fucking shit!" Mark yelped, yanking her around another corner as more soldiers appeared and filled the hall with musket balls. "This sucks!" "Ya' think?" she hissed as they kept running, their options becoming increasingly limited. "I'm in this too, Mister Spotlight!" "Yeah, well at least you don't have the Goblin City Battle music from the Labyrinth soundtrack stuck in your head while they chase us around and try to kill us!" "I do now, you fucker! Thanks a lot!" Becky raged. A lone house guard skidded to a stop near them and prepared to fire. Mark flung his pistol at the man, striking him in the head before knocking him aside as they continued down the corridor. "What did you throw your gun away for, dumbass?" she exclaimed, wondering if blood loss after getting shot had permanently damaged Mark's brain. She hoped he could still get it up, if they made it out of here. "It had no ammo in it." Mark grunted, trying to get his bearings, thinking back to the plans of the palace Alexandra had shown him. "Why were you carrying around an empty pistol?" Becky asked in disbelief. "Intimidation purposes? Were you gonna hold it sideways when you pointed it at people, hope you looked all gangster?" "I plugged a guy on my way to find you, okay?" he sighed as they kept running. "The first shot fired that started this whole mess, it was me shooting some jackoff in the foot as I tried to find you." Becky skidded to a stop, halting Mark's flight as well. She looked into his eyes and then hugged him in relief. "Thank you, Mark," she said quietly. "You came for me, after you nearly died, and we both could today. You're very brave." When she ended the hug, Mark found she had put her own pistol in his hands. He frowned in confusion. "Why'd you give me your pistol?" he asked. "Because let's face it, I'm a lot more likely to snag another one than you are," she sighed. "Let's go, I'm done with the Sun King's France." Out of breath, they settled for trotting down a hallway, surrounded by the echoing sounds of chaos. Things had gotten so confused that the guards were all fighting one another now, thinking the enemy in their midst. Panting, the pair stopped suddenly as they came to a major intersection of hallways. Not far away, a confused brawl consisting of house guard and the Cardinal's guard blocked their passage. Upon their appearance, though, both sides paused in their fight and stared at them. Then a captain raised a call to kill them. Without even thinking, Mark pointed his pistol at the huge iron chandelier over the soldier's heads and fired. The plaster ceiling broke as the iron ball struck at and the chandelier plummeted, crashing into the dozens of men before while clouds of plaster dust filled the hall. "I can't believe that worked!" Mark laughed as they ran down another venue. "Yes, it was very impressive, Gene Kelly," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "Next, you'll be swinging from the damn chandeliers or using your knife to ride down tapestries." Soldiers surged around the corner, charging into the couple. Mark shouted in fury as they tried to skewer him while they attempted to wrestle Becky to the ground. He dodged a blade and slashed his foe across the arm before leaping back to try and give himself room. He looked around in a panic and saw Becky kicking a soldier in the nuts before punching another in the face, her eyes flashing with fury. Someone slammed into him from behind and he tumbled forward, scrambling to gain his feet. More bodies joined the fracas and he realized that they were not only trying to kill him but fighting one another as well. It was difficult to breathe. There were too many bodies smothering him. He gasped in panic and strained to find room for himself. His shaking hand gripped a sword and she shoved it forward indiscriminately, feeling something soft give before him. He focused all his effort on crawling forward, finally emerging from the churning pile of men, locked in combat. He dragged himself along the floor but then grunted in pain as something speared into his thigh from above and behind. He turned to look, his eyes watering in pain, seeing a man in red, glaring at him, raising his rapier for another strike. Then a sword point burst through the man's chest from behind. His eyes widened, and he dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground. The man who had killed him was already moving on to another target. Exhausted and dull with pain, Mark dragged himself to a wall and slumped against it, looking around for Becky, but she was nowhere to be seen. No. Not again. He ignored the maelstrom of violence and pushed himself to his feet, limping down a hallway, sword held loosely in his hand as he went to find his teacher. Alexandra strode down the hall with purpose, her senses keen for trouble. She had caused as much trouble as she could, all the while keeping the fray well away from the queen's quarters. She regretted that men would die today, due to their poor judgement, but she understood that the girl Rebecca could not remain here in Paris. A deep foreboding warned her that almost any price was worth paying to see her safely away. Sparring with D'Artagnan. She stopped as a lone figure came into view, blocking her way down the corridor. He wore the blue of the king's mousquetaires, his young face etched with determination. His hand rested on the hilt of his rapier while he observed her. "So," he began, tilting his head. "You must be the cause of all this mayhem, oui?" "I am not who you seek." Alexandra said plainly. "I do not truck with liars and I do not appreciate being lied to!" the young man snapped. "I would have your name before I run you through in the king's. Are you an agent of Buckingham?" "No." "Charles of Spain?" "I have no time for this," Alexandra said testily, putting her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Move aside and let me complete my task, musketeer!" "Then it is death you crave!" he hissed, his rapier flashing in his hand now. "I shall happily give it to you in the queen's honor!" Alexandra drew her blade as her foe rushed forward. She parried his initial thrust and then counter-thrust, which he swatted aside. A flurry of thrusts and ripostes followed, the two warriors measuring one another, vying for advantage in the narrow hallway. Steel rang and flashed. Alexandra's sword point tore a vent in one of her foe's sleeves, and she followed up with a swipe at his eyes, but he dodged away nimbly. He lunged in with the speed of a striking serpent and she caught his blade on hers before it pierced her stomach, turning it aside. They pressed blade-to-blade, moving around one another in a slow, deadly circle, their eyes locked. He danced away again as a main-gauche flashed in her hand, nearly shearing his throat open. He spun around her next attack, and when he was facing her again, a pistol had appeared in his free hand. At point blank range, he pulled the trigger. The thunderous bark of the firearm rattled her teeth as she bent backwards, the bullet passing harmlessly overhead. Alexandra somersaulted backward gracefully, coming to her feet with her rapier guarding against a follow-up attack. A lot of bemusement crossed his face. "Very pretty, good sir," he said. "But it will not save you." He darted in again and another furious exchange of swordplay followed. His blade kissed the top of her thigh, leaving a shining crimson thread on her skin. She paid him in kind with a nick across his cheek, followed by cutting the red plume from his hat. He was nearly as fast as she was, and his recklessness made him dangerously unpredictable, even to one as skilled and experienced as Alexandra. Their blades grated as they strained against one another, teeth clenched and eyes flashing in fury. With a cry of effort, she shoved with all her might and threw him back. He kept his feet and remained on guard, irritated by his foe's grit and skill. "D'Artagnan!" shouted Athos as he and Aramis dragged the unconscious Porthos across the hallway behind the combatants, disappearing from sight. This distracted the Musketeer, who turned to look behind himself in confusion and then disbelief. He glanced back at his foe and then sighed, sheathing his blade. "Until next time, enemy mine;” he said, before darting around the corner to catch up with his comrades. Alexandra waited some seconds after he was gone and then sagged against the wall, sighing heavily. She rubbed her face for a moment before returning her rapier to its sheathe and continuing on. She had to find Mark and Rebecca. The door to the room swung open and Mark staggered inside, panting in pain. His entire leg felt like it was on fire, and it was maddeningly sticky. He had lost his sword while searching for Becky, but it mattered little if he couldn't find her. He tumbled into a sitting position, propping himself up on his hands and trying to breathe. Everything hurt now, and it was getting to the place where he couldn't move. His head throbbed and he was getting dizzy. With extreme effort, he managed to tear one of his sleeves off, and tied it around his leg, hoping it would act as a tourniquet and perhaps staunch the bleeding. It stung like fucking Hell and to his distress did nothing ease his pain. He sat there panting, when a solemn figure in red moved slowly by the door. There was a pause and then the person came back into view, peering at Mark quizzically. Clad in red robes and a little red skull cap, his tight, lemony features creased in recognition and then disbelief. "I know you," the Cardinal murmured, his eyes never leaving Mark. "Yes, you are the boy from the field, the one who claimed to be a Spanish noble and had the pretty girl with him." He stepped closer, still scrutinizing Mark, who tried to move backwards, his body screaming in protest. "But you died," the elderly man stated. "My captain shot you. You died in that field. What witchcraft is this?" Annoyance flashed in the Cardinal's eyes now. "So, you are the cause of all this tumult. The girl I was to give to the queen, she is missing and now I know why." He pulled a pistol from within the voluminous folds of his red robes and cocked it before pointing the muzzle down at Mark's face. "I think it is time I dealt with this problem myself, once and for all." Too hurt and exhausted to fight back, Mark squeezed his eyes shut; "I Kick You In The Nuts, Richelieu!" shrilled a voice from the doorway behind the Cardinal, the shout followed by a sickening thump as a musketeer's boot appeared beneath Richelieu's groin. The man stiffened for a moment in confusion, but then his eyes crossed, and he bit his lower lip as his skin turned a sickly shade of green. While Richelieu slumped forward and then fell on his side, trembling and holding the family jewels, Mark goggled up at Becky, who stood indignantly in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring down at His Eminence. "Asshole;” she muttered as she stepped over the Cardinal and came over to Mark, who was shaking with the effort of holding himself up. Her eyes welled with emotion as she knelt next to him. "Oh, Mark," she said in a gentle voice. "Look at you, you got stabbed, baby. I'm so sorry;” "I'll be alright," he managed to say as she hugged him to her. "At least you still look amazing, no matter how badly your ass has been kicked." Becky's laugh choked back her sob and she smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "Smart-ass," she murmured. "C'mon, let me bind your boo-boo properly and then we'll get out of here, before everyone in Paris is dead." She fixed his makeshift tourniquet and then helped him stand. Once he was upright, he took a deep breath and smiled at her. "I think I can walk, I was just in need of a breather, ya' know?" She giggled. "How the Hell are we gonna explain a rapier wound through your thigh when you get home?" "With any luck, Chester will have a little something' to fix me right up." Mark replied. "Let's go. If we are where I think we are, then our ride isn't that far away." They walked cautiously down several smaller hallways, avoiding any and all encounters. They chaos seemed to have abated, at least for now. Alexandra had predicted that if fighting broke out, there was be lots of confused violence, followed by the various guard companies withdrawing to their assigned wings of the palace, to directly protect their charges, such as the king, queen and cardinal. "Bet the Cardinal's guards are gonna be upset," Mark chuckled. "He's nowhere near his quarters, and they let him get kicked in the freaking balls." Becky giggled as she walked alongside him, her arm through his. "You have no idea how good that felt, Mark. A girl could get used to that. Maybe we should visit Berlin, see if I can kick Hitler in the nuts." "One grand adventure at a time, teach;” he said wearily, causing her to laugh. But her mirth was brought up short when a solitary figure appeared in front of them, wearing red and clad in a black mask, a rapier and several pistols on their belt. Becky scowled, getting ready to step in front of her student, when Mark seemed to sigh in relief. "I am glad to see you are both well," said the person, walking forward, pulling their golden hair out of its ponytail and removing the mask. Becky's heart leapt as she came face-to-face with Lady Alexandra once more. "Thank the Lord." She stepped in and embraced them both, all three of them trembling at being reunited. Alexandra finally smiled at her friends and nodded. "We must still get you out of here, before the guards return to some sense of normalcy. Mark, do you still have the place name I gave to you?" Mark smiled wearily. "I; it's in the little pocket in my pants here, but it's probably pretty red and unreadable by now." "It's a good thing, then, that I wrote a copy, non?" Alexandra lilted, pulling a small piece of vellum out from beneath the sash she wore and handing it to Becky. "Go to this place," the noblewoman instructed. "By carriage, it should not take more than three days. It is a sanctum I use on occasion and it will be safe. Lisette and I will find you there a day or two after you arrive." She then handed two small, round jars into Becky's palm as well. "Use these to salve your wounds, until I arrive. I promise you, they will work." "How can we thank you?" Becky asked, staring at Alexandra, enchanted. The French woman smiled and then pulled Becky to her, kissing her deeply and passionately. Becky shuddered and moaned, her arms wrapping around Alexandra and returning the kiss passionately. Mark smiled as he watched the blondes make out for almost a minute before Alexandra reluctantly pulled away. "We need to stop, or we will be fucking right here in the halls of the palace," she breathed, wiping at the corner of her mouth with a finger. "We will see one another soon, and celebrate then." She turned to Mark and smiled before leaning in and kissing him gently. "You are a brave man, my friend. Never doubt it, no matter what travails Heaven provides." She walked them through several secret passages now, until they emerged into a small courtyard, under the cover of night. Standing nearby, a non-descript carriage awaited them. Alexandra wrapped Becky in a cloak and then spoke to the driver while the clambered inside. His instructions were clear, and he would not deviate from them. Becky and Mark looked out a small window, smiling and waving at Alexandra, who held up her hand to bid them farewell. The carriage exited the Louvre via a small gate where the guards asked no questions, and then they were on their way through Paris. Mark sank back into the surprisingly plush seat and sighed heavily. "Try not to get kidnapped again, Becks," he said lazily. "I'm not sure how much more of this my body can take." "But being rescued by you is one of my favorite reasons to use tawdry sex as a thank you," she protested, turning to smile at him and tracing a fingernail up and down his chest. "You wouldn't deprive me of that joy, would you, hero?" "Perish the thought, teach;” he chuckled tiredly. A time to recuperate. Mark had Lisette pinned beneath him and rocked back and forth on top of her, his cock plunging in and out of her molten cunt, while she groaned in pleasure. It felt so good to have this boy's tool inside her again. Her legs were wrapped around his strong waist and her hips moved in time with his, taking him in as deep as she could. Lisette rarely kissed anyone who wasn't her mistress, but in this case, she was making a willing exception. Their tongues tangled wetly as they fucked, exploring one another. The tingling heat was overtaking her, and she knew it would not be long now. She crossed her ankles behind him and she bit at the skin of his chest, shuddering in delight. Mark arched his back, pushing as deep inside her as he could, before shaking and allowing himself release. Her wanton cunt gripped his cock while he came deep inside her, his whole being awash with unreal pleasure. They moaned through a frenzied kiss and then sagged together, spent and sated, at least for now. Moans, pants and sighs of bliss attracted Mark and Lisette's attention and they looked off their side; also on the huge bed with them, Becky and Alexandra were sitting together, with their arms and legs wrapped around one another, kissing hungrily as they squirmed their slick pussies together. Their matching golden hair was damp with the sweat of their exertions, skin slick and shining. The greedy smacking and sucking sounds their slits made as they mingled made the four lovers shiver in delight. Alexandra and Becky were groping and fondling one another with unreal need, their nails leaving red marks and their fingers gripping tight enough to leave welts. Neither relented, though, desperate to cum together. The moans became groans and they were panting as they gyrated their hips, churning rhythmically in a sensual dance of bliss. They pulled tighter against one another, clenching their teeth and craning their necks as they peaked, then crying out and pressing their molten, gooey pussies as they came. More feverish kissing punctuated the climax and the finally both collapsed backward, chests heaving, their legs still scissored together. Steam seemed to be rising from their bodies, skin flushed pink. The four lovers lay silent for some minutes, just basking in their shared bliss. Mark finally pulled himself out of Lisette and then knelt over her face, allowing the dark-haired girl to slide his cock into her mouth, cleaning their mingled cum from his cock, which she did with great delight. Becky and Alexandra finally clasped wrists and pulled themselves up into a sitting position, hugging tiredly, but not willing to relinquish their most intimate contact. They kissed deeply and contentedly, fondling one another's tits. Lisette looked over at them and giggled. Alexandra looked over at her servant, her eyebrow raised. "What is so funny, girl?" Lisette turned on her side and rested her head on her hand while Mark spooned in behind her. "I was just thinking, Mistress; you and Miss Rebecca look so much alike. What if you are her ancestor?" Becky and Alexandra both thought about that, looked at one another for a moment, shrugged and began kissing again, their tongues tangling loudly. "And if that was the case, think about what we discussed the other day," she continued, smirking mischievously. "You said you had wondered what it would be like to Monsieur Mark's child, yes? Wouldn't that also make him Miss Rebecca's ancestor?" Mark burst out laughing while Becky choked on her shock, interrupting the kiss she had been so enjoying. She looked at Lisette in disbelief. Alexandra just sighed and shook her head, used to her servant's twisted humor. The moment of metaphysical terror passed for Becky and they all cuddled together in the center of the bed, kissing tenderly and caressing. Alexandra had told Becky all about Mark's efforts to find her and reach her, what he had undergone and risked. Becky's eyes shone as she looked at Mark at promised to make sure he was properly thanked until the end of time. "I wish you could stay," Alexandra almost moped, regretting that she had to give her new friends up. "I enjoy your company, and I am not ashamed to say I love you both." "Feeling's mutual, Alexa," Becky lilted, tracing a fingernail across her generous tit. "But maybe we needn't end our association. If we designate a consistent place, when you know you are available, you can leave a message there. Mark and I will check for messages, and when we see one, we can visit you at the appointed time. No conflicts or dangers presented, as long as we're all certain of the clear lines of communication." "I like that idea," Alexandra said, grinning. "And I have a gift for you both." She climbed off the bed and went to retrieve something. She returned shortly with two bottles, which she presented to them. "A new type of wine, invented in my native region of Champagne," she said, kneeling on the bed as they examined the bottles. "Twice fermented and sweet on the tongue, not unlike my darling Rebecca." Becky blushed and Mark grinned. "You'll be glad to know that in our time, champagne is one of the most expensive and sought-after drinks in the world, used in every important celebration." "That does please me, Mark." Alexandra said, nodding her head and deciding to not chide him this time about telling her the future. "And now that I think of it, literally, I've got a present for you, Alexa." Mark mused, getting off the bed. The three women watched as he walked into a large closet, rummaging around loudly. When he returned, he was holding what appeared to be several unusual books, which he handed to Alexandra. "What are these?" she asked, puzzled. "Well, the graphic novel is a pictorial history of Wonder Woman, who you may recall I told you a little bit about," he explained, sitting on the bed again. "And the other three books are all written by a man named Alexander Dumas and are fictional works about the Three Musketeers. I figured they'd be humorous reading for you." She looked up at him incredulously. "But; why were they in my closet here in my chalet?" He grinned again. "Well, just a moment ago, I decided to give them to you. So in a few days, I'm gonna gather them up, bring them here to just before Becky and I arrive, and bury 'em in your closet, where I know they are. That way, I don't run into any of us. And clearly it worked." Becky made a wry face. "Ya' know, I'd say you're getting the hang of this whole temporal travel thing, but I'm pretty sure you're only getting the hang of abusing it." Mark smirked at her and pinched her nipple, making her shiver and bite her lip. He then looked back at Alexandra. "And when you're done with 'em, you can just leave 'em in our drop-off spot and Becks and I'll pick them up. That way, there's no anachronistic copies of nineteenth-century novels or twentieth-century comic books lying around to be discovered by archaeologists." "I take back what I said just now, you're gonna get us all clock-hammered right out of existence." Becky sighed, causing her lovers to laugh. Mark and Becky lay side-by-side in her bed and holdings hands, back in their own time and generally none the worse for wear. They'd learned some valuable lessons and had made some important contacts along the way. "Do' you really think Alexandra's my ancestor?" Becky mused, looking at her bedroom ceiling. Mark shrugged. "You sure look a lot alike, and you're both Hell on wheels. I'm still amused by the notion of me being your great-great-great-whatever grandfather." She sighed and shook her head. "I can handle the notion of fucking and falling in love with my great-whatever grandmother, but the notion of you as my whatever grandfather gives me the jibblies. Just promise me you won't impregnate Alexa and make that come true, Mark." He chuckled. "I promise. I have no idea how trans-temporal alimony or visitation rights even work." Becky giggled and turned in to face him, cuddling close. "So, who're you gonna save me from next, hero?" she purred, nipping at his earlobe and making him shiver. "Oh, God, Becks, can we start out with some really ferocious kindergartners from the Roaring Twenties taking you hostage? I can probably handle that right about now." She giggled again and crawled on top of him, staring down into his eyes and kissing his nose while she squirmed her tits against him. "Take me to New York in the Twenties and I'll show you how liberated a flapper girl I can be," she whispered. "Deal?" "Deal." Mark replied, pulling her down and kissing her soulfully. Count Mark and Becky in! I Think I'm Getting The Hang Of This! Finally home. Mark sat at his dining room table, eating dutifully. His mom had prepared short ribs and mashed potatoes for dinner, one of his favorites. What she didn't know was that Mark had substituted several herbs and spices into her collection, items he'd brought back from his temporal travels. At the very least, this meant they were technically several hundred years old, or sometimes that they didn't exist in the modern era at all. "I'm enjoying this particular batch of thyme that I put in the braise," Dhallyla Pritchard remarked as she gently stabbed some green beans with her fork. "Mark, where did you say you got it for me? The flavor is so; special." Mark shrugged. "Another shop I thought I'd try out," he replied. "Nowhere near our usual places." "Well, keep it up, son," his father said, sitting at the other end of the table. "No offence to your mother's cooking, but the spices we were getting before weren't helping the cause. Now this is flavor." "Such a good little minion," his mom said sweetly, reaching over and pinching his cheek. "First, you did amazingly well on your Physics exam and boosted your overall grade to the place where the university accepted you, and now you're an herbs and spices guru. Talk about an unexpected change." "Yeah," his sister Roxy said, sitting across from him, and trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice. "Unexpected is right." "Now Roxy, be nice," their mom chided. "You should be happy for your little brother, he'll be going to university with you." "As long as she pulls her grades up," grunted dad, pausing in eating to waggle his fork in her general direction. "You promised us you'd keep your grades up and we'd let you live here rent-free as a result, Rox. We're living up to our end of the bargain, what's so difficult about yours?" "Maybe I should study more and party less," she grumbled, scowling at her food. She hated to admit it, but her mom was right, the spices were great. Where had the little trouser-snake bought them? "Ya' know, open my mind more and my legs less?" "Dear!" Dhallyla gasped, looking at her daughter in shock. "Nobody said you were behaving licentiously! There's no need to use language like that!" "Sorry," the dark-haired girl sighed, putting down her fork. "Just been on edge lately. Seems to have been The Mark Show around here recently,

This whispered gothic ballad of love and betrayal was inspired by a single passing line in The Rats in the Walls — the brief mention of Lady Mary de la Poer, whose death was sealed in silence, her story buried by time and blessed by trembling hands. Written by yours truly.From that single whisper of history, this three-part tragedy was born — a lament carried through generations, and a song the stones of Exham Priory might still remember.

Downton Abbey creator Julian Fellowes has a blockbuster finale in cinemas and now HBO’s renewed companion show The Gilded Age for season 4. What’s his secret formula for making history sexy? Find out more about The Front podcast here. You can read about this story and more on The Australian's website or on The Australian’s app. The weekend edition of The Front is co-produced by Claire Harvey and Jasper Leak. The host is Claire Harvey. Audio production and editing by Jasper Leak who also composed our theme.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

FEATURING: Jim & Martha Brangenberg ORGANIZATION: iWork4Him Ministries In this episode of iRetire4Him, Jim and Martha Brangenberg take a surprising trip across the pond—to Downton Abbey! While it may sound like a lighthearted detour, the grand finale of the beloved British series offers powerful lessons for every retired believer navigating life’s next transition. Retirement isn’t the end of purpose—it’s a new beginning. Drawing inspiration from characters like Mr. Carson, Mrs. Patmore, and Lady Mary, Jim and Martha unpack timeless truths about passing the baton, mentoring the next generation, and embracing change with grace. From the butler who wonders if his life’s work still matters, to the cook who lifts her apprentice into leadership, Downton Abbey becomes a mirror of what God calls us to in this season: to keep serving, teaching, and investing in others. Because as Jim reminds us, if you’ve got a pulse, you’ve got a purpose. Key Takeaways for Retirees Retirement is not a 30-year vacation—it’s a calling to a new mission field. Your wisdom and experience are needed now more than ever in your community and church. Passing the baton well means mentoring others and celebrating their success. Transition done with grace honors God and strengthens relationships. As Downton Abbey reminds us: we move “forward into the future, not back into the past.” For Those Near or In Retirement Whether you’ve already stepped away from full-time work or are preparing to, this episode will encourage you to see this next chapter as a divinely appointed opportunity. God still has plans for you—to disciple, to serve, to pour into others—and to live fully in His purpose for your later years. ____________________________________________________________________ Two incredible sponsors that made this show possible: SaferNet VPN, more than just a sponsor – it's how Jim and Martha protect their devices at both work and home. With internet filters and controls along with antivirus, make sure you get SaferNet on your phones and computers! Instead of giving money to businesses that don’t stand on biblical principles (far from it), take your wallet to Patriot Mobile, where you can get the same great cell service at an affordable rate, supporting faith, family, and freedom. Make the switch See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In Part 2, Gwen Thompson returns to discuss Mary Todd Lincoln's life as First Lady, her personal struggles, and the lasting impact of her legacy. We examine her time in the White House during the Civil War, her profound grief after the loss of family members and President Lincoln, and the controversies that surrounded her in the public eye. Gwen provides expert insight into how Mary Todd Lincoln's Kentucky roots, political instincts, and personal resilience helped shape her role in one of the most turbulent eras in American history.https://www.mtlhouse.org/https://linktr.ee/Kyhistorypod

This week, we head to the cinema (art house, obviously) to see the new Downton Abbey film and return with tales of squeaky chairs, loud sobs (Ash's, duh) and more importantly...four key love lessons that Downton Abbey has taught us over the years. From Sybil and Tom's cross-class romance to Lady Mary's habit of shagging strangers, we unpack how the show (and the film) can help us in life and more importantly in LOVE! Plus, we round it all off with a few castle-based rom-com recommendations to keep the magic alive. Love you x LINKS: Subscribe to Damaris' substack ⁠'Trying Things' Follow Ash on ⁠tikok⁠ and ⁠instagram⁠ Follow the podcast on ⁠instagram⁠ Order Ash's debut novel ⁠Love on the Air Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

As the new feature film Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale opens worldwide, we see for the final time the elegant, glamorous and always dramatic world of Lord and Lady Grantham and their family.  We also have a chance to look back at the evolving fashion and hairstyles of Downton's characters as they have evolved from the series debut set in 1912 up to this final film set in 1930.  Joining The Gilded Gentleman table to trace this fashion history is listener favorite Dr. Elizabeth L. Block, who takes us from the high Edwardian style we saw with Violet, the Dowager Countess, to the body hugging slinky styles of Coco Chanel we see on Lady Mary in this latest film. We also explore the flapper look, the influence of war years on fashion and how the great cultural forces such as the Ballets Russes all influence the styles of the Crawley sisters. And we even take a look downstairs and talk about how styles for domestic staff were shifting as well. This episode was produced and edited by Kieran Gannon.

Mary was awarded Rural Women of the Year in 2000. An advocate for regional Australia Mary is the founder and driving force behind Cambinata Yabbies.

It's time to say goodbye...for the first of many times. Lady Mary and Branson are without their +1's, Robert's looking pensive, Guy Dexter's on stage and Edith has it all.  To support the LoG on Patreon visit: https://www.patreon.com/lordsofgrantham To buy LoG Merchandise visit: https://www.teepublic.com/user/lords-of-grantham-podcast

WARNING: This episode contains spoilers for Episode Three of Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light.Actor Lilit Lesser is a familiar face to MASTERPIECE audiences, appearing in both Wolf Hall and Endeavour. Lilit joins us today to discuss playing Lady Mary in Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light, and examine how the character balances faith with fortitude.

In the winter of 1692, the village of Salem, Massachusetts found itself embroiled in a vicious witch hunt. A total of 185 people would ultimately be accused of witchcraft, resulting in the deaths of 14 women and 5 men. To commemorate the 333 anniversary of the Salem Witch Trials, Scary Stories for the Soul is releasing one episode a week in the month of February, following 10 of the accused. On this, the last episode of our Salem Witch Trials series, we will focus our attention on Martha Carrier, Ann Foster, and Lady Mary Phips. Sources for this episode are Wikipedia, the Salem Witch Museum, Web.Archive.Org/the Boston Public Library, Ancestors.FamilySearch.org, PressBooks.Pub, “Satan and Salem: The Witch-Hunt Crisis of 1692” by Benjamin C. Ray, “In the Shadows of Salem: The Andover Witch Hunt of 1692” by Richard Hite, the 2003 film “Salem Witch Trials” by Joseph Sargent

Hannah French visits Claire van Kampen - the Tudor music advisor & arranger for both Wolf Hall TV series - to explore the music associated with many of the main characters, including King Henry VIII, Thomas Cromwell, Anne Boleyn and Lady Mary, as well as some of the musicians at court: Mark Smeaton, John Taverner and John Blanke.

Introduction to Ascension consists of a series of channelled messages given by amended masters (Arch Angel Michael, Kuthumi, Ashtar, Sananda, Lady Mary, Matreya, Theodora, St Germain) that are designed to provide an easy to understand dialogue about the ascension (raising of energetic vibration) happening on planet Earth. These messages describe what is happening energetically on the planet and how we as individuals can prepare ourselves for this transition. The Wessex Research Group archive contains those lectures that have been digitised and are freely downloadable as a personal educational resource. https://www.wessexresearchgroup.org

On l'appelait à l'époque « la petite vérole » – maladie redoutable et qui tuait la majorité de ses victimes et défigurait les autres. Il aura fallu, pour commencer de la vaincre, l'audace d'une anglaise : Lady Mary Montagu. Mention légales : Vos données de connexion, dont votre adresse IP, sont traités par Radio Classique, responsable de traitement, sur la base de son intérêt légitime, par l'intermédiaire de son sous-traitant Ausha, à des fins de réalisation de statistiques agréées et de lutte contre la fraude. Ces données sont supprimées en temps réel pour la finalité statistique et sous cinq mois à compter de la collecte à des fins de lutte contre la fraude. Pour plus d'informations sur les traitements réalisés par Radio Classique et exercer vos droits, consultez notre Politique de confidentialité.Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Have you always believed that Jane Seymour was the key reason Henry VIII reconciled with his estranged daughter, Lady Mary, who would later become Mary I? Think again! The story behind their reunion is far more complex than the popular version you've heard. In this talk, I'll be revealing the truth behind this enduring myth, and you'll discover that Jane Seymour wasn't the mastermind behind their reconciliation. Delving into this historic moment's intricate and often misunderstood details, we'll explore the real figure who helped mend the relationship between father and daughter. It's a story filled with political manoeuvring, emotional tension, and royal intrigue that goes far beyond what you've been led to believe. So, if you're ready for a deep dive into Tudor drama and to uncover the true forces at play, be sure to watch and learn the full story behind this pivotal event in English history. #TudorHistory #JaneSeymour #HenryVIII #TudorFacts #HistoryRevealed #RoyalIntrigue #MaryI

Join Ocean House owner and author Deborah Goodrich Royce for a conversation with Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York, who will discuss her latest novel, A Most Intriguing Lady. About A Most Intriguing Lady: From Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York, a sweeping, romantic, compulsively readable historical saga about a Duke's daughter–the perfect Victorian lady–who secretly moonlights as an amateur sleuth for high society's inner circle. Victorian London was notorious for its pickpockets. But in the country houses of the elite, gentleman burglars, art thieves, and con men preyed on the rich and titled. Wealthy victims–with their pride and reputation at stake–would never go to the police. They needed a society insider, one of their own, a person of discretion and finely tuned powers of observation, adept at navigating intrigue. That person was Lady Mary Montagu Douglas Scott, the youngest child of Queen Victoria's close friends, the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch. Bookish, fiercely intelligent, and a keen observer, Mary has deliberately cultivated a mousey persona that allows her to remain overlooked and significantly underestimated by all. It's the perfect cover for a sleuth, a role she stumbles into when trying to assist a close friend during a house party hosted by her parents at their stately Scottish home, Drumlanrig Castle. It is at this party that Lady Mary also meets Colonel Walter Trefusis, a distinguished and extremely handsome war veteran. Tortured by memories of combat, Walter, like Mary, lives a double life, with a desk job in Whitehall providing a front for his role in the British Intelligence Service. The two form an unlikely alliance to solve a series of audacious crimes and indulge in a highly charged on-off romance. Pacy, romantic, and fun, A Most Intriguing Lady documents one remarkable woman's ability to be both the perfect lady and a perfectly talented detective…and, of course, to find love too. About Sarah Ferguson: Sarah Ferguson is the Duchess of York. She is also a bestselling novelist, memoirist, children's book author, and film producer, and has been a spokeswoman for Weight Watchers and Wedgewood China. She currently campaigns for her Children in Crisis international charity and works on historical documentaries and films that draw on her deep interest in Victorian history. The mother of two daughters, Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie, and grandmother of three precious grandchildren, she lives in Windsor. For more information about Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York's books, visit www.amazon.com/Sarah-Ferguson-Book. For information on Deborah Goodrich Royce and the Ocean House Author Series, visit deborahgoodrichroyce.com  

It's the quarterfinals and this week in the tent sees the very first Tudor week. The merry band of bakers must face the royal judgement of Sir Paul and Lady Mary as they take on a savoury pie signature, a jumbled biscuit technical and a mad marzipan showstopper. Who will be crowned the next Star Baker and who will be banished from court? Join Sarah, Jane and Howard as they discuss Tudor week and Andrew's cheeky knights!This year we're also bringing back our Bake-Along classes where you can bake some delicious recipes inspired by the 2016 series. You can sign up for the Series 7 classes by checking out our online baking classes on our website for more information.We have a range of virtual classes on sale, where you can bake and learn from the comfort of your own home. The classes are great fun and if you use the code PODCAST at checkout you'll get 10% off, whilst gift vouchers and bundle packs are also available.*** If you enjoyed this podcast please do leave us a review, it'll help ensure more Bake Off fans find us and would be a huge motivation for to keep making these podcasts for you. Please note we're not affiliated to the show itself or Love Productions, but we're huge fans of their work.*** Become a member at https://plus.acast.com/s/the-bake-down-bake-off-unwrapped. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

By 1348 the House of Loring has fallen on hard times. Together, the Black Death and the greedy monks of Waverley have bled away all of the Loring wealth. Even the manor house will have to go to pay their debts.Then a chance encounter with the King of England provides Nigel, the last of the Lorings, with the chance to seek his fortune in the constant wars with France. But more importantly for Nigel it also means that he may be able to do the "three small deeds" that will show he is worthy to ask for the hand of the Lady Mary in marriage.Filled with chivalry, humour, and high romance, Sir Nigel is simply a rattling good yarn.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Cecily is a young woman who will get married. by Lady_Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1 I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband's adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto. Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur. I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father. My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.I nod in respect as I enter my father's study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother. He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said;  “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.” “ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile. “Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”. “My household?”  I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white. “This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.” “So… who will it be?” I ask timidly. “You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few… procedures involved.” “Procedures?” I asked. “Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well… That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.” “Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father's office. My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately… although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn't know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them. “The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me. In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said. So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee. I didn't wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me. He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed. “Lady Cecily? I'm doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.” “What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately. “Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned. I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls. “Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.” “Excuse me… I never… “ I'm at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity. “It's very nice…” I feel the touch of a stranger's single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. “I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That's good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?” “Am I sinning?”  I ask almost in a whisper. “Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places… that you shouldn't have? Don't lie. I'm a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.” “No, no, never! I swear.” I plead terrified, but almost immediately I let out a shrill scream. I feel something inside me. “Relax, it's a good sign… Your husband will have something to work on.” I watch as the doctor slides one of his fingers out of the copper.  “With God's Grace, you will not be a less fruitful woman than your mother. Undress.” I untied the 3 bows on the front of the shirt without protest. I didn't want my future spouse to think I was a troublemaker. I am far from it. I rose to a sitting position when asked to do so. “Considerable for such a young person, but very nice. 85d to my eye.” He affirms, squeezing both my breasts in his hand, which makes me squeal. “Sensitive… Your husband will be really happy. Have you eaten anything since yesterday?” “No, my mother told me not to eat anything after breakfast yesterday. The test could give bad results.” I look up as the man walks away towards his leather bag. He looks for something for a moment. “You have a wise mother. Kneel down politely on the floor.” I do so, but first I throw on and tie my petticoat. I see the doctor smile but say nothing for a long moment. He takes slow steps towards me with something shiny in his hand, but I can't see what it is. “Open your mouth wide.” he ordered. I do so immediately and unexpectedly the doctor stuffs something into my mouth, sort of like a bite block that a dentist might use, and ties it at the back of my head. My mouth opens even wider, which causes a slight pain. “Take it easy. Put your hands behind your back and let them stay there.” The man sighs somewhat amused. “Now listen to me carefully. We must see how much you can take… it's very important.” Take? I understood absolutely nothing. I wanted to talk to the man, but my mouth was opened by some metal. I could not form anything into words. I kneel impatiently as the man walks towards his bag again and firmly presses something to the wall mirror. I am unable to see it for a long moment. Then at last I see it! I have heard about this… but a long time ago I put it out of my mind. Wives had to please their husbands in many ways when they were pregnant, often doing it with their mouths, wrapping their lips tightly around the penis to please the man. The doctor came to me and helped me to stand up, leading me to a kind of test where I knelt down again, facing the mirror. “I know that the lesson programme for female marriage preparation talks about this. However, I understand that you may have forgotten. What you see is a dildo. Silicone. Here on the side.” He points his finger to the right side of the tool.  Numbers appear every few centimetres. “This will tell us what level you are starting from. Hence the spider gag in your mouth so you can get the best possible result.” I look at the man, at the reproduction of the male penis. It is so big and thick… I can't take it. Indeed, it's a good thing I haven't eaten anything… although my stomach is starting to hurt just thinking about it. “Go ahead. I won't finish this visit until you take.” I squeeze my hands together behind my back and slowly slide the dildo into my mouth. I start to choke when I feel it at the starting point of my throat and almost immediately pull my head back, causing me to cough and my eyes fill with tears. “Try again,” he orders. “I ca ca.” I want to say I can't make it, but I can't form any words and all doctor can hear is sobbing. “Take it easy. Many young women fail to do this properly.” The doctor kneels beside me. “I'll push your head and hold it for a while Okay? This might hurt a little.” I nod in acknowledgement that I agree, although the truth is that he didn't need my consent. I felt his large but gentle hands sink into my brown curly hair and after a moment he pushed my head without indicating. I'm running out of air, so my hands are almost immediately on the wall to push back. My saliva flows out of my mouth onto the floor and mixes with my tears. Soon the push subsides and I gasp loudly for air. “10 centimetres. Perfect for a start, young lady.” I feel him unbuckle the strap from the spider gag on the back of my head and pull out the dildo. “In the face of everything, I can confirm that you can marry. You can stand up, Lady Cecily.” Although I was still a little stunned, a smile appeared on my face. My parents will be proud, especially my father. “Thank you doctor and… I apologize for my behaviour.” “Nothing has happened. Fortunately, you turned out to be as obedient as you are said to be.” The man hides the instruments in his bag and pulls out a notebook. “You bleed regularly, according to your mother… The only thing I can recommend is vitamins. This will help in creating a family and in bringing new life into this world.” He speaks confidently and writes down on a piece of paper, which he seals at the end. “God bless you, young bride.” I say goodbye to the doctor, and immediately after him mother enters the chambers, before whom I bow as I did before my father to pay my respects. “The doctor has praised you. Father is delighted. So is your fiancé.” “Who is it? My fiancé?” “Daughter… These things only happen at the altar.”  She says amused by my question, which I could ask several times a day. “Now you must be clothed and this must go back to its place.” She points to my belt, my virginity belt. I have worn this attribute of maturity since I started menstruating. This has happened to every young woman in our faith. Without it, we might have sinned and tarnished the honour of the family, thus derailing any chance of a favourable marriage. It was locked with a key, and this was put in father's possession. On the wedding day it will be given to my husband. “Do married women… have to wear it too, mother?” I ask as she helps me put it on and then locks it. “Depends on their husbands. When they are in a blessed state, they usually don't, at least in the later stages of pregnancy.” I look at my mother. She was only 36 years old and pregnant, another fruit of my parents' marriage. My mother has never been without a child for more than 2 years. My parents believed that procreation was the purpose for which God created man and woman. They fulfilled it scrupulously. The Church also had this as the highest value of human life, especially of a woman. “Your underwear needs to be replaced. This one is too childish for a married woman.” mother says. “The same with your dresses… but here your spouse will have a word.” “I will put on your corset. A young married woman has no right to hunch over.” Mother pulls out my white Victorian-style corset from the wardrobe, to which I obediently allow myself to adorn and tie it, even though it was an uncomfortable piece of clothing. “Can it be a little looser, please?” “Wait a minute. You will soon get used to it. Look here, my dear.” I turn to the mirror & see my image. No one dreams of such a waist. I smile because I would be lying if I didn't like seeing how small I can be at this point on my body. “Will my sister Elizabeth be coming to my nuptials?” “It is hard to say. She is expecting a baby. It is a delicate time for a woman. You will see for yourself soon enough.” A woman puts a white dress with embroidered sunflowers on me. My shoulders were prominent, so I was a bit surprised by this choice by my parent. However, I immediately understood that this little boldness was meant to imply that I was expecting the wedding. Exactly. Wedding! “So when? When will it happen?” I ask. “In a few days… Our faith wants a girl to become a woman on her fertile days, preferably on those… the most important ones. Yours is coming.” For days afterwards, preparations were underway for the big event. The family and the servants were preparing for my wedding. My belongings were packed, although most of my clothes remained. I was assured that a wardrobe tailor-made for a married woman awaited me in my new home. Mostly my cosmetics, bedding and a small collection of jewelry were completed. I was obliged to go to bed early. Like a younger sibling, I was supposed to be in bed by 8.30 p.m. already. All this so that I would not be a tired bride. I was also taught the art of make-up and made sure my body was smooth. Husbands did not tolerate unnecessary hair. “Lady Cecily, a box for you.” a servant said from the hall. “A box? At this hour?” I ask surprised when the maid puts the box on my bed. It was of considerable size and wrapped in cobalt ribbon.  I have never received a package before bedtime. “Thank you. You may go.”  I had just come out of the bath wearing my robe and my belt was off for the bath. I waited until I was alone and with great excitement began to open… a gift? I guess you could call it that. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid. My God… what… white lace underwear appeared before my eyes. I took one part, which was supposed to be panties, but… it didn't cover anything. Only after a while did I see a small card. I take it in my hands with a trembling heart. “Hello My Spouse-to-be. I'm sure you're surprised by the contents of the package. Consider it a gift for the night that will make us soon married.” “I will be extremely pleased to see you in it. I believe that you care about pleasing your husband.” “Nevertheless, I know that you are a woman undefiled in deed or word. But I want to let you have a taste of the married life. I've discussed this with your parents, so you don't have to worry about me tarnishing your good name.” “At the bottom of the packet is something like an egg and a gel. I would like you to moisten your womanhood and gently insert the egg as deep as you can, my doll… ” I lifted the full material of my underwear and pulled out a pink ball from under it. It did indeed look like a small egg. I took a deep breath and placed a few drops of gel on my fingers. I opened my legs and this opened up my womanhood. I rubbed some of the gel in, but thought it might be worth doing with the toy itself. I breathed deeply to relax and do the job properly. I moaned several times, feeling my hole being expanded and trying to swallow I took a piece of paper in my hands to read the rest of the letter. “ Once you've done that, put on your belt. We don't want a sinful moment to come over you. Give the key back to your maid who is waiting outside the door.” “Then take your phone and call the number below…” “Your future husband” I was extremely uncomfortable in something inside. I was taking big steps, and it was apparently going to stay in me for an unknown amount of time. After putting on my virgin belt, I handed over the key to the maid who was indeed waiting outside the door I sat on the bed, but this position was uncomfortable and I did much better when I lay down. I picked up the phone and with my thoughts swirling I called the number indicated. I did not wait long, because the call was answered. “Um… hello? Lady Cecily?” I heard a warm male tone. Nice one. I've been waiting for your call. So I believe you did what I asked for?” “Yes, my Lord.” “Okay.. so we can start.” “Start wha, ah, ah!”  I screamed as I felt some vibrations in my womb, but almost immediately closed my mouth with one hand and the vibrations stopped. “ What's wrong, doll?” I heard the man's amusement. “Forgive me. Apparently that's too much to start with. I want you to lie down politely. Relaxed and closed eyes.” I felt the vibrations again, but were much softer. But I couldn't help but sigh. They grew stronger every moment, and that made my breathing heavy. I felt the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten and the tension grew. “Oh My…” I sigh loudly, but then the vibration stops. “What? why…” “You need to rest, little doll. I cannot let you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. It awaits you only in our life together.” “It was wonderful. Thank you… what's your name?” “You'll find out soon. Now go to sleep as a good girl.” He said, then hung up. I experienced something like this for the first time… and it's not the end, apparently. So, the life of a married woman… was also pleasurable? by Lady_Mary for Literotica

Cecily is a young woman who will get married. by Lady_Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1 I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband's adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto. Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur. I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father. My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.I nod in respect as I enter my father's study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother. He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said;  “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.” “ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile. “Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”. “My household?”  I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white. “This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.” “So… who will it be?” I ask timidly. “You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few… procedures involved.” “Procedures?” I asked. “Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well… That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.” “Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father's office. My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately… although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn't know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them. “The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me. In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said. So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee. I didn't wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me. He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed. “Lady Cecily? I'm doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.” “What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately. “Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned. I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls. “Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.” “Excuse me… I never… “ I'm at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity. “It's very nice…” I feel the touch of a stranger's single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. “I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That's good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?” “Am I sinning?”  I ask almost in a whisper. “Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places… that you shouldn't have? Don't lie. I'm a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.” “No, no, never! I swear.” I plead terrified, but almost immediately I let out a shrill scream. I feel something inside me. “Relax, it's a good sign… Your husband will have something to work on.” I watch as the doctor slides one of his fingers out of the copper.  “With God's Grace, you will not be a less fruitful woman than your mother. Undress.” I untied the 3 bows on the front of the shirt without protest. I didn't want my future spouse to think I was a troublemaker. I am far from it. I rose to a sitting position when asked to do so. “Considerable for such a young person, but very nice. 85d to my eye.” He affirms, squeezing both my breasts in his hand, which makes me squeal. “Sensitive… Your husband will be really happy. Have you eaten anything since yesterday?” “No, my mother told me not to eat anything after breakfast yesterday. The test could give bad results.” I look up as the man walks away towards his leather bag. He looks for something for a moment. “You have a wise mother. Kneel down politely on the floor.” I do so, but first I throw on and tie my petticoat. I see the doctor smile but say nothing for a long moment. He takes slow steps towards me with something shiny in his hand, but I can't see what it is. “Open your mouth wide.” he ordered. I do so immediately and unexpectedly the doctor stuffs something into my mouth, sort of like a bite block that a dentist might use, and ties it at the back of my head. My mouth opens even wider, which causes a slight pain. “Take it easy. Put your hands behind your back and let them stay there.” The man sighs somewhat amused. “Now listen to me carefully. We must see how much you can take… it's very important.” Take? I understood absolutely nothing. I wanted to talk to the man, but my mouth was opened by some metal. I could not form anything into words. I kneel impatiently as the man walks towards his bag again and firmly presses something to the wall mirror. I am unable to see it for a long moment. Then at last I see it! I have heard about this… but a long time ago I put it out of my mind. Wives had to please their husbands in many ways when they were pregnant, often doing it with their mouths, wrapping their lips tightly around the penis to please the man. The doctor came to me and helped me to stand up, leading me to a kind of test where I knelt down again, facing the mirror. “I know that the lesson programme for female marriage preparation talks about this. However, I understand that you may have forgotten. What you see is a dildo. Silicone. Here on the side.” He points his finger to the right side of the tool.  Numbers appear every few centimetres. “This will tell us what level you are starting from. Hence the spider gag in your mouth so you can get the best possible result.” I look at the man, at the reproduction of the male penis. It is so big and thick… I can't take it. Indeed, it's a good thing I haven't eaten anything… although my stomach is starting to hurt just thinking about it. “Go ahead. I won't finish this visit until you take.” I squeeze my hands together behind my back and slowly slide the dildo into my mouth. I start to choke when I feel it at the starting point of my throat and almost immediately pull my head back, causing me to cough and my eyes fill with tears. “Try again,” he orders. “I ca ca.” I want to say I can't make it, but I can't form any words and all doctor can hear is sobbing. “Take it easy. Many young women fail to do this properly.” The doctor kneels beside me. “I'll push your head and hold it for a while Okay? This might hurt a little.” I nod in acknowledgement that I agree, although the truth is that he didn't need my consent. I felt his large but gentle hands sink into my brown curly hair and after a moment he pushed my head without indicating. I'm running out of air, so my hands are almost immediately on the wall to push back. My saliva flows out of my mouth onto the floor and mixes with my tears. Soon the push subsides and I gasp loudly for air. “10 centimetres. Perfect for a start, young lady.” I feel him unbuckle the strap from the spider gag on the back of my head and pull out the dildo. “In the face of everything, I can confirm that you can marry. You can stand up, Lady Cecily.” Although I was still a little stunned, a smile appeared on my face. My parents will be proud, especially my father. “Thank you doctor and… I apologize for my behaviour.” “Nothing has happened. Fortunately, you turned out to be as obedient as you are said to be.” The man hides the instruments in his bag and pulls out a notebook. “You bleed regularly, according to your mother… The only thing I can recommend is vitamins. This will help in creating a family and in bringing new life into this world.” He speaks confidently and writes down on a piece of paper, which he seals at the end. “God bless you, young bride.” I say goodbye to the doctor, and immediately after him mother enters the chambers, before whom I bow as I did before my father to pay my respects. “The doctor has praised you. Father is delighted. So is your fiancé.” “Who is it? My fiancé?” “Daughter… These things only happen at the altar.”  She says amused by my question, which I could ask several times a day. “Now you must be clothed and this must go back to its place.” She points to my belt, my virginity belt. I have worn this attribute of maturity since I started menstruating. This has happened to every young woman in our faith. Without it, we might have sinned and tarnished the honour of the family, thus derailing any chance of a favourable marriage. It was locked with a key, and this was put in father's possession. On the wedding day it will be given to my husband. “Do married women… have to wear it too, mother?” I ask as she helps me put it on and then locks it. “Depends on their husbands. When they are in a blessed state, they usually don't, at least in the later stages of pregnancy.” I look at my mother. She was only 36 years old and pregnant, another fruit of my parents' marriage. My mother has never been without a child for more than 2 years. My parents believed that procreation was the purpose for which God created man and woman. They fulfilled it scrupulously. The Church also had this as the highest value of human life, especially of a woman. “Your underwear needs to be replaced. This one is too childish for a married woman.” mother says. “The same with your dresses… but here your spouse will have a word.” “I will put on your corset. A young married woman has no right to hunch over.” Mother pulls out my white Victorian-style corset from the wardrobe, to which I obediently allow myself to adorn and tie it, even though it was an uncomfortable piece of clothing. “Can it be a little looser, please?” “Wait a minute. You will soon get used to it. Look here, my dear.” I turn to the mirror & see my image. No one dreams of such a waist. I smile because I would be lying if I didn't like seeing how small I can be at this point on my body. “Will my sister Elizabeth be coming to my nuptials?” “It is hard to say. She is expecting a baby. It is a delicate time for a woman. You will see for yourself soon enough.” A woman puts a white dress with embroidered sunflowers on me. My shoulders were prominent, so I was a bit surprised by this choice by my parent. However, I immediately understood that this little boldness was meant to imply that I was expecting the wedding. Exactly. Wedding! “So when? When will it happen?” I ask. “In a few days… Our faith wants a girl to become a woman on her fertile days, preferably on those… the most important ones. Yours is coming.” For days afterwards, preparations were underway for the big event. The family and the servants were preparing for my wedding. My belongings were packed, although most of my clothes remained. I was assured that a wardrobe tailor-made for a married woman awaited me in my new home. Mostly my cosmetics, bedding and a small collection of jewelry were completed. I was obliged to go to bed early. Like a younger sibling, I was supposed to be in bed by 8.30 p.m. already. All this so that I would not be a tired bride. I was also taught the art of make-up and made sure my body was smooth. Husbands did not tolerate unnecessary hair. “Lady Cecily, a box for you.” a servant said from the hall. “A box? At this hour?” I ask surprised when the maid puts the box on my bed. It was of considerable size and wrapped in cobalt ribbon.  I have never received a package before bedtime. “Thank you. You may go.”  I had just come out of the bath wearing my robe and my belt was off for the bath. I waited until I was alone and with great excitement began to open… a gift? I guess you could call it that. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid. My God… what… white lace underwear appeared before my eyes. I took one part, which was supposed to be panties, but… it didn't cover anything. Only after a while did I see a small card. I take it in my hands with a trembling heart. “Hello My Spouse-to-be. I'm sure you're surprised by the contents of the package. Consider it a gift for the night that will make us soon married.” “I will be extremely pleased to see you in it. I believe that you care about pleasing your husband.” “Nevertheless, I know that you are a woman undefiled in deed or word. But I want to let you have a taste of the married life. I've discussed this with your parents, so you don't have to worry about me tarnishing your good name.” “At the bottom of the packet is something like an egg and a gel. I would like you to moisten your womanhood and gently insert the egg as deep as you can, my doll… ” I lifted the full material of my underwear and pulled out a pink ball from under it. It did indeed look like a small egg. I took a deep breath and placed a few drops of gel on my fingers. I opened my legs and this opened up my womanhood. I rubbed some of the gel in, but thought it might be worth doing with the toy itself. I breathed deeply to relax and do the job properly. I moaned several times, feeling my hole being expanded and trying to swallow I took a piece of paper in my hands to read the rest of the letter. “ Once you've done that, put on your belt. We don't want a sinful moment to come over you. Give the key back to your maid who is waiting outside the door.” “Then take your phone and call the number below…” “Your future husband” I was extremely uncomfortable in something inside. I was taking big steps, and it was apparently going to stay in me for an unknown amount of time. After putting on my virgin belt, I handed over the key to the maid who was indeed waiting outside the door I sat on the bed, but this position was uncomfortable and I did much better when I lay down. I picked up the phone and with my thoughts swirling I called the number indicated. I did not wait long, because the call was answered. “Um… hello? Lady Cecily?” I heard a warm male tone. Nice one. I've been waiting for your call. So I believe you did what I asked for?” “Yes, my Lord.” “Okay.. so we can start.” “Start wha, ah, ah!”  I screamed as I felt some vibrations in my womb, but almost immediately closed my mouth with one hand and the vibrations stopped. “ What's wrong, doll?” I heard the man's amusement. “Forgive me. Apparently that's too much to start with. I want you to lie down politely. Relaxed and closed eyes.” I felt the vibrations again, but were much softer. But I couldn't help but sigh. They grew stronger every moment, and that made my breathing heavy. I felt the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten and the tension grew. “Oh My…” I sigh loudly, but then the vibration stops. “What? why…” “You need to rest, little doll. I cannot let you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. It awaits you only in our life together.” “It was wonderful. Thank you… what's your name?” “You'll find out soon. Now go to sleep as a good girl.” He said, then hung up. I experienced something like this for the first time… and it's not the end, apparently. So, the life of a married woman… was also pleasurable? by Lady_Mary for Literotica

Cecily is a young woman who will get married. by Lady Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1 I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband's adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto. [[MORE]]  Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur.  I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father. My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.  I nod in respect as I enter my father's study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother.  He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said;  “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.” “ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile.  “Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”. “My household?”  I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white. “This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.” “So... who will it be?” I ask timidly. “You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few... procedures involved.” “Procedures?” I asked. “Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well... That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.” “Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father's office. My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately... although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn't know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them. “The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me. In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said. So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee. I didn't wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me. He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed. “Lady Cecily? I'm doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.” “What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately. “Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned. I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls. “Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.” “Excuse me... I never... “ I'm at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity. “It's very nice...” I feel the touch of a stranger's single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. “I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That's good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?” “Am I sinning?”  I ask almost in a whisper. “Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places... that you shouldn't have? Don't lie. I'm a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.” “No, no, never! I swear.” I plead terrified, but almost immediately I let out a shrill scream. I feel something inside me. “Relax, it's a good sign... Your husband will have something to work on.” I watch as the doctor slides one of his fingers out of the copper.  “With God's Grace, you will not be a less fruitful woman than your mother. Undress.” I untied the 3 bows on the front of the shirt without protest. I didn't want my future spouse to think I was a troublemaker. I am far from it. I rose to a sitting position when asked to do so. “Considerable for such a young person, but very nice. 85d to my eye.” He affirms, squeezing both my breasts in his hand, which makes me squeal. “Sensitive... Your husband will be really happy. Have you eaten anything since yesterday?” “No, my mother told me not to eat anything after breakfast yesterday. The test could give bad results.” I look up as the man walks away towards his leather bag. He looks for something for a moment. “You have a wise mother. Kneel down politely on the floor.” I do so, but first I throw on and tie my petticoat. I see the doctor smile but say nothing for a long moment. He takes slow steps towards me with something shiny in his hand, but I can't see what it is. “Open your mouth wide.” he ordered.  I do so immediately and unexpectedly the doctor stuffs something into my mouth, sort of like a bite block that a dentist might use, and ties it at the back of my head. My mouth opens even wider, which causes a slight pain.  “Take it easy. Put your hands behind your back and let them stay there.” The man sighs somewhat amused. “Now listen to me carefully. We must see how much you can take... it's very important.” Take? I understood absolutely nothing. I wanted to talk to the man, but my mouth was opened by some metal. I could not form anything into words. I kneel impatiently as the man walks towards his bag again and firmly presses something to the wall mirror. I am unable to see it for a long moment. Then at last I see it! I have heard about this... but a long time ago I put it out of my mind. Wives had to please their husbands in many ways when they were pregnant, often doing it with their mouths, wrapping their lips tightly around the penis to please the man. The doctor came to me and helped me to stand up, leading me to a kind of test where I knelt down again, facing the mirror. “I know that the lesson programme for female marriage preparation talks about this. However, I understand that you may have forgotten. What you see is a dildo. Silicone. Here on the side.” He points his finger to the right side of the tool.  Numbers appear every few centimetres.  “This will tell us what level you are starting from. Hence the spider gag in your mouth so you can get the best possible result.” I look at the man, at the reproduction of the male penis. It is so big and thick... I can't take it. Indeed, it's a good thing I haven't eaten anything... although my stomach is starting to hurt just thinking about it. “Go ahead. I won't finish this visit until you take.” I squeeze my hands together behind my back and slowly slide the dildo into my mouth. I start to choke when I feel it at the starting point of my throat and almost immediately pull my head back, causing me to cough and my eyes fill with tears. “Try again,” he orders. “I ca ca.” I want to say I can't make it, but I can't form any words and all doctor can hear is sobbing. “Take it easy. Many young women fail to do this properly.” The doctor kneels beside me. “I'll push your head and hold it for a while Okay? This might hurt a little.” I nod in acknowledgement that I agree, although the truth is that he didn't need my consent. I felt his large but gentle hands sink into my brown curly hair and after a moment he pushed my head without indicating. I'm running out of air, so my hands are almost immediately on the wall to push back. My saliva flows out of my mouth onto the floor and mixes with my tears. Soon the push subsides and I gasp loudly for air. “10 centimetres. Perfect for a start, young lady.” I feel him unbuckle the strap from the spider gag on the back of my head and pull out the dildo.  “In the face of everything, I can confirm that you can marry. You can stand up, Lady Cecily.” Although I was still a little stunned, a smile appeared on my face. My parents will be proud, especially my father. “Thank you doctor and... I apologize for my behaviour.” “Nothing has happened. Fortunately, you turned out to be as obedient as you are said to be.” The man hides the instruments in his bag and pulls out a notebook. “You bleed regularly, according to your mother... The only thing I can recommend is vitamins. This will help in creating a family and in bringing new life into this world.” He speaks confidently and writes down on a piece of paper, which he seals at the end. “God bless you, young bride.” I say goodbye to the doctor, and immediately after him mother enters the chambers, before whom I bow as I did before my father to pay my respects. “The doctor has praised you. Father is delighted. So is your fiancé.” “Who is it? My fiancé?”  “Daughter... These things only happen at the altar.”  She says amused by my question, which I could ask several times a day. “Now you must be clothed and this must go back to its place.” She points to my belt, my virginity belt. I have worn this attribute of maturity since I started menstruating. This has happened to every young woman in our faith. Without it, we might have sinned and tarnished the honour of the family, thus derailing any chance of a favourable marriage. It was locked with a key, and this was put in father's possession. On the wedding day it will be given to my husband.  “Do married women... have to wear it too, mother?” I ask as she helps me put it on and then locks it.  “Depends on their husbands. When they are in a blessed state, they usually don't, at least in the later stages of pregnancy.” I look at my mother. She was only 36 years old and pregnant, another fruit of my parents' marriage. My mother has never been without a child for more than 2 years. My parents believed that procreation was the purpose for which God created man and woman. They fulfilled it scrupulously. The Church also had this as the highest value of human life, especially of a woman. “Your underwear needs to be replaced. This one is too childish for a married woman.” mother says. “The same with your dresses... but here your spouse will have a word.”  “I will put on your corset. A young married woman has no right to hunch over.” Mother pulls out my white Victorian-style corset from the wardrobe, to which I obediently allow myself to adorn and tie it, even though it was an uncomfortable piece of clothing.  “Can it be a little looser, please?”  “Wait a minute. You will soon get used to it. Look here, my dear.” I turn to the mirror & see my image. No one dreams of such a waist. I smile because I would be lying if I didn't like seeing how small I can be at this point on my body.  “Will my sister Elizabeth be coming to my nuptials?”  “It is hard to say. She is expecting a baby. It is a delicate time for a woman. You will see for yourself soon enough.” A woman puts a white dress with embroidered sunflowers on me. My shoulders were prominent, so I was a bit surprised by this choice by my parent. However, I immediately understood that this little boldness was meant to imply that I was expecting the wedding. Exactly. Wedding!  “So when? When will it happen?” I ask.  “In a few days... Our faith wants a girl to become a woman on her fertile days, preferably on those... the most important ones. Yours is coming.” For days afterwards, preparations were underway for the big event. The family and the servants were preparing for my wedding. My belongings were packed, although most of my clothes remained. I was assured that a wardrobe tailor-made for a married woman awaited me in my new home. Mostly my cosmetics, bedding and a small collection of jewelry were completed. I was obliged to go to bed early. Like a younger sibling, I was supposed to be in bed by 8.30 p.m. already. All this so that I would not be a tired bride. I was also taught the art of make-up and made sure my body was smooth. Husbands did not tolerate unnecessary hair. “Lady Cecily, a box for you.” a servant said from the hall.  “A box? At this hour?” I ask surprised when the maid puts the box on my bed. It was of considerable size and wrapped in cobalt ribbon.  I have never received a package before bedtime. “Thank you. You may go.”  I had just come out of the bath wearing my robe and my belt was off for the bath. I waited until I was alone and with great excitement began to open... a gift? I guess you could call it that. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid.  My God... what... white lace underwear appeared before my eyes. I took one part, which was supposed to be panties, but... it didn't cover anything. Only after a while did I see a small card. I take it in my hands with a trembling heart. "Hello My Spouse-to-be. I'm sure you're surprised by the contents of the package. Consider it a gift for the night that will make us soon married.”   “I will be extremely pleased to see you in it. I believe that you care about pleasing your husband.” “Nevertheless, I know that you are a woman undefiled in deed or word. But I want to let you have a taste of the married life. I've discussed this with your parents, so you don't have to worry about me tarnishing your good name.” “At the bottom of the packet is something like an egg and a gel. I would like you to moisten your womanhood and gently insert the egg as deep as you can, my doll... " I lifted the full material of my underwear and pulled out a pink ball from under it. It did indeed look like a small egg. I took a deep breath and placed a few drops of gel on my fingers. I opened my legs and this opened up my womanhood. I rubbed some of the gel in, but thought it might be worth doing with the toy itself. I breathed deeply to relax and do the job properly. I moaned several times, feeling my hole being expanded and trying to swallow I took a piece of paper in my hands to read the rest of the letter. " Once you've done that, put on your belt. We don't want a sinful moment to come over you. Give the key back to your maid who is waiting outside the door.” “Then take your phone and call the number below...” “Your future husband" I was extremely uncomfortable in something inside. I was taking big steps, and it was apparently going to stay in me for an unknown amount of time. After putting on my virgin belt, I handed over the key to the maid who was indeed waiting outside the door I sat on the bed, but this position was uncomfortable and I did much better when I lay down. I picked up the phone and with my thoughts swirling I called the number indicated. I did not wait long, because the call was answered.  “Um... hello? Lady Cecily?” I heard a warm male tone. Nice one. I've been waiting for your call. So I believe you did what I asked for?”  “Yes, my Lord.”  “Okay.. so we can start.”  “Start wha, ah, ah!”  I screamed as I felt some vibrations in my womb, but almost immediately closed my mouth with one hand and the vibrations stopped. “ What's wrong, doll?” I heard the man's amusement. “Forgive me. Apparently that's too much to start with. I want you to lie down politely. Relaxed and closed eyes.” I felt the vibrations again, but were much softer. But I couldn't help but sigh. They grew stronger every moment, and that made my breathing heavy. I felt the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten and the tension grew.  “Oh My...” I sigh loudly, but then the vibration stops. “What? why...” “You need to rest, little doll. I cannot let you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. It awaits you only in our life together.”  “It was wonderful. Thank you... what's your name?” “You'll find out soon. Now go to sleep as a good girl.” He said, then hung up. I experienced something like this for the first time... and it's not the end, apparently. So, the life of a married woman... was also pleasurable? By Lady_Mary for Literotica

Cecily is a young woman who will get married.by Lady_Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband's adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto.Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur.I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father.My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.I nod in respect as I enter my father's study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother.He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said; “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.”“ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile.“Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”.“My household?” I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white.“This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.”“So… who will it be?” I ask timidly.“You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few… procedures involved.”“Procedures?” I asked.“Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well… That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.”“Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father's office.My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately… although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn't know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them.“The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me.In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said.So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee.I didn't wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me.He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed.“Lady Cecily? I'm doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.”“What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately.“Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned.I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls.“Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.”“Excuse me… I never… “ I'm at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity.“It's very nice…” I feel the touch of a stranger's single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. “I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That's good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?”“Am I sinning?” I ask almost in a whisper.“Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places… that you shouldn't have? Don't lie. I'm a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.”“No, no, never! I swear.” I plead terrified, but almost immediately I let out a shrill scream. I feel something inside me.“Relax, it's a good sign… Your husband will have something to work on.” I watch as the doctor slides one of his fingers out of the copper. “With God's Grace, you will not be a less fruitful woman than your mother. Undress.”I untied the 3 bows on the front of the shirt without protest. I didn't want my future spouse to think I was a troublemaker. I am far from it. I rose to a sitting position when asked to do so.“Considerable for such a young person, but very nice. 85d to my eye.” He affirms, squeezing both my breasts in his hand, which makes me squeal. “Sensitive… Your husband will be really happy. Have you eaten anything since yesterday?”“No, my mother told me not to eat anything after breakfast yesterday. The test could give bad results.”I look up as the man walks away towards his leather bag. He looks for something for a moment.“You have a wise mother. Kneel down politely on the floor.”I do so, but first I throw on and tie my petticoat. I see the doctor smile but say nothing for a long moment. He takes slow steps towards me with something shiny in his hand, but I can't see what it is.“Open your mouth wide.” he ordered.I do so immediately and unexpectedly the doctor stuffs something into my mouth, sort of like a bite block that a dentist might use, and ties it at the back of my head. My mouth opens even wider, which causes a slight pain. “Take it easy. Put your hands behind your back and let them stay there.” The man sighs somewhat amused. “Now listen to me carefully. We must see how much you can take… it's very important.”Take? I understood absolutely nothing. I wanted to talk to the man, but my mouth was opened by some metal. I could not form anything into words. I kneel impatiently as the man walks towards his bag again and firmly presses something to the wall mirror. I am unable to see it for a long moment. Then at last I see it! I have heard about this… but a long time ago I put it out of my mind. Wives had to please their husbands in many ways when they were pregnant, often doing it with their mouths, wrapping their lips tightly around the penis to please the man. The doctor came to me and helped me to stand up, leading me to a kind of test where I knelt down again, facing the mirror.“I know that the lesson programme for female marriage preparation talks about this. However, I understand that you may have forgotten. What you see is a dildo. Silicone. Here on the side.” He points his finger to the right side of the tool. Numbers appear every few centimetres. “This will tell us what level you are starting from. Hence the spider gag in your mouth so you can get the best possible result.”I look at the man, at the reproduction of the male penis. It is so big and thick… I can't take it. Indeed, it's a good thing I haven't eaten anything… although my stomach is starting to hurt just thinking about it.“Go ahead. I won't finish this visit until you take.”I squeeze my hands together behind my back and slowly slide the dildo into my mouth. I start to choke when I feel it at the starting point of my throat and almost immediately pull my head back, causing me to cough and my eyes fill with tears.“Try again,” he orders.“I ca ca.” I want to say I can't make it, but I can't form any words and all doctor can hear is sobbing.“Take it easy. Many young women fail to do this properly.” The doctor kneels beside me. “I'll push your head and hold it for a while Okay? This might hurt a little.”I nod in acknowledgement that I agree, although the truth is that he didn't need my consent. I felt his large but gentle hands sink into my brown curly hair and after a moment he pushed my head without indicating. I'm running out of air, so my hands are almost immediately on the wall to push back. My saliva flows out of my mouth onto the floor and mixes with my tears. Soon the push subsides and I gasp loudly for air.“10 centimetres. Perfect for a start, young lady.” I feel him unbuckle the strap from the spider gag on the back of my head and pull out the dildo. “In the face of everything, I can confirm that you can marry. You can stand up, Lady Cecily.”Although I was still a little stunned, a smile appeared on my face. My parents will be proud, especially my father.“Thank you doctor and… I apologize for my behaviour.”“Nothing has happened. Fortunately, you turned out to be as obedient as you are said to be.” The man hides the instruments in his bag and pulls out a notebook. “You bleed regularly, according to your mother… The only thing I can recommend is vitamins. This will help in creating a family and in bringing new life into this world.” He speaks confidently and writes down on a piece of paper, which he seals at the end. “God bless you, young bride.”I say goodbye to the doctor, and immediately after him mother enters the chambers, before whom I bow as I did before my father to pay my respects.“The doctor has praised you. Father is delighted. So is your fiancé.”“Who is it? My fiancé?”“Daughter… These things only happen at the altar.” She says amused by my question, which I could ask several times a day. “Now you must be clothed and this must go back to its place.” She points to my belt, my virginity belt.I have worn this attribute of maturity since I started menstruating. This has happened to every young woman in our faith. Without it, we might have sinned and tarnished the honour of the family, thus derailing any chance of a favourable marriage. It was locked with a key, and this was put in father's possession. On the wedding day it will be given to my husband.“Do married women… have to wear it too, mother?” I ask as she helps me put it on and then locks it.“Depends on their husbands. When they are in a blessed state, they usually don't, at least in the later stages of pregnancy.”I look at my mother. She was only 36 years old and pregnant, another fruit of my parents' marriage. My mother has never been without a child for more than 2 years. My parents believed that procreation was the purpose for which God created man and woman. They fulfilled it scrupulously. The Church also had this as the highest value of human life, especially of a woman.“Your underwear needs to be replaced. This one is too childish for a married woman.” mother says. “The same with your dresses… but here your spouse will have a word.”“I will put on your corset. A young married woman has no right to hunch over.” Mother pulls out my white Victorian-style corset from the wardrobe, to which I obediently allow myself to adorn and tie it, even though it was an uncomfortable piece of clothing.“Can it be a little looser, please?”“Wait a minute. You will soon get used to it. Look here, my dear.” I turn to the mirror & see my image. No one dreams of such a waist.I smile because I would be lying if I didn't like seeing how small I can be at this point on my body.“Will my sister Elizabeth be coming to my nuptials?”“It is hard to say. She is expecting a baby. It is a delicate time for a woman. You will see for yourself soon enough.”A woman puts a white dress with embroidered sunflowers on me. My shoulders were prominent, so I was a bit surprised by this choice by my parent. However, I immediately understood that this little boldness was meant to imply that I was expecting the wedding. Exactly. Wedding!“So when? When will it happen?” I ask.“In a few days… Our faith wants a girl to become a woman on her fertile days, preferably on those… the most important ones. Yours is coming.”For days afterwards, preparations were underway for the big event. The family and the servants were preparing for my wedding.My belongings were packed, although most of my clothes remained. I was assured that a wardrobe tailor-made for a married woman awaited me in my new home. Mostly my cosmetics, bedding and a small collection of jewelry were completed.I was obliged to go to bed early. Like a younger sibling, I was supposed to be in bed by 8.30 p.m. already. All this so that I would not be a tired bride. I was also taught the art of make-up and made sure my body was smooth. Husbands did not tolerate unnecessary hair.“Lady Cecily, a box for you.” a servant said from the hall. “A box? At this hour?” I ask surprised when the maid puts the box on my bed. It was of considerable size and wrapped in cobalt ribbon. I have never received a package before bedtime. “Thank you. You may go.” I had just come out of the bath wearing my robe and my belt was off for the bath.I waited until I was alone and with great excitement began to open… a gift? I guess you could call it that. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid.My God… what… white lace underwear appeared before my eyes. I took one part, which was supposed to be panties, but… it didn't cover anything.Only after a while did I see a small card. I take it in my hands with a trembling heart.“Hello My Spouse-to-be. I'm sure you're surprised by the contents of the package. Consider it a gift for the night that will make us soon married.”“I will be extremely pleased to see you in it. I believe that you care about pleasing your husband.”“Nevertheless, I know that you are a woman undefiled in deed or word. But I want to let you have a taste of the married life. I've discussed this with your parents, so you don't have to worry about me tarnishing your good name.”“At the bottom of the packet is something like an egg and a gel. I would like you to moisten your womanhood and gently insert the egg as deep as you can, my doll… ”I lifted the full material of my underwear and pulled out a pink ball from under it. It did indeed look like a small egg. I took a deep breath and placed a few drops of gel on my fingers. I opened my legs and this opened up my womanhood. I rubbed some of the gel in, but thought it might be worth doing with the toy itself. I breathed deeply to relax and do the job properly. I moaned several times, feeling my hole being expanded and trying to swallow I took a piece of paper in my hands to read the rest of the letter.“ Once you've done that, put on your belt. We don't want a sinful moment to come over you. Give the key back to your maid who is waiting outside the door.”“Then take your phone and call the number below…”“Your future husband”I was extremely uncomfortable in something inside. I was taking big steps, and it was apparently going to stay in me for an unknown amount of time. After putting on my virgin belt, I handed over the key to the maid who was indeed waiting outside the doorI sat on the bed, but this position was uncomfortable and I did much better when I lay down. I picked up the phone and with my thoughts swirling I called the number indicated. I did not wait long, because the call was answered.“Um… hello? Lady Cecily?” I heard a warm male tone. Nice one.I've been waiting for your call. So I believe you did what I asked for?”“Yes, my Lord.”“Okay.. so we can start.”“Start wha, ah, ah!” I screamed as I felt some vibrations in my womb, but almost immediately closed my mouth with one hand and the vibrations stopped.“ What's wrong, doll?” I heard the man's amusement. “Forgive me. Apparently that's too much to start with. I want you to lie down politely. Relaxed and closed eyes.”I felt the vibrations again, but were much softer. But I couldn't help but sigh.They grew stronger every moment, and that made my breathing heavy. I felt the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten and the tension grew.“Oh My…” I sigh loudly, but then the vibration stops. “What? why…”“You need to rest, little doll. I cannot let you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. It awaits you only in our life together.”“It was wonderful. Thank you… what's your name?”“You'll find out soon. Now go to sleep as a good girl.” He said, then hung up. I experienced something like this for the first time… and it's not the end, apparently. So, the life of a married woman… was also pleasurable?by Lady_Mary for Literotica

It's time to set the record straight with Lady Mary Tudor! Was she really bloody Mary, was she as terrible as some history books make her out to be? Join me in conversation with Amanda Schiavo as we dive into the Tudor world and set the record straight. We'll also get a peek into her incredible historical fiction In Her Own Right You can find Amanda here! Buy the Book https://www.blackrosewriting.com/historicaladventure/inherownright TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@authoramandaschiavo?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc ⭐️⭐️Calm History!⭐️⭐️ Try the new podcast, Calm History: https://www.calmhistory.com/ Want more For the Love of History? Patreon  https://www.patreon.com/fortheloveofhistorypodcast?fan_landing=true&view_as=public Instagram  https://www.instagram.com/fortheloveof_historypodcast/?hl=en Webstite  https://www.fortheloveofhistorypod.com/about TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@4theloveofhistory Spotify  https://open.spotify.com/show/6SjwlXC5e8uvPxXE8siyEZ?si=1f813135bad1471c Merch Store  https://www.bonfire.com/store/for-the-love-of-history/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The panel reads three poems by Lady Mary Wroth, from The Countess of Montgomery's Urania and Pamphilia to Amphilanthus, discussing their context, social impact, and the paradox of their genre conventionality but also Elizabethan authorial radicalism.Continue reading

12/27/23 - We'll discuss growing closer to our Blessed Mother Mary and our Eucharistic Lord Jesus, along with examples from the life of St. John the Apostle, apparitions of our Lady, and personal testimonies. Please consider making a donation of any size by calling 1-877-711-8500 or online at thestationofthecross.com

I couldn't stay away from Carsely, so I decided that I wouldn't. With a whole series to choose from I decided to return to the small Cotswold Village with book 31 in the series, Hot to Trot. Agatha and Charles are in trouble, and it's not the fun kind. Charles's new and admittedly unbearable young wife, Mary, has been found dead and of course, CI Wilkes is placing Agatha on the suspect list. Agatha knows that she has to solve the murder before Charles is jailed for killing his bride...but the suspect list is long and time is growing short. With the help of her friends, she will find out who killed Lady Mary and get an innocent man free before things go even more wrong. Find out what I thought about this 2020 cosy mystery release, and you know I won't reveal the ending! Featured episodes Cosy mystery playlist There Goes the Bride A Spoonful of Poison Dead on Target Iron Flame Episode links Instagram Being Bookish Website

Dead Love Has Chains by Mary Elizabeth Braddon audiobook. We see another facet of Mary Elizabeth Braddon's amazing talent in Dead Love Has Chains, written in her seventies. Focusing on character and human psychology rather than detection and crime, this is one of her most interesting novels. Pregnant and unmarried Irene Thelliston is sent home from India to live with her Aunt in Ireland. On her sea voyage she reveals her secret to Lady Mary Harling who swears to keep her confidence. Several years later to the horror of Lady Mary she becomes engaged to her son Conrad who has his own rather questionable past. Desperate to prevent this union, will Lady Mary break her oath?? When Irene's former lover returns threatening to come between her and Conrad, will their love prevail?????? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

"He's nice. He likes cars, and he's mad about you. I rest my case." - says Tom Branson to Lady Mary about Henry Talbot. Initially, I figured… meh! - Downton Abbey is going to be some stuffy pre-war British soap drama, it'll be just OK, I'll give it an episode or two. But I found myself rather enamored by all aspects of it. The show has its moments of exaggerated drama and bits of upstairs/downstairs… but each episode is packed and feels like a separate movie and not a serial or episodic story. Oh yea, and there's lot of interesting cars in there too!  Articles from the TL:DR mini-series can be found on gtmotorsports.org; and if you'd like early access to these minisodes, be sure to check out our Patreon. ======================================================================== Check out our membership program and go VIP at: https://www.patreon.com/gtmotorsports Other cool stuff: https://linkin.bio/grantouringmotorsports GTM = Years of racing, wrenching and Motorsports experience brings together a top notch collection of knowledge, stories and information. #everyonehasastory #gtmbreakfix - gtmotorsports.org

In this week's episode of Downton Abbey, the Crawley family and the servants prepare for the annual flower show. But even as they enjoy the festivities, they are also dealing with some serious challenges. Isobel is upset to learn that Countess Violet has won the Grantham Cup for Best Bloom for the past 10 years, even though Molesley's father grows the best roses. Violet denies any wrongdoing, but Isobel is not convinced. Isobel is a kind and compassionate woman, and she believes that Molesley's father deserves to win the award. She is determined to find out the truth, and she sets out to investigate. Daisy is still shaken by the events of the previous episode, when she witnessed the death of Mr. Pamuk in Lady Mary's room. O'Brien and Thomas continue to scheme against her, and they try to get her to tell Lady Edith about Mr. Pamuk's death. Daisy is scared and confused, and she doesn't know who to trust. She is afraid that if she tells anyone what she knows, she will be blamed for Mr. Pamuk's death. Bates is framed for stealing a snuff box by O'Brien and Thomas. Anna and Bates are able to clear Bates' name, but the incident leaves them shaken. Bates is a good man, and he is innocent of the crime. But O'Brien and Thomas are determined to ruin his life. They will stop at nothing to get what they want. Lady Mary is still dealing with the fallout from Mr. Pamuk's death. She is worried that her reputation has been ruined, and she is reluctant to marry Matthew Crawley. Lady Mary is a strong and independent woman, but she has been through a lot in the past few weeks. She is not sure if she is ready to move on with her life. Sir Anthony Strallan arrives at Downton Abbey as a potential suitor for Lady Mary. He is everything that Matthew is not: old, stuffy, and not very attractive. Lady Mary is not interested in him, but her mother, Lady Cora, is determined to see her married. Lady Cora is a loving and supportive mother, but she can be a bit overbearing at times. She wants what is best for her daughter, but she needs to learn to let her go. The episode ends with the flower show. Isobel is overjoyed when Molesley's father wins the Grantham Cup. Lady Mary is also happy, as she realizes that she does not need to marry Sir Anthony Strallan to be happy. She can be happy on her own terms.

Welcome to the Downton Abbey Podcast, where we recap and discuss every episode of the hit period drama. Today we're talking about Series 1 Episode 3, which aired on October 10, 2010 on ITV and January 16, 2011 on PBS. •  This episode is also known as "The One With Pamuk", because it features one of the most shocking and scandalous events in Downton Abbey history: the death of a Turkish diplomat in Lady Mary's bed. •  The episode begins with the arrival of Evelyn Napier, a handsome and wealthy suitor for Mary, who brings along his friend Kemal Pamuk, a dashing and charming Turkish attaché. Mary is instantly smitten with Pamuk, who flirts with her at every opportunity, while ignoring the jealous Napier. •  Meanwhile, downstairs, Gwen, one of the maids, reveals her ambition to become a secretary and has bought a typewriter to practice her skills. She receives a letter from a potential employer, but hides it from the rest of the staff. Sybil, the youngest and most progressive Crawley sister, discovers Gwen's secret and offers to help her with her application and reference. •  At night, Pamuk sneaks into Mary's bedroom and seduces her. She initially resists, but then gives in to his advances. However, in the middle of their passionate encounter, he suffers a fatal heart attack and dies in her bed. Mary is horrified and calls for her mother Cora, who enlists the help of Anna, the head housemaid, to move the body back to Pamuk's room. They manage to do so without being noticed by most of the household, except for Daisy, the kitchen maid, who sees them carrying the corpse. •  The next day, Pamuk's death is announced as a natural cause and his body is taken away. Mary is traumatised by the experience and fears that her reputation will be ruined if the truth ever comes out. Cora and Anna assure her that they will keep her secret, but they are also worried about the consequences. Daisy is confused and frightened by what she saw, but keeps quiet for now. •  The episode also features several subplots involving other characters: Bates tries to cure his limp with a painful device that Mrs. Hughes helps him remove; Edith spends a pleasant day with Matthew, who is still oblivious to her feelings for him; and O'Brien schemes to expose Gwen's secretarial aspirations and sabotage her chances. What did you think of this episode? Did you like Pamuk as a character? Do you sympathise with Mary or blame her for her actions? How do you think this scandal will affect her future? Let us know your thoughts in the comments or on social media. And don't forget to tune in next time for Series 1 Episode 4. Thanks for listening!

Part 6-- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Part 5-- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Part 4 -- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Part 3 -- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Part 2 -- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Part 1 -- Crazy Bit** Episode; Jill Says Joe Has Plans for YOU; Baby Small Talk Defends Dr. Death; Yellen Bag Lady; Mary Pete + MoreSIMPLY PUT -- We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...

Helping to eradicate smallpox. Experiencing bewildering treatment in an Ottoman bathouse - a hamman. Having a failed relationship with Clotworthy Skeffington. The story of the life of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu is extraordinary. Listen to William Dalrymple and Anita Anand tell it. IRC link: https://www.rescue.org/uk  DEC link: https://donation.dec.org.uk/turkey-syria-earthquake-appeal LRB Empire offer: lrb.me/empire Twitter: @Empirepoduk Goalhangerpodcasts.com Producer: Callum Hill Exec Producer: Jack Davenport Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Today's Tudor quote is from the eight-year-old King Edward VI, who was actually Prince Edward at the time.  Historian and author Claire Ridgway shares a letter he wrote to his half-sister, the Lady Mary ( Mary I).

Lady Mary Wroth is often considered the first female writer in England to publish a work of prose under her own name. But her romance, The Countess of Montgomery's Urania, would lead to scandal for more reasons than just a female author... Support Noble Blood: — Bonus episodes, stickers, and scripts on Patreon — Merch! — Order Dana's book, 'Anatomy: A Love Story' and pre-order its sequel 'Immortality: A Love Story'See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Tess gives a talk on Marian Apparitions as part of the Women in the Bible series. *Disclaimer:* The audio gets more clear about halfway through the recording (about 8:54).

Author of the first prose romance published in England in 1621, her reputation at court was ruined by her thinly veiled autobiographical writing. Visit the family home, Penshurst Place in Kent, and you can see Lady Mary Wroth's portrait, but New Generation Thinker Nandini Das says you can also find her in the pages of her book The Countess of Montgomery's Urania, which places centre stage women who "love and are not afraid to love." Scandal led to her withdrawing it from sale and herself from public life. If you are interested in more discussions about women writers you can find an Arts & Ideas podcast episode called Why We Read and the Idea of the Woman Writer which includes a discussion of both Anne Bronte and Anne Dowriche. And there is a collection of programmes about women writers on the Free Thinking programme website Producer: Torquil MacLeod

Michelle Dockery joins the podcast to talk about her role as Kate Woodcroft in the six-part series Anatomy of a Scandal. Dockery explains how she prepared to play a barrister, details getting to work with co-star Sienna Miller, and breaks down a few of her favorite scenes from the series.   She also reflects on the surreal experience of gaining international fame as Downton Abbey's  Lady Mary, shares details on her and Michael Fox's recently released album "The Watching Silence " and tells listeners what has been bringing her joy these days. 

Host Jacqueline Coley talks to Michelle Dockery about the development and trajectory of her character Lady Mary, including the great fun of playing a character with a very sharp tongue and an occasional taste for the jugular, and the most scandalous secret of the entire series. Don't miss the new film Downton Abbey: A New Era. The motion picture event returns this Spring.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.