Podcasts about Matron

Yes Attrick lovers! The Mighty Albo storms Election Beach, then takes the headland! And that's not the only election for Lillian, Mavis and Gertrude to admire. Analovski's got a bit of post-election constipation - too much standing in line ... So, Jerry dishes up a coupla helpings of cranberries. Does the trick every time. Matron!!! Air freshener to the East Wing!

The party barely survived their encounter with The Matron, and now must find their way out of the facility with danger lurking around every corner... ---The world of Vigil is on the brink of a new age... In the war-torn lands of Sindar, city-states clash for dominance. The once-mighty Gammalast Magocracy stirs in the West. Darkness creeps from the Ashen Wastes and the Northern Baern's untamed wilderness hides secret threats. Our story began in Candorne's capital Karden, a city simmering with greed and rebellion. Our heroes were chosen, after proving their worth, to join The Infinite Alliance, a secret group of individuals led by Ludomir Nostrov (The Immortal Man), devoted to protecting Vigil from evil and darkness.The party's first official quest for The Alliance is to investigate why two of the divining rods which allow The Alliance to foresee evil and corruption are no longer functioning...---Vigil is a homebrew actual play campaign using DnD 5e (with some homebrew rules).The party: ✨ Andromeda, Aasimar, Level 5 Wizard, School of Divination☀️ Augustus Warren, Harengon, Level 5 Druid, Circle of Wildfire

The party come face to face with The Matron of Sanctuary... — The world of Vigil is on the brink of a new age... In the war-torn lands of Sindar, city-states clash for dominance. The once-mighty Gammalast Magocracy stirs in the West. Darkness creeps from the Ashen Wastes and the Northern Baern's untamed wilderness hides secret threats. Our story began in Candorne's capital Karden, a city simmering with greed and rebellion. Our heroes were chosen, after proving their worth, to join The Infinite Alliance, a secret group of individuals led by Ludomir Nostrov (The Immortal Man), devoted to protecting Vigil from evil and darkness.The party's first official quest for The Alliance is to investigate why two of the divining rods which allow The Alliance to foresee evil and corruption are no longer functioning...---Vigil is a homebrew actual play campaign using DnD 5e (with some homebrew rules).The party: ✨ Andromeda, Aasimar, Level 5 Wizard, School of Divination☀️ Augustus Warren, Harengon, Level 5 Druid, Circle of Wildfire

Mark de Clive-Lowe - Acceptance [Impressive Collective + BBE Music] Lance Ferguson - Moonface [Pacific Theatre] Anan feat. The Invisible Session - Eden [Space Echo Records] Nādt Orchestra - Elephant [Locomotiv Records] Rodina - Trust In This Life [Rodina Music] Baobab - Just Now [Tramp Records] Tribe – Vibes From The Tribe [Planet E] FloFilz & Raelle - Peace of Mind [Melting Pot Music] Sidsel Endresen & Bugge Wesseltoft – Try (Chilluminati Remix) [Jazzland Recordings] Mo' Horizons - Havana B-Boys (Freedust Remix) [Agogo Records] Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek - Ceylan [Big Crown Records] Raúl Monsalve y Los Forajidos - Como el Sol [Olindo Records] Synod - I Want To Go Home [Tramp Records] Drelio - 2C-B [Rebel Music] Surplus - Whisper [Fokuz Recordings] Anushka - Overwhelmed (DJ Die Remix) [BBE Music] Peter Matson feat. Kendra Morris - White Noise [Bastard Jazz Recordings] Orlando Voorn - Deeper [Ensouled] Matron 3000 - Matron 3000 [Pleasure] Max Sinàl & KingCrowney feat. Liv East - Intentions [Soul Quest Records] Zero dB - Party Girl (Marc Mac Bruk Remix) [Tru Thoughts Recordings] Kerrier Collective & Wolf Peaches - Fake Silence [Colour and Pitch] Jazzanova – Days to Come (Little Big Beat Studio Live Session) [Sonar Kollektiv] Kaidi Tatham - Miles Away [First Word Records]

With Auren in the lead the heroes proceed to resolve their battle with the manticores and hope to arrive in…

Tonight we're chatting with the co-creators of a new graphic novel project called THE MATRON, co-authors David Bowles and Drew Edwards and artist Monica Gallagher. They all have amazing resumes and I have spoken many times with David, who besides being an Eisner-nominated comic creator and author of some forty books, presently serves as the president of the Texas Institute of Letters and co-editor-in-chief of Chispa Comics. And I speak regularly with Drew, who is a Best of Austin award-winner, two-time Ringo nominee creator of the comic Halloween Man. But it is my great pleasure to for the first time speak to Monica Gallagher, a Ringo Award winner for Assassin Roommate and has co-created numerous series including The Black Ghost and Anti-Stepbrother, not to mention a number of indy series.For fans of PEARL, HACK/SLASH, and YELLOWJACKETS—The Matron, Volume 1: A Wind that Kills is a 52-page horror graphic novel from award-winning creators David Bowles and Drew Edwards. Check out THE MATRON at https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ipicomic/the-matron-slasher-meets-slavic-myth-in-central-texas.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/castle-of-horror-podcast--4268760/support.

In this captivating episode of History Rage, host Paul Bavill welcomes back historian and author Linda Porter to delve into the often misunderstood legacy of Katherine Parr. Known for her scholarly works, including "The Remarkable Life of Katherine Parr" and "The Thistle and the Rose," Dr. Porter is here to challenge the misconceptions surrounding Henry VIII's sixth wife.Exploring Katherine Parr's True Legacy:Dispelling the Victorian myth of Katherine Parr as a frumpy matron.Critiquing the recent film "Firebrand" and its portrayal of Parr as a Protestant zealot.Highlighting Katherine's intellectual prowess and her role as a patron of the arts.The Historical Context:Understanding Katherine's influence on Henry VIII and her stepchildren, particularly Mary and Elizabeth.Addressing the inaccuracies in popular media and historical narratives.Exploring Katherine's life before and after her marriage to Henry VIII.Katherine Parr's Publications and Influence:Examining her contributions to religious literature, including "Psalms and Prayers" and "The Lamentations of a Sinner."Discussing her impact on Elizabeth I and the broader religious landscape of England.Linda Porter provides a nuanced and well-researched perspective on Katherine Parr, urging listeners to look beyond the myths and appreciate the complex, multifaceted woman behind the historical figure. This episode is a must-listen for anyone interested in Tudor history and the overlooked contributions of one of its most intriguing queens.Guest Information:Explore Linda Porter's books, including "The Remarkable Life of Katherine Parr."Follow Linda on Twitter: @DrLindaPorter1.Join the conversation and express your historical frustrations on Twitter @HistoryRage or with Paul Bavill @PaulBavill. Share your thoughts using the hashtag #HistoryRage.Support History Rage on Patreon for early episode access, exclusive content, and the coveted History Rage mug at www.patreon.com/historyrage.Stay Angry, Stay Informed - History Rage Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The horror genre occupies an important moment in our romantic relationship. We started dating nearly eighteen years ago. Our earliest outings were at the theater, watching one mediocre to terrible horror film after the other. As you'll hear in this week's episode, those violent excursions caused us to sharpen our ideas of who we are. Gosh, we sure could have used The Matron back then. Comic creators David Bowles, Drew Edwards, and Monica Gallagher join us to discuss their new slasher comic, The Matron. It's a distinct, bloody trip across multiple generations. While it began as a thought experiment related to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, it quickly transformed into a rich, thoughtful exercise in how the slasher story can contain and process profound human anxiety. Fifty years after her great-great-grandmother slaughtered her way into infamy, Roz desperately wants to find space on this planet away from her family's murderous past. Mostly in the arms of her girlfriend, Samantha. However, as winter sweeps across the Texas town of Ascuas, celebrations centered around the original Matron's killings begin. As do a new set of killings. The Matron allowed us to discover our history with the slasher and our love for it. While these musings tend to occur around the Halloween season, the first two months of 2025 have proved to be the perfect moment to seek solace in characters like The Matron, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and other masked maniacs. The Matron is currently seeking funding via Kickstarter. As of this writing, they have sixteen days left on the campaign. CLICK HERE to explore this unique slasher further. You can follow David Bowles on Instagram. You can follow Drew Edwards on Instagram. You can follow Monica Gallagher on Instagram. Other Relevant Links to This Week's Episode: Support Your Local Comic Shop - Episode 2 - Now Or Never (San Diego, CA) Married to Singles: Michael Schwartz on Darkhold: Iron Man Support Your Local Comic Shop: Episode 1 - Four Color Fantasies in Winchester, Virginia Final Round of Plugs (PHEW): Support the Podcast by Joining OUR PATREON COMMUNITY. The Comic Book Couples Counseling TeePublic Merch Page. Join us at the Alamo Drafthouse in Winchester, Virginia, on 3/09 at 5:00 PM for Josie and the Pussycats, co-sponsored by Four Color Fantasies. And, of course, follow Comic Book Couples Counseling on Facebook, on Instagram, and on Bluesky @CBCCPodcast, and you can follow hosts Brad Gullickson @MouthDork & Lisa Gullickson @sidewalksiren. Send us your Words of Affirmation by leaving us a 5-star Review on Apple Podcasts. Continue your conversation with CBCC by hopping over to our website, where we have reviews, essays, and numerous interviews with comic book creators. Podcast logo by Jesse Lonergan and Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou.

Dave is joined by comic creators Drew Edwards and David Bowles to chat about their upcoming "The Matron" comic, a wild hybrid of Slasher meets Slavic myth in Central Texas. At the time of this posting, the project has a Kickstarter campaign, with very cool perks, below:https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ipicomic/the-matron-slasher-meets-slavic-myth-in-central-texas?ref=project_tweet

Companions, History and Heroism.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.There are two distinct phases of falsehood. In the first, you realize you can lie to those closest to you. In the second, you realize you shouldn't.(And the stars continue to shine forth)"Stop trying to save me," Pamela remarked, once she was sure we were alone once more."Ask me to do something I'd at least consider doing," I sighed. "Let's go back to the party, I'm not sure where we are.""You've been walking in one big circle, Dummy," she chided me.Why was she letting me off the hook for walking off with the Grand Villain in the scheme of things? Well, if she started hitting me, she probably wasn't sure she could stop."One of these days I'm going to screw up and not get out of it," I noted sadly."That is the epitaph of anyone who has ever taken up a weapon and a cause," Pamela smiled.Maybe she wasn't angry with me."Why aren't you more pissed off?" I wondered."You are a good guy, Cáel," Pamela enlightened me. "That means you are going to reach out to people you think you can save. Personally, I don't think Alal can be, but then I'm biased.""Guy coming back from the dead?" I inquired."Damn right. No more surefire way to anger an assassin than to come back from the dead," she related. "Did you take note of his body?""Not really. What did I miss?" I requested."It didn't look right," Pamela shook her head. "Nothing more specific than that. I was hoping, since you touched him, you might have picked something else up.""Nope. I was too busy slipping a GPS locator on him," I grinned."You don't have one and the technology doesn't work that way, ya numbskull," she play slapped my left bicep."Wouldn't it be cool if it did?" my grin broadened."Laugh it up, Monkey-boy," Pamela countered. "Buffy would have you tagged like a mule deer in Yellowstone.""Eek," I gasped. "Point taken.""Well, " Pamela huffed."He's going to kill my soul," I observed. "Now I'm sure of it. All of that discussion was just gauging my personality so that when he offs me, he can become Cáel Nyilas / Wakko Ishara." Pause."Good for you," Pamela let go of a tense breath. She didn't have to ask."The whole Condottieri situation is a scam," I passed on that bit of information I'd first put together with the Vizsla. "It never left Granddad's control. Currently he's going to use various other factions to kill off the Condottieri and Illuminati leadership that oppose him, then it is Unity Time.""If he takes your place, that gives him leverage on the Amazon Council plus your appeal to the 9 Clans and the Earth  and  Sky," Pamela helped me work things through. "He couldn't get his hooks into the Egyptians because they knew too much about him. Matters of race stymied his efforts with the Earth  and  Sky and Seven Pillars.""Except I saved Temujin and he's been supplying them with weapons and tech for over fifty years," I told her. "Even when he was dead, his plan was working, he had predicted the path that warfare would take, invested wisely and left orders to implement his plans. When the time came, they were ready to take out the Seven Pillars.""Without you saving Temujin, the E and S wouldn't have cared, but you," Pamela nodded. "If it comes down to his coalition of Illuminati, Condottieri, Amazons and 9 Clans, the Egyptians will join him, Global Unification has been their goal all along," she continued. "Besides, you made one hell of a positive impression on them the only time you've met. Bang up job, Stud.""Temujin will join as well. He's anything but suicidal," I finished the roll call of my fate. We were almost back to the rave by this time. "You know, you could kill me and short-circuit all of this mess," I reminded her."No way. I plan to win, damn it," Pamela patted me on the back. "Save the Dum-sel in Disrepute, slay the Evil Warlord and re-retire with a boatload great-grandbabies to spoil.""I gave the Vizsla a clue," I let Pamela know the possible complications to her plan. "In 1847, one General of the Condottieri tried to have the Italian Black Hand kill another. Unfortunately, the victim in question was a puppet for Grandpa and the assassin team attacked them both. Because they saw his face, he hunted them back to their base and slaughtered the entire Verona Chapter house of the Wolf.""He must have fucked up a few other times as well," Pamela assured me. Speaking of miscalculations, Anya, Katalin and Orsi broke from the thrashing mob and ran up to me."Your crazy ex-girlfriend called," Anya seemed steamed. "She insisted must she talk to you." At first glance, it would be 'which crazy ex-GF', except only one had Anya's phone number. I took her phone."Bonjour, ma petite amie méchante ," I greeted Anais, the Mountie, in French. Yes, I was calling her a 'meanie'."Cáel, how are you? Where are you?" she was truly concerned. I didn't doubt her sincerity. I also didn't doubt she was convinced she knew what was best for me, as well."I've talked with the Hungarian Police too," I let my pique come through. "You screwed me over. I asked you to let me handled this and you didn't.""You are still a Jerk," she snapped. "I've been trying to help. And from the sounds of it, you are at a party.""It's a rave. It is a rave brought about by the police keeping people penned up in the town all afternoon. Now, if you would stop treating me like a freaking child, you would realize that I'm actually safer in a crowd than I am alone, holed-up in some room without a weapon because you've made it so that the TEK is now keeping a sharp eye on me," I retorted."Can't you tell I'm trying to help you?" she got loud, on the cusp of becoming enraged."Yes. I called you, asking for help. I also called to apologize, without making it sound like some lame stupid stunt to get you back. I'm in real trouble here and I've put other people in danger at the same time," I told her. And yes, I planned to get some 'Anais' when I got back to North America."I'm telling you," she persisted, "let Hungarian law enforcement help you.""I'm trying to make you understand," I countered, "that this is a situation that the police can't help me with. I called you because I believed I could trust you, even though you hate me.""I'm angry with you, Cáel. I don't hate you," she grumbled. "I am trying to help.""If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't still be talking to you, Anais," I allowed. "What did Timothy tell you?""Is that all you care about?" she grumbled."Actually, this is me trying not to be a selfish jackass," I said. "People are in danger because of me and I need to make sure they are safe before I take care of myself.""That's, very unlike you," Anais sounded unsure."I've been doing some growing up since graduation," I replied. "I only wish I'd grown smarter.""I, I'm sorry about your Papa," she quieted down."They gunned him down in his own home," I told her. "Dad never touched a gun in his life and they shot him with an assault rifle.""Oh, well, I understand your Federal Justice Department is investigating the matter," Anais tried to comfort me. "I talked with your Prosecutor Castello. She wouldn't tell me much.""Pity," I mumbled. "I know they are having difficulties.""It is an American problem," she noted."Not really," I sunk in my hooks. "We've been working with MI-6 and the CIA. They are all part of that international task force I told you about {see last chapter}.""Yes, how did you get Irish diplomatic status? That doesn't make any sense," she perked up. Anais liked puzzles. Actually, she liked solving conundrums. It made her a great cop."We are missing the party," Monika protested, in German."That's right. Tell your EX-girlfriend good-bye, Cáel," Anya insisted loudly."Who is that?" Anais groused."It is Anya, the Bulgarian mechanical engineer. We've had sex since you and I last talked and I think she's feeling a tad possessive," I explained.Pause."Bastard," Anais seethed. I was sure her cunt was twitching already. "Fine. I talked with your roommate, he says you have my uniform in a dress bag and my boots in a sealed box, so I forgive you. Anyway, he said Odette called, and she gave him a number to give to you."Since it didn't have 555 in it, I had hopes it was genuine. This was not the time to give Anais the quick kiss-off."I appreciate it, Anais," I sighed with relief. "Have you decided which restaurant you want to go to when I get back?""I haven't given it much thought, Cáel," I could feel her defrosting further. "How can I keep in touch with you?""Ugh, I don't have my own phone right now. Tomorrow I'm going to steal some means of conveyance and, " I grinned."Don't tell me that," Anais complained. "I'm still an officer of the law.""Well, the new 'me' is trying to be more honest with you, Anais. I've got to get out of town tomorrow. Would you rather I lied to you, again?" I confounded her."Well, no. Try to be careful, prends soin de mon amour," she sighed."I will call you as soon as I'm able. Thank you again," I signed off."I still say, 'that one' is confused about her 'ex' status," Orsi teased me."Do you know what is worse than having one woman save your soul?" I tossed out to them. They could not divine an answer. "Having three women do it at the same time, for different reasons. Now I believe we have a party starving for our attention."(Reunions)Pamela had convinced me the motorcycle driver who belonged to our newly acquired BMW K1600 GT would be at least four hours regaining consciousness and getting himself untied. We had stopped at a petrol station along the 431, between Kiszombor, Hungary and the Romanian border. She wanted to fuel up before the border crossing, in case things didn't work out, you know, with our guns and this stolen vehicle.She was already peeved that I'd stopped in Szeged to pick up a few pounds of paprika. Rumor had it that the fields around that stretch of the Tisza produced the highest quality of that spice on the planet, especially the sweet kind. Pamela pointed out I knew 'jack' about cooking. I agreed. What I did know was cooks, the female variety.Fresh spice from the 'source' was way better than a dozen roses, even with a box of chocolates added. Did I have a cook lined up in New York? No, but I was sure I could find one. Wait! Yasmin, my Brazilian, ex-Super Cop, hottie should be back in town by now. If she didn't cook, she'd definitely have a friend I could seduce.Honest to Ishara, I was starting to believe this constant 'work-work-work' was ruining my normally poor judgment where sex and fidelity were concerned.Pamela was getting some lunch for us while I gassed up my crotch-rocket. My luck kept being, exceptional. Two Hungarian motorcycle troopers showed up; both were women and they apparently had decided that I was worthy of attention. Hey, I'm good-looking, and I was wearing a ballistic vest. (The durability of my long coat wasn't so obvious.) "Nice bike," the first one, the one directly confronting me, said. "Thanks. It is a KT1600 GT, 2009," I smiled. "What are you two on?" "Yamaha FJR1300A's," she answered. I put up the nozzle, capped the tank and walked over to her conveyance. It was a really sweet ride. "You have a gun," she noted calmly. She and her partner both had their hands on their holstered weapons. Since the flaps were still down, I wasn't panicking. "Yes. More than one in fact," I kept pretending to look over her bike while I was really scoping her out. I'd nailed all six boat girls and then had the Macedonian babe for breakfast. So I still had three good sexual bangs in me before dusk and these two were nice and pleasant enough. "Do you have permits for those?" she asked. Her partner was calling something in. "Are we still in Hungary?" I mused. The question was a joke. "I believe we are," she smiled. Sure, I may have been a dangerous felon, but I was a nice looking and engaging one."Nope. I'm afraid not," I sighed. She understood my English. "Why are you so armed?" she kept calm. "Are you law enforcement somewhere?" "Does a secretive, non-governmental, paramilitary organization count?" "No," she sighed. "That sounds rather criminal. So, what are you carrying?" That was a nice way of saying 'give me your gun'."Left, right, back, or ankle?" I replied. "Which one do you want first?" "Let's try this again. Can I see some form of ID?" she remained rather comfortable despite this having to be the most bizarre traffic stop of her career."I'm reaching around to my right rear jean pocket for it," I related. Something dating Anais had taught me was that you always tell an on-duty cop what you are doing before you do it.She nodded, so I pulled out my NY Driver's license, my US passport and my Irish Diplomatic ID. She began looking them over. "You are Cáel Nyilas?" she looked over my documents. "If that who it says I am, then yes," I grinned.For a second, she was P-O'ed, then she realized I was playing with her. She snorted in amusement and returned to looking over my stuff.   "Nyilas is a Hungarian name," she hummed. "Székely," I clarified. "My family emigrated to America at the end of World War II. I've actually come back here to look over the homeland." "You couldn't land in Bucharest?" she handed me my ID back. "What?" I feigned an insult to my intellect. "Hungarian women are far prettier.""You don't appear to be Dortmund Schuyler," her partner looked me over.

Latest episode of Elvis on the Dental Fuel Podcast. Apple Podcasts:https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/elvis-dahl-financial-mistake/id1683707577?i=1000689968481 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/2GyFDOvuGLdAp2Xkmulip8?si=N5DXdWrGT7-5xvwzAdYqIA Make sure you visit Ivoclar (https://www.ivoclar.com/en_us) at LMT Lab Day Chicago 2025 (https://lmtmag.com/lmtlabday). Ivoclar will be in their usual spot at Grand Ballroom A&B in the East Tower, on the Gold Level. Right across from the registration desk. Register today! (https://lmtmag.com/ivoclar) Make sure you come see VOICES FROM THE BENCH recording from the Ballroom all weekend! Attend the 99th Annual Cal-Lab Meeting (https://cal-lab.org/) Feb 20 & 21 at the Swissôtel in Chicago. (Connected to the Hyatt and Lab Day) Elvis & Barb will be *recording there Thursday night during the "Cocktail Hour" from 4:00 to 6:30 * Register today: https://cal-lab.org/annual-meeting This week we had the privilege of sitting down with the dynamic team from Amann Girrbach (https://www.amanngirrbach.com/en-us/). We kicked off the conversation with CEO Keith Clements, who shared his remarkable journey to AG. With over 20 years of experience in the dental sector, Keith transitioned from semi-retirement to leading Amann Girrbach, emphasizing the importance of a strong distribution model, highlighting the company's commitment to building trust with their dealer partners. Director of Operations Nick Pizzo followed up with insights into his extensive background in supply chain and logistics. After spending over a decade with Amazon, Nick brings to the company unmatched customer service experience. Industry veteran Maurice "Mo" Whitlock, who has been with AG for nearly a decade, brought a wealth of knowledge to the discussion. He emphasized the importance of customer experience with the motto "The relationship to me starts after the sale." This sentiment resonates deeply in a market where service can make or break a company's reputation. Throughout the episode, the team discussed the innovative changes they are implementing to enhance customer service. From remote repairs utilizing high-resolution cameras to a focus on technician training, AG is setting new standards in the dental milling space. Keith shared their vision of creating a customer-centric approach, all while celebrating every mill install they do. This episode is not just about the products; it's about the passion and commitment behind them. You are invited to Ivoclar (https://www.ivoclar.com/en_us)'s IPS e.max Panel Discussion Friday, February 22nd stating at 3:00 at LMT Lab Day in Chicago. Our very own Barb Warner will be on stage with Jessica Birrell, Stephenie Goddard, Mike Roberts, Jed Archibald and Dr. Ken Malament as they dive into the world of e.max. After the panel discussion, Ivoclar will host a Happy Hour to commemorate this 20-year milestone. So, please join us by registering at Labday.com/Ivoclar. Make sure you visit Aidite (https://www.aidite.com/) at Booth E-26 during your visit at LMT Lab Day Chicago (https://lmtmag.com/lmtlabday)! They will be there showcasing their exciting new products and cutting-edge solutions in digital dentistry. Attendees can explore hands-on demonstrations of Biomic stain & glaze (https://www.aidite.com/detail/materials/Biomic_Stain_Glaze_130_2.html) techniques and some of their other innovative technologies. Aidite will also host engaging lectures in Grand Suite 2, East Tower, covering topics such as EZneer (https://www.aidite.com/detail/materials/EZneer_113_2.html), 3D Pro-Zir, (https://www.aidite.com/detail/materials/3D_Pro_Zir_111_2.html) Digital Dentures, and their Aidite Cloud design service (https://www.aiditecloud.com/). Even before you go, you can stay updated by following @AiditeNorthAmerica (https://www.instagram.com/aiditenorthamerica/) on all social media platforms. Don't miss the opportunity to see how Aidite is shaping the future of dental labs! Special Guests: Keith Clements, Maurice “Mo” Whitlock, CDT, and Nick Pizzo.

In today's episode, we dive into the deeply transformative work of DanaidX—a collaborative force comprised of Hope Brooks and Angela Yarian. Fresh off their participation in FOTO(grafia) 2025 and their Artsy.net solo exhibition Goddess, Myths, and Monsters, we explore how this duo crafts a visual dialogue on womanhood, vulnerability, and resilience. Through the evocative medium of cyanotype, Brooks and Yarian blur the lines between personal grief and universal myth, using their art to dismantle archetypes and reframe cultural expectations. Their works, such as Matron and Placenta #1, challenge perceptions of strength and interdependence while reclaiming the narratives surrounding cis and trans women. Join us as we unpack their artistic philosophy, process, and the power of care in creation. DanaidX reimagines ancient myths and modern struggles, offering a blueprint for finding beauty in imperfection and strength in limitation. Listen now and let their story inspire your own creative exploration. Available on all major podcast platforms. #DanaidX #Photography #Cyanotype #ContemporaryArt #QueerArt #FOTOgrafia2025 #ArtPodcast

Mary Sandilands -Never Argue With A Matron: Adventures in Twentieth-Century Nursing…with TRE's Selina MacKenzie

In our journeys we stopped in for a visit with the wonderfully illustrious Roxanne and her Husband Jon the meat cutting man! Their hospitality not only bordered on the legendary, but the conversations were stimulating and deep bearing the weight of multiple ages past and yet to come. We hope you enjoy this this slice of two days' worth of conversation and laughter. - While on our Pilgrimage across the USA we recorded 5 Between Season Specials which premiered on Patreon. This Third One was recorded in Late October 2024. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/hyperborean-radio/support

We know a thing or two about running a hospital. And one thing we've learned over our 45 years is that it takes heart and passion to run smoothly. That's why we're inspired by people like Matron Betsy Deen!

Carry On Matron is up next in our Carry On Monthing line-up! Now this one is the one to beat. Anyone who watches Carry On films knows this one is one of the best. However, is this episode one of our best? Well, a lot is censored. If you want to hear the uncensored version, leave us a wee comment and maybe we will release it. Carry On Abroad (1972) concludes our Carry On Month, so make sure to join us for that!

Back with Libra; but first some nonsensical news. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..  “Just as echoes pollute sound, the echoes of our histories pollute our view of the World.” Katrina Explains the ‘Ash Men' "Amazons keep rather accurate histories, basing everything on lunar cycles. Our records, with minor gaps, date back to the Great Betrayal," Katrina began. "By modern parlance, around 1000 BCE, our ancestors stopped a millennia of a nomadic existence to settle in the land between the Váh, Hron rivers and Danube rivers." "You bitches know who the Magyar are," I interrupted abruptly. Sure, that region was in current day Slovakia, but it bordered Hungary, my ancestral homeland, even though our residency was separated by over 1500 years. "Of course I know who the Magyar are," Katrina shook her head mirthfully. "I simply can't resist busting your balls." I muttered angrily while avoiding using actual words. "Our numbers were enough to seize and hold the land," Katrina continued. "For centuries before that, we raided for men from tribes whose land we were moving through. After a few seasons, we disposed of the men and took some more." "When we chose to settle down, our Council decided to raid distant tribes and steal boys to be raised among our people. At first the males were virtual slaves yet in three generations, our people began seeing males as fathers, brothers and sons. We trained them in crafts. A few generations later, we voted to train them to be guardians; protectors of our hearths while the Host made war." "For eighteen generations things went well. We prospered, grew rich and strong. The tribes around us feared our wrath which made us proud yet was our undoing. New, stronger tribes migrated into the region from the West; we now know them to be Celts. The genesis of House Epona is from those first meetings. Many Celtic women embraced the Amazon lifestyle." "Though they knew of our strength, the first of these new tribes quickly went from peaceful coexistence to warfare. The Host crushed them. The problem was that new tribes kept coming and coming. Dirges of Mourning replaced the sweet taste of victory around our fires. We were always winning the key conflicts but our numbers were diminishing." "The males came to the Council and begged for the opportunity to join the Host in battle. Twice we rejected them. The third time, we relented and allowed a select few males to join us in the fight and for a time the balance was restored. Our doom crept upon us. More conflict resulted in more men taking up arms to fight." "What the Council could not perceive was the insidious influence of our enemies and it swept upon us on the wings of ravens by night; druids. Masculine deities, ethos and egos combined with our own blind arrogance to bring about our downfall. Constant contact with the Celts brought a different cultural view to our men. They began to question why women should rule." "Somewhere around the year 680 BCE, it began. It was not a calamity over in a night, or even a week yet once it began there was no stopping it. Most of our males, never fighters, were taken as slaves by their former brothers and their new Celtic masters. Not all fighting males betrayed us. Those males risked their very lives to sneak into fallen towns and villages to rescue their daughters." "The penalty our enemies exacted on our remaining fighting males was meant to keep the rest in line. They burned those brave men alive, in public. They burned them slowly, in much agony; the druids showed them how it was done. There is no record of any of our fighting males switching sides, or failing to undertake any mission for the Host. We survived as a people because of them." "When all hope of remaining in our new homes faded, we fled east into the mountains. My ancestors were furious, frightened and shamed. They decided they had let down their guards around men and swore to never do it again. The only obstacle to this way of thinking was the handful of men who risked all for the Host's survival and still lived." "They sent those male survivors on one last, suicidal mission. They were to return home and incite the Celts' wrath against the traitor males. For the Hell they unleashed, the druids were chosen for this final act vengeance. Amazon males slew the druids. The angry Celts fell upon their former allies, slaughtering the lot. "Somehow, a tiny band returned to their mistresses. Their return was unexpected. In their absence, the High Priestess and Council decided to rectify their centuries' old error in judgment. Only a few Houses; Arinniti among them; knows how each Council member voted yet the final decision is something we are dealing with today." "The 'valiant' Host went to their defenseless sons and butchered them. When the last Amazon males made it back they were rewarded with death as well. It is recorded that they didn't even resist, loyal to their last drop of blood. In less than ten minute's time, the last of the male line of Amazons perished." "These are the 'Ash Men' Oneida mentioned. Burned to death by our enemies for their devotion to us, burned to ash by the Host to hide our shame after we killed them for the crime of never betraying us. All full-blooded Amazons are taught about the Second Betrayal; except that last, pathetic and tragic addendum," Katrina educated me. "Oh shit," I interrupted. I was sure Katrina had more to tell me but I felt the hideous weight of this; now shared; past. "You believe that when this gets out, as all secrets do, it will undermine everything you have built. You did more than utterly betray those loyal brothers, you murdered your own sons." "That is one of the most serious issues the Council is dealing with," Elsa finally spoke. "That makes sense, but you are forgetting something," I shook my head. "Times change, people change, circumstances change. The Host misses the point." "That point would be?" Katrina studied me. I believed this was more of a case she wanted me to make the logical next step. "You betrayed us," I stated. "The lesson is not that men were lured away from the Amazon cause, it was that despite every reason to save themselves, men stayed loyal to the grisly end. If the Host is mindful and respectful, we males would rather be 'Ash Men' and safeguard our sons and daughters." "Men volunteered to fight, they did fight and fought well yet the Host refused to acknowledge anything had changed," I then paused. "Which is why I'm learning how to shoot, and knife-fight and why Elsa is here. Katrina, with the upmost respect; you are a manipulative bitch." "Cáel, I let you get away with a great deal," Katrina smirked. "Don't take advantage of it." "You seem to forget that I consider being murdered by your ilk highly more desirable than slavery," I retorted. "I hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does, you know you can't win," Katrina pointed out. "I have more invested in the fight than you do," I stated. "I'm fighting for the future of my people. You know that," Katrina bantered. "I'm fighting for my sons to be allowed to live free of bondage, or thrown from the cliffs, and for my daughters to not be a plague on the human soul," I grinned. "You would turn my daughters into Fabiola and; you can't even agree on letting the other half of your own offspring live, as if that was something 'normal' mothers would ever discuss." "Fabiola? Not Aya?" Katrina prodded. "I ignore the reality of Aya because I love her. There is no saving her. Your reach makes it hopeless, she wouldn't understand and she is already too poisoned by the rest of you anyway," I explained. "Watching her inevitable slide into madness is another reason for me to seek death in battle." "I enjoy these chats," Katrina smiled as she stood up. "You are a very complex individual and crossing wits with you has been an unexpected pleasure. Good night." Elsa moved to follow Katrina to the door. "Elsa?" I called out. She half-turned. "Try going with French cut instead of boy shorts tomorrow." There was a fey light in Elsa's eyes. I continued to creep closer to having status in her eyes. Not a sentient; I was that already. Amazons didn't have a glorious rival. Strong rivals you killed as soon as possible. Cáel Nyilas had become a nebulous entity treading down unexplored pathways in her until-now internally consistent World. "I won't let you win," she gave me a molten, hungry look. "I bet you say that to all the guys," I shot back. "Only the ones I care about," she gave me one more promissory fuck-note, turned and left. I didn't have time to mull over my bleak future forecast. Yasmin was coming over and we were definitely not going out to eat.  (Wednesday Night) Yasmin had a kink I hadn't really had to deal with before. She liked having sex standing up; anywhere. Sure I had made love in hallways, showers and against a refrigerator once, but Yasmin took this to a whole new level. The most horizontal I got her was fucking her on my bedroom dresser. She was also an aggressive nibbler which is a kind way of saying she bites down hard without breaking the skin. The scars would fade by morning, but I was going to catch Hell from Timothy and Odette later tonight. Our experience was; enhanced by yet another reality I was unaware of. Yasmin's ex was an 'intellectual'. In Brazil that must translate as a small penis with limited stamina, but don't hold me to that. Since the birth of her son and the 'incident' with her husband, Yasmin hadn't much 'personal' time; read: not much finger, or vibrator usage. Yasmin was tight, famished and extra aroused by me kicking Felix's macho ass an hour earlier. I ushered Yasmin into my place, she was looking smoky yet contained, so I gave her the ten cent tour. When I turned around, her sandals, pants and shirt were off. Silky violet was a good color on her. Yasmin didn't rush the removal of her final items, using their skimpy allure to draw me in like a striker to the goal. My Brazilian MILF loved being appreciated for every nuanced curve, scent and taste. She let me slip off her bra first then she pulled off my shirt. She didn't let me get behind her. This allowed her to pace her own aggression. Cáel was along for the ride. This wasn't fem domination, just a very hungry lady looking for some first-rate sportsmanship. Lucky for me, I was a full service arena with overtime expertise. Every little 'Give and Go' and 'tackle' was received, or dodged to keep our game in play. Here I was thinking of swinging a little more upper body workout later tonight. Yasmin's gymnastics made that redundant. My first insertion was welcomed by her. Yasmin repaid my diligence with lip services, strong hands massaging my back and arms, plus timely input concerning what was good and bad without running over the passion. Yasmin was not at Buffy's level of competition. Instead she brought her own torrid spirit that was new and exciting. I had no idea how Yasmin's husband ever found the energy to cheat on her. Yasmin would seek breaks in our activities. The rest of the hour-plus she was either at a vivid simmer, or a full-on blowtorch. Half the time I didn't even have to direct our intimacy; Yasmin was happy to manage all of the movements using her thighs, stomach muscles and arms to make it a highly memorable performance. As we staggered down from the peak of my climax, a sweaty, panting Yasmin informed me that she was glad she had started doing handstand push-ups once more. For those not in the know, imagine doing a handstand facing a wall. Now push your body up the wall which is occasionally done with your fingertips if you are a true bad-ass; like Yasmin and Timothy. That is another exercise I'm going to have to work on. Jacking-off and squeezing stress balls wasn't going to cut it anymore. "Ora, ora, meu bombom precioso ;  muito bom," Yasmin purred as I put her legs down; I had been holding the back of her knees with my elbows. "I'm the bomb? Sweet!" I sounded as energetic as I was able. My Brazilian Nitro-girl began laughing. "What did the rest of it mean?" "With every orgasm you give me, I'll give you a word," she taunted me. I looked at the ceiling. "I'm looking for a downside to that challenge," I met her gaze. "I can't see one." "We'll see about that when I leave. I have a sitter until 11:00 p.m. so you have good deal of bravado I want you to back-up," Yasmin looked carnivorously-aroused. We did get around to getting cleaned up then hoofed it to a local Egyptian cuisine eatery. On the way back, I screwed her against a streetlamp with the light burned out. You see a good deal of humor about girls in super-tight pants and all the contortions they go through to get into them. Peeling them out is much, much easier. Maybe it is the inspiration that makes the difference. Best of all, the reactions of people walking around us, or across the street. Overt disgust, ignoring the whole situation, and, my favorite, the running commentary. (First couple) #1 Girl: "Why don't we ever do that?" #1 Guy: "Do you bend that way?" (Second couple) #2 Girl: "Do you think she's hotter than me?" #2 Guy: "Let's go down to the next lamppost and find out." (Third couple) #3 Guy: "Don't they have a bed, or are they homeless?" There was no way we were dressed like homeless! #3 Girl: "You have all the romance of a rhino." Somebody wasn't getting some tonight. And because we were in a major metropolis, (Fourth couple) #4 Girl (1): "Are you practicing safe sex? If not, I have a condom," she touched my shoulder. Me: "We are good. I use Durex normally, though I'll use Trojan too." #4 Girl (2): "Are you okay, Miss?" Yasmin: (unhappy): "I'm fine. Now either let my man get back to slaking my every lust, or join in." #4 Girl (2) "Are you serious?" to Yasmin. #4 Girl (1) "Are you okay with this?" she addressed me. "She's my girlfriend." A few seconds of grunting, gasping sex ensued. Yasmin: "Yes, I am serious and you two are killing the mood. Mount up, or get off my horsy." The two ladies looked at one another. #4 Girl (1): "She's very ho; attractive. What do you say? It is safe sex," hint, hint. And thus I had a lesbian four-way. The first girl, Evie, was bi- and worked at Planned Parenthood, explaining the condom lore. Girl two, Samantha, was a lesbian, but having a strong sex drive, decided that Yasmin was as luscious as I thought she was. Back at my place, it took Samantha thirty minutes to get used to sharing her bed with a man. By then she decided I wasn't the enemy, despite my penis and hunger for the female form. Evie and Yasmin had zip inhibitions and let the lesbian and the straight guy work our differences while they basked in each other's femininity. Yasmin insisted she wasn't a lesbian, or bi-sexual. She had no sexual hang ups and found American's confusing because they did. We had wrapped up the first round with Evie giving me a quick blowjob because I had been a good boy and kept my sperm holstered for the entire encounter. Samantha threw on one of Odette's t-shirts (I didn't explain) and went to the bathroom. I got washed up; Samantha gave me a dirty look from the toilet then I reminded her I'd just seen her naked. We both exited to the living room and took up spots on the sofa as we waited for our prospective partner. I heard my roommates keys jingle in the lock. He walked in, taking in the now familiar scene of me with a new girl on the sofa. "Timothy Denver!" Samantha squealed when my roommate showed up. "Sammy; what are you doing in my apartment; with him?" Timothy meant me. They (Timothy and Samantha) hugged each other, Timothy lifting her off the ground. "Me and Evie are sharing his girlfriend," Samantha explained. "Which one?" Timothy put her down. Samantha shot me a semi-hostile look. Yasmin and Evie came out of the bedroom; having found Evie's clothing. That was their story and I wasn't going to argue with it. "Hi Timothy!" Evie ran up and hugged him too. Up she went. "Timothy, this is Yasmin," I made introductions. "The Brazilian Hottie," Timothy noted. "Yasmin, is Cáel sleeping around you on you?" Samantha inquired. "No. Cáel has sex with far too many other women to cheat on me," she informed them. Samantha didn't know what to make of that. "That means she's aware that I date a lot," I explained. I would have asked how Samantha, Evie and Timothy knew each other except now all their body art made sense. "Timothy, are you and Cáel;” Samantha asked. Timothy rolled his eyes. "God, I wish," Timothy sighed dramatically. "The dick on this guy is phenomenal." "Sammy, I know you would never, ever, ever go that way, but if you did, do it with Cáel here," Timothy told her. "He is the most sensitive, skilled and empathic lover I've ever seen. He's not at all possessive and totally confident in who he is." Sammy didn't look like she was contemplating a gender-preference switch. She was getting between me and Evie. "As long as you understand you, me and Evie," Sammy warned me. "Sadly, fidelity is not one of my virtues," I shrugged. "I could lie to you about it. You seem to be Timothy's friend, so I should treat you better than that." "You can trust me around Cáel," Evie insisted. "No, we can't," Timothy, Sammy and Yasmin all spoke simultaneously. I wasn't trustworthy, but at least I was consistently untrustworthy. "Listen to your friends and the woman you barely know," I met Evie's gaze. "I know I couldn't control myself around you and we'd both regret it." No we wouldn't. I could see that fire deep in her eyes. We were going to have sex again, just me and she. I was a lowdown dirty dog who gave an incredible dicking and I'd already made an insertion into Evie's body and mind. Not that it was terribly important to me; she was okay at sex, though not great. My words were for the listening audience. Timothy knew me better. "Cáel," Timothy stated firmly. "For me, man; don't fool around with Evie." I'd lied to roommates all the time. Like the women in my life, I wanted to keep them happy, or happily neutral. That attitude suddenly didn't work for me. "How?" sort of spilled out. No one expected my plaintive cry for relationship help. "What?" Sammy gulped. Yasmin snickered. She knew the score. "Sammy, Cáel's nailed a girl who was making a food delivery to us. In around an hour and a half, a waitress he met for a minute and gave his number to, will be here. She moved into his room. They are not a couple," Timothy tried to explain. "She lives here to hang out with me and bangs Cáel when he doesn't have anyone else over, yet, I swear on Buddha's Belly, I've never seen him abuse a girl," Timothy continued. "It is the strangest damn thing I've ever seen. He's stacked them up like jets at LaGuardia." "He's a shit-head player," Sammy glared. "Do you feel used?" Yasmin pointed out. "You don't because you weren't. He's not trying to out-dick your vagina. He's not out to steal Evie. He is admittedly hormonally unbalanced. That doesn't make him a bastard. I'm not here looking for a boyfriend and if I was, it would never be Cáel." "If you can get past the fact he might have sex with your girlfriend from time to time, he's really a great guy," Yasmin added. "Cáel is fearless and as long as sex is not involved, completely reliable." Sammy was clearly not believing any of this, finally turning back to Timothy. "He gives an incredibly good dicking, he's a dog, and he's one of my best friends," Timothy shrugged. I had been 'one of the guys', a 'buddy' and 'dude'. I had never been considered a man's best friend before and I had never heard Timothy toss that term around about anybody. I went up and hugged him. "Dude, you have lousy taste in friends," I patted his back. "Cáel, I have plenty of friends who wouldn't abandon me in a fight. You are the only person I know who took an arrow for a little girl you barely knew," Timothy patted my back. "You don't find that dedication often. In the past two months we've been through more freaky shit than I've experience in the past ten years. Faults and all, this has been the best time of my life." I stepped back until we were at arm's length. "I take that back. You don't have lousy taste in friends; you are delusional," I blinked. "He got shot; took an arrow; for a little girl?" Sammy gulped. "How come this is the first I'm hearing about it?" "That would be the bandage on your leg?" Evie pointed. "I have a dangerous job," I regarded the new girls. "I test poultry for signs of intelligence. Let's just say that a sleeper cell got past me and chaos ensued." "Translation: he can't talk about it," Yasmin smirked. "What do you do you really do?" Sammy pressed. "I'm working on a special project. We are taping strobe lights to Garden Gnomes then, using hobby store-bought rockets, my corporation is going to sell them as a Developing World-friendly alternative to the current GPS system," I looked grim. "Really?" Sammy looked uncertain. "I work for a really sleazy corporation," I confessed. "There is nothing they wouldn't do for a buck." "That's heartless," Sammy protested. "Men like that are raping the planet and exploiting the poor." "Sammy, I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments. I am one of three men in the entire workforce; that is well over 10,000 women; undoubtedly more," I smirked. "If it is any consolation, I am treated as little more than a pin-up model by my co-workers." "Oh wow," Evie snickered. "Were you hired for your looks?" "Hardly," I declared with authority. "I majored in Business with a minor in Philosophy from Bolingbrook College in New Hampshire, an institute of higher learning renowned for its 70% female student population and nothing else. Still, I am working for a Fortune 500 company at a job I am totally unqualified for, earning an unheard of starting salary and constantly required to work shirtless, or naked." "Personally, I think it was my creative writing skills that won them over," I nodded sagely. "You are a jerk," Timothy snorted. "I hate it when you tell the truth and make it sound unbelievable. It is a skill I've never seen wielding so cuttingly." No one said anything for a few seconds. "It is really annoying that no one believes I earned my position because I'm actually intelligent and hard-working," I grumbled. "Welcome to the world of a Carnival dancer," Yasmin laughed. "I was going 'a blond bimbo'," Sammy agreed, "but that works too." That broke down the social ice. Letting yourself soak up a bit of ridicule can pay huge dividends. I was going to be back in bed with every single woman in the room; even the lesbian, though I'd be sharing a girl with her, wait and see. For some reason, Sammy remained convinced I was an asshole, so she dared me to kiss Timothy. I shrugged, Timothy shrugged, so we kissed. Seriously, I have no clue what I Won't do for sex. When Timothy slipped me some tongue I nutted him. As he doubled over, I told him I wasn't the kind of guy who went beyond second base on the first date. The group informed me that second base was touching my cock; whoops. Then Evie reminded me that I had sex with her within fifteen minutes of our initial meeting. I replied I hadn't had anal sex with her yet, but if that was the case, I was sure Timothy would be a good sport about it all. Timothy had finally gotten back to his feet. Again, he nodded. This time he snatched me up, bench pressed me over his head (man, we need to re-spackle the ceiling) and bounced me off the sofa. Timothy is really strong too. I hit the floor, face down, but with my knees and palms catching my weight. I quickly summersaulted and regained my footing. I trusted Timothy. Still, talking about anal sex with a big, buff gay man then assuming the doggy-style position; let's not tempt fate. My antics earned me another round of sex. After Evie exploded (figuratively) all over the place with her; third euphoria, I looked over Yasmin's shoulder to Sammy, who was sexing up my Brazilian from the other side. "I have totally and completely re-evaluated having a lesbian in bed with me, Sammy," I testified. "You rock!" Sammy shot me a look, realized I was expounding true praise and picked up her ravishing of Yasmin. After we demolished Yasmin, Sammy mounted me. She wanted a 'test drive' more than anything else; the experience of feeling the differences between the masculine and feminine skeletal and muscular textures and nuances. "Can I touch your breasts?" I requested. Sammy thought it over, eventually giving me an 'okay' look. She had those nice, banana-cone shaped breasts with huge areolas and sizable nipples. I started off by lifting and weighing each teat, taking it nice and leisurely. Sammy decided I was doing a passable job so she stopped studying me and got into the sensation of the moment. That little gasp cued me in that I had earned the right to move a little farther. Her nipples were already engaged. A half-dozen grazing passes and they were definitely joyous. Lesbians, bi-sexual and straight women all have the same physiology, yet different visually, audibly, and olfactory stimuli were specific arousal cues. Most lesbians didn't like Old Spice, The Firemen of New York calendars and Enrique Iglesias. At the very least they aren't throwing their panties at Enrique. Touch and taste tend to be unisex. Baring you having big, calloused man-paws, fingers are fingers and hands are hands. Taste is taste and more individual specific than gender-related. Sorry ladies, your sweat can stink as much as a men's does. It is more a matter of diet. Both sexes should clean up 'down there'. It is common sexual courtesy, so use it. When I can, I use a subtle cologne though I've used women's Secret deodorant on rare occasions. It earned me curious looks every time, but it never stopped them. Sammy was already taking quick gulps of air when her worried eyes looked down at me again. She wanted to tell me to stop. She was caught in a double bind; she was getting gratification and the only reason to refuse it was because I was a man; a man she had allowed to touch her. That would make her either sexist, or a bigot. Never ignore the allure of the female orgasm. Add to that, never ignore the power of friendship. As Sammy struggled to master her 'lesbian outrage', Evie sneaked behind her, wiggling two fingers. "Evie," Sammy moaned in protest. "Sammy-love, he's not trying to fuck you," Evie murmured to her companion. "You are liking what he's doing and you know you have dynamite nipples. Let him have a sample." To me, "She likes a whole lot of suction and a tiny bit of teeth." Sammy attempted some kind of protest. Yasmin stroking Sammy's upper thigh, hip and stomach breached the dam of her inhibitions. So, I had a lesbian lowering her body toward mine. First her palms rested on my shoulders. Sammy's body flowed up mine until her elbows replaced her hands. As advised, I applied a wet vacuum seal. I twirled my tongue around her savory flesh, bringing Sammy to the point she embraced her tantric titillation. "You should have longer hair," she purred as she ran one hand through my locks. "I don't normally go for butch girls." You guys go be indignant if you wish. These were some sweet teats I was indulging in and I had zero regrets about 'girling-up' for a lesbian. Sammy finally climbed to the mountaintop of her orgasmic quest and howled out her victory. She cascaded down on me, my lower stomach syrupy with her juices and her bosom muzzling my face. Yasmin went to her knees, leaned over Sammy's prostrate form and began seriously making out with Evie. I lived in a vortex of unexpected pleasure and fulfillment. I had taken part in making a lesbian sexually complete. "You are the best guy I've ever been with," Sammy murmured. "He's the only guy you've ever been with," Evie teased. "Fine. He's still the best. Cáel, have you ever thought about becoming a post-op transsexual?" Sammy giggled. "No!" Yasmin protested. "That's where I draw the line. Cáel keeps his tender bits." "Mmm Mmm," I added my voice against that proposal. To punish Sammy for even bringing that up, I latched onto a breast like a starving lamprey and went to town. Damn right that put her in her place. Fifteen minute later, she finally let me come up for air. Ten minutes after that, we stumbled out of the apartment. I was going to see Yasmin safely home; she snickered then, seeing my hurt feelings, told me I was very brave and could take her home. Evie and Sammy lived close by. They had known Timothy from his days working at an ink place in Queens, but had lost touch when he opened his own place on the East Side. They promised to stay in touch. Sometimes I don't even have to try. Maybe that's why Timothy got so pissy with me at times. As for Yasmin and me, I fucked her in the hallway right outside her domicile because she still had twenty minutes left on her babysitter and there was a convenient vertical surface. We both went home with smiles on our faces. I met up with Odette walking up to my; now our; place. She wanted all the juicy details, helped me change our sheets, promised to do our laundry tomorrow morning and then we had sex. I was set up on my feet, shins and knees, Odette facing away from me and grinding her lush tight end on my rod when the door opened and Timothy Nerf-shot me; cause I definitely deserved it. (Thursday) Thursday was good. I inspected artificial wood products for artificial termites. Actually, I started out with Constanza; really Naomi and her Merry Band now; and learned how to actually fire a personal defense weapon. No more 'spray and pray' for me. They told me they had a special surprise for me on Friday. Color me concerned. According to Medical, I was a lousy lab monkey. Then Katrina informed me it was Brian's turn today to get poked, prodded and forced to cough up millions of little Brian-lettes for Havenstone's perverse pleasures. I e-mailed Brian my best wishes. I was seriously starting to question those 'so-called' medical experts ethical integrity. I worked with Buffy, teamed up with the Daphne/Desiree combo. Why? Because there was an emergency board meeting on Friday. I wasn't told this, but Daphne and I figured it out. To put some extra butter on my hell-bound soul, an agent of Rhada's gave me a private note informing me she wanted to talk. Keeping to Amazon Princess Rape Fantasy Bondage protocols, I ate the message before Buffy could pry it from my hands. Bad enough was all these crazy females trying to kill me, I also had to keep track of which ones hated the other ones. It reminded me of dating sorority sisters, except this time out, I could never leave the sorority house and they almost never went to classes. Oh, and they are all related to Jason Voorhees (that's the maniac from the Friday the 13th movies for those who had lived constructive lives) and we were adjacent to an Ace Hardware store. Plus I had a date with Libra and I was dedicated to 'tapping that ass' at least once more before I died. And, there was more! Deena, the swimming, 'fingers in her cunt' buddy dropped me a line telling me she was 'expecting' me this afternoon. There was no way I could swing that, despite her request that could be only construed as an order. I simply didn't have the time. I e-mailed her back, pleading for her to be in a bikini with several suggested sites for her to visit. Before my designated knife training, I had a fucked-up brainstorm about what to do with Rhada. I wrote a letter in Old Kingdom Hittite, sealed it in wax with the imprint of the symbol 'Lowest' on it, representing me, though Rhada's submissive side could easily misinterpret that. To get it to her, I went to the only one who could meet her face to face who I could trust. Katrina? Laughable. She could do it but she wouldn't touch this disaster with a three meter pole made out of male vertebrae. The only other person who met all the criteria; Oneida. Yes, I was a fucktard, fuck-nut and a waste of human potential. "Oneida, I need a favor," I asked the moment I hunted her down in Acquisitions. "Of course," her eyes lit up, her lips moistened and breathe quickened. She wasn't wanting a quick tussle in a side room. The chick wanted to be held closely while I whispered love poetry into her ear for her to hear alone. I was letting her down abysmally. "I need this message hand delivered to Rhada," I pressed the missive into her hands. She didn't know how to wrap her mind around that. Rhada? She knew we had fought, but what contact had we shared since then? She made the sane 'girl-logic' assumption. "Cáel, are you in trouble," she worried. Oh, I wish it was only trouble. "Not that you can help me with. If you can't do this, I'll find another way," I sighed. Yes, I was playing her. Oneida would run over hot coals for me. "No, no; I'll do it; why? Why Rhada?" Oneida pleaded. "I can't say and you cannot look at the message. It is critical that she, and she alone sees this," I impressed on her the importance of saving my life without saying 'please save my life'. By asking her to not look at the message, I increased the odds she'd look. I had no choice. If I didn't say anything about it, she'd make an excuse to look and tell herself that I hadn't forbidden her to look. Add to that, she was my racial superior. In her case, this meant she had to look out for my best interest. Oneida nodded and watched me leave. Training with Pamela was hands on this day. I had a wooden blade with a lead core to give me a better feel for the proper weight. Pamela had a meter long wooden rod. She had a miraculous ability to move her baton in a blur yet not hurt my fingers, hand, or wrist. It was very instructional. I was practicing stabbing and a bit of slashing. I left with a sense I'd added something useful to my repertoire. I wasn't calling out Elsa anytime soon; heck, I wasn't calling out Europa, Aya's 13 year old sister either. As we were cleaning up, Pamela noticed my uncertainty. "What is it?" she asked. "Oh, it is that you've resisted the urge to cause me pain," I mused. "Normally, I find Amazons to be very harsh." "That is certainly a common training style here," Pamela nodded. "I chose showing a student how to do things right as opposed to reminding the student what they did wrong." "Good enough. Thanks for treating me like I matter," I grinned. "What makes you think that?" Pamela and I started to leave the little dojo. Note, she didn't say 'assume'. "Trust me, I'm a sperm donor with sex appeal to virtually every other screwy dame in this place," I smirked. "I know the difference between what I see in their eyes and yours," I winked. "Ash Man," Pamela remarked. She zinged me, alright. "My granddaughters talk of you and not in a way I would expect Amazon women to talk about a male." "That and an Egg McMuffin;” I shrugged. "Means you won't die hungry," Pamela shrugged along with me. "This is why I volunteered to teach you; you deserve every chance to go out unconquered." "Do you think I have a chance; of that?" I questioned. "Not really. I didn't think I would ever be talking to a man in my native language again either, so who knows," she added. "Do you think I'm an Ash Man?" I wondered. Male; OKH; again? "I haven't a clue what one is," she rolled her shoulders. "I am neither my House Leader, nor its Keeper of Records." "Oh; what are you then?" I asked. The response she gave didn't make sense. "Cliff-walker? I don't know;” I furrowed my brow. "I am past my useful life yet refuse to take myself to the cliffs," Pamela told me. "I have unfinished business to attend to in this World." "What is that; if that isn't too rude?" I inquired. "A dead man spoke to me. He told me I would never find my way to the halls of my ancestors until I replaced a life for a life," she related. "That's; umm; odd," I suggested. "Cáel, I severed his throat to the spine. Even had he somehow been alive, he could not have spoken. Then there is the matter of speaking the Amazon tongue," Pamela continued. "Did he tell you anything else?" I played along. "No." "How will you know what life you should save; to replace a life for a life?" I searched her out. "He had the most unforgettable emerald green eyes," she filled me in. Just like my eyes. We had stepped into the elevator when she told me that. There were five other Amazons with us. I didn't know any of them. I reached out and put my hand on Pamela's stomach. "Whatever happens to me, and I don't want you to die, or anything; I want you to know you've done what needed to be done," I assured her. Pamela's laugh was so loud, deep and resounding, I was stunned that it came from such a thin frame. "That, my friend, is what being an Amazon is all about," Pamela slapped my back. What she said was wrong in so many ways and the Amazons around us knew it. I wasn't an Amazon and equating me to one of them was insulting to their feminine martial ardor. Also, no Amazon had ever called me a friend and meant it in a non-sexual manner. Things were getting uncomfortable. "Matron," one of the Amazons spoke up, "are you feeling well?" That was a polite way of saying 'have you lost your mind?' "Do you know why there are twenty 'First' Houses?" Pamela addressed me and ignored the others. "Not really. It wasn't in the Havenstone Handbook," I tried to sound innocently curious. "The first Amazon to escape capture came back for the rest," Pamela related. "She was free and if she was recaptured she would have certainly been raped again and most likely killed. She came back because no risk is too great for one's family. Like the first of the Unconquered, you risk everything for the spiritual and physical safety of your sisters." "He is not one of us!" a different Amazon insisted. "How bizarre that none of these crazy bitches can see it," Pamela smiled. "Who are you again?" I gave Pamela a worried look. "A discarded heroine, Cáel," Pamela answered. "I am an embarrassment, an anachronism and an arrogant warrior humbled." Clearly this was part of Havenstone's history I wasn't supposed to be privileged to hear. "You don't date much, do you?" I changed things up. Pamela snorted. "This whole scarred scholar-warrior with a tragic past works better with your moping, 19th century literature-reading college types. Cavemen like me prefer slinky clothing and feigned idiocy." "I'll keep that in mind," Pamela snickered. By the bug-eyed expression of our fellow travelers, Pamela was indeed some kind of heroic figure. She held no position, but her status was undeniable. "How about this: I will forgo taking myself to the cliffs until you give me my first great-granddaughter." "As long as we agree that I'm never going without a condom for the next five years," I counter-offered. "By the way, which two am I going to be surreptitiously avoiding?" "Brielle and Daphne," Pamela appeared amused with my expression. "Holy crap!" I exclaimed. "I really like those two. This is going to be tougher keeping you alive than I thought." "How many more days?" Pamela teased. "67," I groaned as we stepped out onto the Executive Services floor. Technically, I had an hour left of my work-day. "Look on the bright side, our first great-grandchild could be a Son," Pamela joked. Pamela clearly enjoyed 'freaking out' the Normals; the normal Amazon population that is. "That would truly suck," I remarked. "You ladies have zero experience with male names and no boy of mine is going to be named Shirley. Picking the baby boy names is going to be all on me." "How about Augustus?" Pamela suggested. I looked stunned. Buffy, having heard my voice, hopped up from her station and came blazing my way. I hadn't done a damn thing wrong yet she was angry with me. She didn't know Pamela and I hoped to hell I wasn't hitting on; okay, Pamela was a bit odd-looking. I'd still do her. "Cáel," Buffy snapped. "What is going on? Don't you have a job to do; with me?" "Buffy, this is Pamela. She's my knife instructor," I said. "Pamela, this is Buffy DuBois, my (dead word spoken)." Literally in Old Kingdom Hittite that meant 'mountaintop'. Pamela clearly got the implication. Buffy's fury about me slipping into OKH was mitigated by Pamela's appraising look. "Okay," Buffy grumbled. "What was that?" "Pinnacle, peak, highest point, mountaintop," Pamela answered for me. "I would wager it is a term of endearment and praise, but feel free to be offended despite him using the word for my benefit as opposed to yours. He might have incorrectly thought you knew how much he cared for you." Verbal beat down! "Who are you, anyway?" Buffy struggled to be polite. "Pamela Pile," my instructor stated. "I am not employed by Havenstone anymore." "That's not; possible;” Buffy questioned. "She is Brielle's and Daphne's Grandmother, Buffy," I explained. "That's nice," Buffy was less than impressed. "Cáel, take care. Buffy, I know nothing of men, but I know camaraderie and I know you can throw that away as quickly as you earned it," Pamela gave an even stare. "By the way, Pamela, you clearly have never been a kid on a playground," I joked. Buffy was irritated while Pamela was amused. "With a name like Augustus, he's either going to toughen up really fast, or get flattened. Trust me. My name was Cáel aka Cabbage Head all through elementary school." "What did they call you in; middle school? It is middle school, correct?" Pamela inquired. "Yes; middle school. By 6th grade, I was firmly a 'nobody'," I enlightened her. "Hell, my teachers could barely recall who I was. I stayed that way until I graduated high school." "I had asthma as a child," Pamela related. "I barely made it through my 12th year." "What did you do when you; is the term 'casted', or 'choosing a caste?" I posed. "It varies. Sometimes we choose and sometimes the caste chooses us," Pamela answered. "I ended up here, in what is now known as Executive Services." "Great," I grinned. "I bet you were enticed by our intensive training in marshmallow juggling. Am I right?" "Not really," Pamela grew serious. "I came here so I could build obstacle courses for kittens. It is an unappreciated melding of animal conditioning and engineering." I was really liking Pamela. She was like a kindred spirit in this madhouse. "Speaking of 'animal conditioning', Cáel, we need to get to work," Buffy huffed and off I went. We finished up, had our after-work meeting and began to head-out for the day. "Daphne, I met your grandmother; nice lady," I told my 'new hire' buddy. "Really, what was she doing here?" Daphne smiled affectionately. I need to wear a dead rat around my neck; the deader the better. "She is teaching me how to knife fight," I told her. Her not knowing that was odd. "Oh; I didn't know she did that," Daphne frowned. "She worked in Executive Services," I said. That appeared news to Daphne as well. "I thought that was why you joined." "Katrina," Daphne looked to our boss, "was my grandmother in the (dead word spoken) service?" That word roughly meant 'darkness of night' in OKH, but like so many things in a 'dead' language, interpretation could be sketchy. "She was before my time," Katrina nodded. "I do recall her legacy though." "What did she do? Normally I wouldn't care, except Pamela is a laugh riot," I smirked. "She was the most lethal Amazon assassin of the 20th century," Katrina stated deadpan. "Grans?" Daphne gasped. "She's always been so odd; I mean nice." "What happened to her?" I muttered. "I don't know," Katrina mused. "She came back from her last mission then took herself to the cliffs. A few weeks later she returned with no explanation for that either." "Well crap," I groaned. "She's never going to forgive me for that 'wet willy' (getting a fingertip slick with your saliva then sticking it in an opponent's ear). I'm a goner." Daphne play-punched me. We all heard the subsonic rumbling from the door. According to Buffy, she was the only one allowed to cause me physical discomfort and resented Daphne horning in on 'her turf'. Buffy had a new weapon in her arsenal this afternoon. "Your (dead word spoken) wants you to come here," Buffy snapped. Even Katrina looked at her in some confusion. "I was told that was a good thing," Buffy sizzled. "It most likely interpreted as 'most prized', or 'most esteemed'," Tigger translated. "Precisely it means 'mountaintop'." Buffy stuck out her chin proudly. "Cáel, I believe I made my desire clear," she commanded. "No can do McGiggles Sissy-pants," I grimaced, "I have a date tonight that precludes me from me being overly bruised; again." I was heading for the door, leading the 'new hires' out of Katrina's office. "I know you like laugh at death, Cáel," Dora snickered, "but I'm not sure the rictus of death counts." "I've got that covered, Dora," I actually brushed up against Buffy. "I'm having a laugh track installed in my urn." "Who says they'll ever find your body?" Buffy moved rapidly at my side. "Whoa; cannibalism. Where I come from, normally the guy eats the girl," I joked. "With you, Buffy, I'm never quite certain of our gender roles. I'm still terrified of letting you snuggle up from behind." "I hate you," Buffy growled. She wasn't upset. Her eyes were dancing with laughter. "What are you going to do when he is relocated?" Fabiola murdered the mood. "Blame you," Buffy glared at Fabiola. "I'm so scared," Fabiola mocked Buffy. "Fabiola, don't be like that," I moped. "You have such full, plump lips that clearly know how to take hold of a problem and work it through. Your thighs are the product of diligent effort on your part and I'm sure that when you grapple with an opponent, no one can break that fearful hold." "I'm sure anything your hands touch, you don't release until you've milked every ounce of life out of your target. You are truly a complete woman," I concluded. The elevator doors opened and we flooded out. Oneida was waiting for me. Buffy began laughing so hard she couldn't keep up. "What is it?" Oneida looked to Buffy. "That is the most obtuse description of fellatio, fucking and a hand job I've ever heard," Buffy wheezed. "Fabiola, he called you a whore and you can never prove it." Okay, I didn't call her a whore; money was never mentioned. Oneida looked distressed. "Oneida, Fabiola insinuated that Cáel would be relocated soon," Daphne came to the rescue. I still had something to take care of. "I knew I forgot something," I realized. "Buffy, can you hold my jacket?" I handed it to her. She examined it then dropped it to the ground. I shrugged then kept stripping. "Cáel?" Oneida worried. "I don't have my biking clothes on," I pointed out. "We can't go biking unless I'm dressed in my biking clothes." Was Oneida still upset about me stripping in public? No. She was about to spend time with me because she mistakenly perceived me to be a good guy. My bike trip with Oneida to a neutral halfway point proved that while Oneida was in good shape, she wasn't a cyclist. Cycling emphasized an unusual muscle sequence, so if you don't cycle much, it shows. I stuck close to her. Not only did it endear me to Oneida, it kept our two shadows at a safe distance so they didn't impinge on their princess's joyful mood. I sent Oneida on her way, got home and immediately started making adjustments to my night's plans. First I had to deal with Libra. I got into an argument with her. I insisted she should wear only jeans, a t-shirt with no bra, and comfortable shoes. Libra was furious. She wanted to go clubbing and look hot; preferably enticing some guys to make me jealous. She certainly wasn't going to come giftwrapped for an easy screw. She wasn't that kind of girl. She didn't like that I was that kind of guy. I insisted that I was the kind of guy who was fascinated with her. I was also happy that Brooke had gotten us back together; you know Brooke, the girl I had fucked to help her get over Felix then refused to sleep with so I could be with Libra. I was blistered and lambasted. I also got my way. I also got to see Libra embrace the ogling her attire earned her in my working class neighborhood as we walked around and talked. "Everyone is staring at my breasts," Libra whispered to me after a bit. She wanted to make me think she was unhappy while her nipples were excited and she was relishing the turning heads. Brooke was better looking, in my opinion, but Libra was definitely a girl who shouldn't walk around without a bra. Her breast are really shapely, large and firm, possibly her best attribute. We were hanging around an authentic Italian pizza joint, Libra against the wall, face to face with me. Without warning, I slipped my hand down, popped her jeans button open and unzipped her pants. "Cáel!" she hissed. Yum, Libra had gone panty-less as well. "Cáel," she repeated. Libra tried to stop my fingers from exploring. She was hampered by her desire to not make a scene while I was insistent. Nice sexy jeans are not only nice and sexy, they hug the hips. This meant I could peel the front of her pants open and work two fingers past her pubic hair to her puffy lips. "Stop," she whimpered. I didn't. I slipped a finger between her labia and she was moist and steamy. I wiggled a finger inside with no effort. "No one will see us," I murmured into Libra's ear. I wiggled my finger in deeper. "You are horrible," she moaned quietly. Her hands started out on my shoulders. A few seconds later, she migrated her arms down. I wasn't positive where she was going with that until she hooked her thumbs into her pants and slid them farther down. "Get it over with," she mumbled. She followed that up with tender kisses to my neck. Her moving her pants down allowed me to move a second finger in. All of that was a prelude. With my two slick fingers, I searched up for her clitoris. She (a clit is definitely a 'she') was hungering for my contact and offered up her tenderness to my attention. Libra's hand began clawing my abdomen through my shirt. Her nasal breathing was becoming ragged, so I eased off on the tempo my stimulation. I wasn't going to bring Libra to an embarrassing public display of sexual release. It took her a few seconds to figure out I wasn't teasing her, but shielding her from an uncontrolled release. "You are mean," her eyes blazed with lust as I sucked my fingers clean of her vaginal secretions. "Kiss me, or I swear to God I'm going to take you on one of these tables," I referred to the small tables the pizza parlor had for diners. Now Libra looked sultry and in charge. She rubbed her hips against my erection, appeared to contemplate her options and deigned to give me a kiss. It was barely a French kiss. Just enough to remind me I had taken advantage of her person and was being punished with pleasure. The box with the pizza slices barely made the toss to the sofa as Libra and I grappled with one another, yanking off our clothes and staggered to my bedroom. "You are going to fuck me so good for all the hell you've put me through," Libra erotically demanded. Ma'am, yes Ma'am. Prepared to do my duty, Ma'am. I decided to do something new for Libra. Trust me, you develop a sense for what sexual deviancies your sex partner has broached. This helps you figure out what they'd like to explore. That leads you to worrying about your partner's sexual history, but is a story for another time. "Hey!" Libra squawked as I handcuffed her left wrist. I wasn't done. With her right wrist beside her left, I looped the chain around a bar in the headboard and snared her other limb. "Motherfu;” she got out before I smothered her with a lip-lock. She put her teeth on my tongue then decided not to chew it off. I broke off the kiss. "Now you are going to do whatever I want you to," I gloated. "Scream, the cops come and you end up splashed all over the society page." Most likely a lie. "I'll never," she snarled as I rammed my dick in to the hilt. "Ah; you bastard," she grunted. Now I picked up my pace. Except having her hands bound, Libra was clearly getting into it. Right before climax, I eased off. Libra whined piteously. "Not yet," I murmured. When I repositioned her in doggy-style, my cock got back to work. This time, I alternated seriously deep cock-thrusts (not pounding) with spanking. Libra went wild; one of her most intense orgasms yet. Libra should have realized two things: my neighbors knew by now and the screams my bedmates generated, and Libra herself was truly an Angelic choir of erotic gratitude. "That; that; that was intense," Libra gasped. She was all sweat and electric; tired yet begging for more. "It gets better," I promised her as I freed her up. Given two minutes to rebound, I rolled over onto my back at her side. The cuffs were handed over and I placed my hands over my head. Libra's countenance was an explosion of thermal desire and numerous unanticipated opportunities. She straddled me, strung me up then; left. Huh? Libra didn't go far. She noticed my 'goodie' box which I had left nonchalantly available when we first tumbled in. What she pulled out didn't make me jump for joy; an ostrich feather, lube and a body wand (imagine a small mace, except the head is actually a vibrating ball). "So, you've done this before?" I questioned. "There is a ball-gag in there. Shut-up, behave, or I'll put it on you," Libra gave me a saucy threat. I nodded. Libra settled in beside me, worked the wand controls then rolled it along my stomach. "To answer your question; no, I've never used anything like this before, but I've wanted to. Now I have a delectable, helpless male with tons of stamina laid out before me." "This is going to be so much fun," she squealed with delight. "Maybe I should call Brooke?" She wasn't soliciting my opinion, just thinking aloud. She called Brooke who begged Libra for the chance to come over and help out. Libra promised Brooke could 'next time'. After that came the feather tickles, lubing up my cock, a hand job and finally using the wand on my cockhead until she shattered my resolve and I ejaculated. Libra licked all my creamy cum up, keeping eye contact through most of the process. For thirty seconds she left me with the sneaking suspicion she was going for round two. She freed me, gave me a good series of kisses then dropped down to bring my penis back to attention. That accomplish, Libra rolled my condom on, mounted me and slowly squirmed down my rod while mesmerizing me with her eyes. "Oh," she purred, "you are so, so bad." I sat up so that I was eye-level with her chin. Libra laid her forearms languidly over my shoulders, while mine deftly cupped each ass. "Does this mean you are breaking up with me?" I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. Libra made that squichy-angry play face. I was teasing and she knew I was teasing. "Do I have to hand-cuff you again?" Libra snickered. I slipped my right hand farther back and down. Using the liberal amount of lube Libra had lavished on my penis, I slicked up my forefinger and picked her sphincter. Libra gave a quick intake of breath. "For the sake of your backside, that might be wise," I teased right back. Libra pouted. "Are going to ream my poor, abused Henie?" she moped deceptively. Rule One plus the addendum; make the girl happy. If you make the girl happy, she'll figure out what makes you happy and do it for you. I lifted Libra up until my cock flopped out of her. It didn't take her two seconds. Her hand found my cock, pointed it up and steered it into her asshole with zero need for encouragement. "I can't believe you are making me do this," she groaned as her sphincter parted and my glans slipped in. I wasn't rushing things. I certainly wasn't coercing Lira in anyway either. She certainly relished my upper body strength that allowed me to match her pace in penetrating her. Once Libra was fully impaled, I rocked us over so that she lay on her back with her knees touching her breasts. A casual, relaxed screw followed. Yes, I could have pounded Libra and she would have loved it, except she was here for more than a series of orgasms. She wanted some kind of confirmation there was an 'us'. She hadn't wanted a relationship when we first met, or even after our first fuck. I was a hook-up; nothing more. The post-Felix episode with Brooke had changed that. I was far from acceptable, but more than a random fuck. Our status had become an enigma to her thus my approach with the soft anal fuck. I could certainly be a late night booty call, salvaging a bad night and making it good. This was a 'take him out for a weekend as a friend' change of events. I was still not in the clubhouse. Thirty minutes in bedroom while 'changing to go down to the pool with her other friends' they'd all know why she'd brought me along. Had Libra forgotten I was a Pound Puppy of the worst sort? Yes, but I felt no desire to remind her. We'd revisit the issue during that first weekend; guaranteed. Libra kept up a quiet bit of banter for a few minutes. Her words were meaningless. Her tonal quality was what I was paying attention to. I kept up a conversation which I would never recall. It is an art form; coherent babbling. My partner's words faded away into groans and grunts. "Ready?" I rumbled my hunger for her wantonness. Libra nodded once, hesitated then nodded several times vigorous

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

Bells Hells make haste to the Raven's Crest temple in Vasselheim by invitation from the Matron of Ravens, but the welcome they receive puts them all on the edge...BEACON  We're excited to bring you even MORE with a Beacon membership! Start your 7-day free trial today at https://beacon.tv/join and get unparalleled access to the shows you love completely ad-free! You'll receive NEW Beacon exclusive series, instant access to VODs & podcasts, live event pre-sales, merch discounts, & a private Discord. YOUTUBE MEMBERS / TWITCH SUBSCRIBERSTwitch Subscribers and YouTube Members gain instant access to VODs of our shows, moderated live chats, and custom emojis & badges:  https://www.youtube.com/criticalrole/join  https://www.twitch.tv/criticalrole     "It's Thursday Night (Critical Role Theme Song)" by Peter Habib and Sam RiegelOriginal Music by Omar Fadel, Hexany Audio, Ghiya Rushidat, Karam Salem, Neal Acree, and Colm R. McGuinness"Welcome to Marquet" Art Theme by Colm McGuinnessAdditional Music by Universal Production Music, Epidemic Sounds, and 5 AlarmCharacter Art by Hannah FriederichsAnimated Introduction by Kamille Areopagita, Kevin Areopagita, Mark Adams and Peggy Shi Due to the improv nature of Critical Role and other RPG content on our channels, some themes and situations that occur in-game may be difficult for some to handle. If certain episodes or scenes become uncomfortable, we strongly suggest taking a break or skipping that particular episode.Your health and well-being is important to us and Psycom has a great list of international mental health resources, in case it's useful: http://bit.ly/PsycomResources

Ideas Covered:Small talk doulaThey blew it the palmsTed DansonThe matron's chairPasta tomato cheese sauceThe liberation of appliancesIndecision impulseMaking new desserts and naming them after singersFruit. Let's live hereMandatory JoanExploration: LIVE! is a weekly podcast in which Brooklyn comedians Charlie Bardey and Natalie Rotter-Laitman explore some of the most (and least) pressing ideas, theories, axioms and concepts out there. Subscribe and Rate Exploration: LIVE! on Apple Podcasts and Spotify and leave us a review to read on a future episode!Exploration: LIVE! has a Patreon! Subscribe here for 3 bonus episodes every month!Follow Charlie on Instagram and Twitter.Follow Natalie on Instagram and Twitter.Follow the show:Twitter: @explorationliveInstagram: @explorationlivecomedyTikTok: @explorationlivecomedyAdvertise on Exploration Live via Gumball.fm.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We Were Dangerous  In 1954 New Zealand, Nellie and Daisy attempt to escape an institution for delinquent girls, but they are caught and it triggers a relocation to a facility on a remote island. The duo become a trio as well-to-do Lou joins them, and life on the island takes shape under the command of the devout Matron. The trio rail against the system, dubious of the benevolence of the bible and taking refuge in their blossoming friendship. It's hard to reform girls who don't believe they need reforming. However, a sense of doom settles in when experimental forms of punishment take place in the dead of night. Nellie and Daisy plot rebellion, but unexpectedly find themselves at odds with Lou, who is afraid to break the rules.    Midas Man   In 1960s Liverpool, Brian Epstein encountered a rock band who would take the world by storm.    LISTEN ABOVE See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

New Zealand film We were dangerous is set during the famous "moral panic" of 1954, when a new invention - the "teenager" - seemed to terrorize the powers that be! Three rebel girls decide to get out from under. Starring Erana James (Uproar), Nathalie Morris (One lane bridge) and newcomer Manaia Hall. With Rima Te Wiata (Hunt for the Wilderpeople) as the Matron.

Welcome to The Violet Vulture! I'm solo behind the mic to discuss something I've been asked often since stepping out of the broom closet: my budding relationship with pagan deities. In this episode, we'll get into the following and then some: The moments in late 2023/early 2024 that contributed to my evolution from deity-curious to self-professed devotee What all came up after channeling underworld deities for the first time Some realizations I've had about how Persephone, Helios, Hades, and Hekate have always been in my corner. Especially my experiences in rituals and when I explore my Akashic Records My lifelong fascination with mythology, including retelling like Percy Jackson, Hercules, and niche af mini-series A touch of insight into what my devotional practice currently looks like The many ways in which my life has improved since honoring my connection to my Matron deities and the other gods on my team (including how one might've legit saved me from severe illness) I offer recommendations for people to follow and engage with for further education on underworld deities I offer some insight into how nothing is lost when you have different beliefs than the ones you love (and so much can be gained) And I've got some tough love for those of y'all out there who worry about being “too weird” or alienating the people in your world If you're ready to hear about my descent into the underworld and the joy of embracing my inner death witch, this one is for you. Angelica Cresci's website - https://www.angelicacresci.com/ Jess's Kore-Persephone devotional Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/arrhetoskoura/ Jess's devotional blog for the goddess Persephone - https://ineffablemaiden.wordpress.com/ My website⁠⁠⁠⁠ Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@la_soy_emmy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Email: ⁠⁠⁠⁠emmy@soyemmy.com⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠Book a reading.⁠⁠ ⁠⁠Resin & Scrawls on Substack. ⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Spooky Sentinel on Substack⁠⁠⁠⁠.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Shop Lively Ghosts with my affiliate link.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Wanna support my work? Buy me a Ko-Fi. ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Music: ⁠https://www.purple-planet.com --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/soy-emmy/support

Ariella becomes the object of many desires.by jane700bond, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When Ariella awoke, she was seated in one of the easy chairs in Miss Peacock's office, covered in a light blanket. Her clothes were lying in a neat pile next to her, smelling fresh and newly ironed. On a small table was a note. “Finishing class, back soon, stay and rest x x x Gabriella P.”Gabriella Peacock was an Animagus, Ariella realised. A witch who could shapeshift, in her case, into a white cat.With a small flash of magic, Gertrude, the house elf reappeared and leered at Ariella. “Enjoy sex do we, young human? Thinks me you are only just starting to learn. Gertrude good teacher. Human want to learn sex magic? Me help young human Sex Goddess be, like mistress Peacock?”Ariella looked at the strange creature and wondered if Gertrude might be an ally in her competition against Lucille. “Gertrude, can you really help?” she asked.“Gertrude made mistress Sex Goddess and Gertrude she like you. Very pretty human, Gertrude likes pretty young humans.”Ariella looked a little nervous, was the elf wanting to make love to her too? Now? She was not sure she could cope with another sex session just yet and, well how did an elf make love?Seeing her discomfort, Gertrude laughed at her and said “No sex now. We learn lessons later. Now to dress is time. You no miss lunch for sex with elves! We give you good time later.”Ariella uncovered herself and stood up naked expecting to pick up and put on her clothes, but the elf instead helped her. She jumped onto the chair with Ariella's bra. This brought the small creature up to Ariella's height. With gentle hands the elf assisted the gal with it on, carefully seating Ariella's breasts one by one into each cup and then fastening it securely at the front. Ariella, thought the elf's touch quite erotic.The elf then got Ariella to turn around and helped her into the blouse, the elf's baby-smooth face leaning around over Ariella's neck to carefully fasten the buttons slowly and sexily one by one, almost like a strip-tease in reverse. The elf went slowly from the bottom to the top, taking particular attention with those that were straining over her chest, caressing Ariella's breasts to ensure the cotton was smoothed around each fabulous boob. Ariella found herself fascinated by the pale, large-eyed creature whose fingers were warm and smooth against her skin.“Gosh!” thought Ariella aware of a heat rising in her cheeks, “It's happening again!”Finally, Gertrude got down from the chair and lifted up the kilt, carefully wrapping it around Ariella's waist, brushing the gal's silk-smooth naked thighs and taut midriff with her hands as she did so. It was, Ariella thought, like foreplay. Then jumping on the chair and with a quick soft kiss to Ariella's cheek, the elf disappeared in her distinct puff of magic and Ariella stood alone and more than half-turned on.Miss Peacock suddenly bustled in.“Thank you, Ariella, for waiting for me and not running away - as you, might well have done after what my cunt did to your cunt. Sorry about that!”Ariella looked at the Divinity teacher and said “Gabriella, may I call you Gabriella?”Gabriella nodded. “It was okay, and really rather fun. But I didn't know you were an Animagus, and it was all a bit of a surprise, especially when you put your paw inside me, it was so silky smooth and my organisms were like an electric shock. I just fainted away with too much ecstasy! ”She was silent for a moment and then said: “I have to confess I have been incredibly horny over the last few weeks and the way you treated me was incredibly arousing. I mean, I seem to want to have sex continually. Is that normal?”Gabriella smiled at her. “It happened to me too at your age, which is why I first became Sex Goddess in my college senior year. It's nothing to worry about, just part of being a nymphomaniac, or in my case now, a 28-year-old nymphomaniac. Ye gods, by the powers of magic, the smell of you when I found you under the desk was so intoxicating! The smell of sex around you so powerful that I was in a frenzy of longing. I just wanted to pull your clothes off there and then and drink all that sex juice straight out of you. But at least I managed to hold-off until we got in here.Some of the powers you are developing can be quite dangerous around the wrong people … I hope you don't think I'm one of the wrong people.”Ariella shook her head. “No.” she said, “You are rather nice, a bit dominating! But you're quite attractive, even if a bit older than me and, well that was one exciting climax. In fact, could we make love again sometime, soon? The next time, let me give you an orgasm too?”Gabriella, took Ariella's hand and both sat on the sofa. Gabriella answered “I would be proud to make love with beautiful you any time you like! But you need to understand all sorts of people are starting to find you irresistible. It was the same with me when I was 18. Have you noticed strange behaviour from other people?”Ariella thought for a moment, “Let me see, Dr. Snake had a hard-on when I spoke to him in his office yesterday. I thought he was going to rip my top off at one point. The new gal, Lucille started kissing me and we made love within a few minutes of meeting, and then, er, we had a foursome!So far today, well two guys made love with me this morning, never mind George who put his hand under my bum when I sat down in class, and then I fucked him. And then of course I discovered you loved licking cum from my cunt and you paw-fucked me when you were a cat. Even Gertrude, your house elf seems to find me sexually alluring! Yes, people are behaving strange, but you know, I don't think I want it to stop! I just seem to want more and more sex! That's a bit worrying.”Gabriella sighed and turning and putting her hands on Ariella's shoulders said “Ariella, you must understand two things. One, you have developed a natural powerful glamour. It is a sort of magic which attracts people to you.” Gabriella's hands moved slowly from Ariella's shoulders and around and under her arms where she pressed them against the sides of the coed's breasts. “Even I find your power nearly irresistible.” The teacher sighed, moved her hands around and cupped the tight mounds. “By wand and magic I need to resist you or we'll be at it again, like rabbits.”“Nice idea!” giggled Ariella.Gabriella moved away and said sternly “The second thing you must know is that Lucille is a dangerous black witch who takes after her father and if the college is to be safe, you mustn't let her become Sex Goddess instead of you.” Her glamour, is not like yours, it is a spell she uses to manipulate people, whereas you - you just turn people on!This was astonishing news and Ariella asked the older woman to explain. It seemed that the Marquis l'Astic Le Grand had been arrested for turning a class of Mademoiselles at a local convent in France into his sex slaves. Using spells, he and other black practitioners had raped the gals, who were completely mesmerised and unable to resist the magicians' evil desires. It appeared that Lucille may have been taught some of the spells and it was suspected that she had also joined in, or even organised her own orgies. The rumour was she had enslaved some of the local guys to meet her own particular whims. Hence, why she had escaped the country when the Magic Police called to arrest her father. Lucille has a desire for power, like the Dark Lord, and wants to enslave people for her evil purposes.“Ariella said "Whoops! I might have given her the wrong impression about what being Sex Goddess meant. I think I said something like ‘slaves to your desire'. I also think I saw some of her black magic last night. She hypnotised Dave and Tony and although she and I had some fast and exciting sex I wasn't sure the guys enjoyed being mere sex machines.”Gabriella looked into the young woman's eyes. “The Sex Goddess awakens desires in others and lets them fulfil their own fantasies through her own vast appetite for sex. She does not enslave! She gives and takes pleasure and fun. You must understand this and you must use your power to gain the crown. Otherwise we will see a Briarwood full of slave automata, no longer truly human. Do you understand?”Ariella nodded and the woman came close and, breathing heavily, brushed the coed's lips with her own. Then seeming to remember herself, pulled away again to stand beside the chair where Ariella sat.“I must give you weapons in this war, and maybe Snake will help too. The future is occluded and I cannot see it clearly. It is a close call as to which one will come out on top. Yes, I must teach you spells and charms and Dr. Snake has some powerful potions that might be useful. Now, I think it is time for lunch!”These memories of Gabriella Peacock that morning made up Ariella's mind. She got off the bed and without even bothering to remove the charm that hid the hole in the wall, slipped through to the guys' bedroom next door and slipped into bed beside Dave.It was now about two in the morning and George, wand in hand slipped down the stairs to the Briarwood College common room and silently opened the door to the staircase to the female dormitories. With soundless unshod feet he gradually made his way up the stairs until, when he reached one landing, the figure of a gal appeared in the dimmed stair lights, coming from one of the rooms. She only wore a pair of pyjama bottoms and her top-half was naked. Almost in panic George used his wand to cast a stillness spell on the gal who halted halfway to the bathroom.George moved closer and began to take an interest in this unexpected delight. She was a coed called Peggy. She had tussled mousey blonde hair which framed her pretty young face with its small nose and very kissable mouth. Her eyes were closed and she breathed softly under his spell. George was fascinated and experimented with a soft kiss on her slightly open lips. There was no reaction.His eyes wandered downwards and took in her small boobs with their darker brown centres, the colour of milk chocolate. He could not resist but to cup them in his inexpert hands. Despite losing his virginity to Ariella, he had never before seen and felt a real chick's breasts. They were so soft to the touch, like silk. His dick stuck out from his dressing gown in excitement as he gently rubbed the teats, feeling the softness of the aureole and the firmness of the nipples. George's dick pressed against the gal's pyjama bottoms, catching on the material as he pressed against her.George was in heaven, the babe stood silent except for her quiet regular breaths as he took one nipple in his mouth and whirled his tongue around it, tasting the salty sweetness of her young skin. Another first for George.His hands roamed around her naked back as he suckled the beautiful breast and slowly moved down and in under the material which was covering her small soft ass.The feel of a real tit was driving him insane with excitement. Moving his mouth to her other tit, he slowly pulled down the pyjama bottoms and fondled her now naked arse. His boner pressed against the chick's stomach and he rubbed it around the smooth young skin in delight. “Oh, Peggy” he thought “I could fuck you and you would never know.”He moved his mouth once more to the slightly parted lips and put his tongue between them, but they could not get past her still closed beautiful teeth. Disappointed, he moved back to licking the delicious tits as he tried to force his dick between her legs. But again, with her legs together where she stood, there was no way in. Likewise, her cunt lips while soft and pliable, would not let his probing fingers advance into the locked cavern within.Disappointed, George realised he was trying to rape a soft, but unpliable statue and where was the fun in that when Ariella was in her bed upstairs. Dissatisfied, George stood back from the beautiful Peggy, gave a last rub of her arse with his dick and then pulled up the pyjama bottoms back up over that so fucking tempting ass.He crept to the next staircase, and once at the corner, turned back, and used his wand to remove the stillness spell and creep creepily further up the tower.When the release spell touched her, Peggy came to as though waking. She wondered for a moment muzzily why her breasts felt cold and damp and the nipples were hard, but needing to urgently get to the bathroom, shook her head and moved off. Later she dreamt of firm hands caressing her body and enjoyed a beautifully erotic dream.Georgy Porgy got to the top of the staircase where he knew Ariella slept. He did not know who she shared with, but once in the dim room it became obvious to him that only one bed was occupied, so that was all right. Stealthily, George knelt by the bedside and slowly pushed a hand under the duvet where it met the warm back of a naked sleeper. Very subtly he caressed the skin and a moan issued from the sleeper.He stopped for a moment and then pushed his other hand under the duvet and began to stroke the gal's body up and down the curve of the back.The gal was facing away from him with her legs one over the other and George soon found the curve of her hips and the crease in her ass. His hands moulded the cheeks and the chick moaned again. Then one hand found the gap between her legs and he pushed on to find the slit of her cunt lips. Here he held his breath and then gently pushed the knuckle of his thumb back along the slit, parting the lips slightly.Another groan from the babe and George was aware of his aching dick pushing against the cold iron of the bedframe as his knelt there.With the one hand massaging the cunt lips, his other explored its way over the babe's arm to find the breast that it cuddled. With another groan, the arm moved out of his way and to his delight and lust-filled wonder his hand found itself holding a warm soft breast.Suddenly the babe moaned and turned over towards him, trapping the one hand under her ass, thumb tightly in place on the cunt lips and the other being clamped in place on the gal''s left breast by her arm.George knew about trapped hands and female genitalia from his experience with Ariella from the previous morning and to his mounting excitement he realised that the cunt was getting warmer and wetter, beginning to exude its sex oils. He worked his fingers around so that his thumb was pushing up into the slit whilst his fingers found the gals clit.George was both in agony and in heaven. His monstrous hard-on was now under the bedframe and pressing against ancient springs, but exploring the gal's cunt more than made up for it. As he massaged, he used his head to push the duvet back to reveal the fabulous body beneath. His head went down on other now exposed breast and for the second time that night he was sucking a real gal's tits. With an effort, despite his trapped hands he moved his ass backwards and brought his dick up and over the bed without scraping it on odd bits of sharp metal. The sleeper slept on, apparently unconscious of its increasing sexual arousal and very unaware of Georgy Porgy getting his evil way.Slowly, George moved his trapped hand from under the chick's ass and used it instead to attack the cunt from clit downwards, fingers now pressing deeply into the babe's vagina whilst his thumb played with the clit. The dame's head moved and suddenly there were hot lips around his dick, sucking deeply on his overexcited manhood.He looked at the head and in shock realised this was not Ariella, it was the French dame she had seen her with earlier. But George wasn't complaining, he was enjoying himself thoroughly and his fingers fucked deep into the dame's cunt and his dick went ever deeper into the dame's mouth.Just when he thought he was going to cum, the dame, Lucille? Yes, Lucille was her name, released his manhood and pulled his hand out of her cunt. In a swift and almost impossible movement, she lifted the guy from the floor and plonked him on his back on the bed. Lucille then straddled him, rubbing her cunt lips up and down his shaft. She then lifted herself up and plunged herself down on him hard, his dick going deep within her.She was growling like a tiger as she rode him, up and down, thrusting as if her life depended upon it. One hand massaging her breasts with an unbelievable roughness and the other rubbing hard on her clit. The guy appeared to be forgotten, he was just a dildo and she was taking her pleasure. George felt his hips bang under the pressure of her abandoned movements, the bed jolting hard and noisily on the springs.George was aware of the wave of cum released from his ball sack that eagerly sought entrance into the dame's awaiting vagina. He came, and still she rode him, not allowing any rest. He whimpered as he fought to release himself from the mad bitch who was fucking him even faster now with his cum juices lubing her cunt. She came with a mad roar, but still went on, up and down faster and faster. George felt another load about to shoot and shoot it did deep inside her and she came again. Still Lucille did not stop but bounced up and down on his aching cock.Finally, after another orgasm, Lucille left his cock and made a leap like a frog to his head that left her with her dripping cunt pushing on George's mouth.“Tongue me, you bastard!” Lucille shouted and George found his tongue deep inside her, his own sperm mixed with her flow of sex juices pouring into his mouth. His nose was painfully pressed against her wet clit Lucille worked her clit against it, whilst his tongue lapped at the still flowing juices. Lucille's hand went behind her to find George's now limp cock and she started to work it like she was trying to milk a cow. Rubbing up and down its we length until again it rose.In another swift movement Lucille turned around, forcing her cunt lips over George's mouth. She grabbed her wand from beside the bed, shouted “Cumus atlanticus” pointing at the cock and then clamped her mouth over it drinking deeply at the new torrent of cum that was spraying out.Finally, Lucille appeared to be satisfied, she lifted her mouth from the still spraying cock and pushed her cunt hard into George's face. Then she turned a final time and dibbled his jizz from her mouth over George's face and into his eyes before getting off his limp and aching body and heading for the shower.With great difficulty and in severe pain, George grabbed his dressing gown and fled down the stairs and was rewarded with a scream when another beautiful naked chick appeared on her way to the bathroom.Dr. Adolphus Snake was a great and powerful wizard and following the incident in his Necromancy class where he had been tricked by a spell from an 18-year-old new gal to cum all over her in front of the class, he was seething. Lucille L'Astique was playing with fire and he was going to have his revenge.Snake prided himself on how in his ten years of being House Master, back at Slither-In, he had never let his animal urges get the better of him. No matter how tempting any of his female students were (and some were very tempting), he had never taken advantage and seduced them, always resisting their young shapely bodies and beautiful faces.Now, to be clear, that is not to say he couldn't fantasize about them, not to say he could not enjoy erotic wet-dream orgies of wrestling with their naked bodies. If he imagined lifting the kilt of Ariella or Peggy and thrusting his cock deep inside them from behind, it didn't mean he was actually planning to it. If he fantasized about beautiful cum-swapping teens massaging each other's breast with his cum after an enormous shared orgasm, that was his affair. If he dreamt about Peggy sitting on his face while Ariella thrust up and down on his lightning rod, they were his dreams, he liked them and he would keep them to himself, thank you very much.Snake's nocturnal skills with lucid dreaming meant he could fulfil his most wicked desires in his sleep. He would frequently awake in the morning to damp sheets covered in the cum he had just dreamt he had spurted into his most beautiful student's mouth, or erupted in torrents over her fabulous naked body. He had just never taken advantage of any of them physically, not even the irresistible Gabriella Peacock. Gabriella could make guys cum just by looking at them.“Nice to have her back in the college!” he thought.No, but that supermodel strawberry blonde bitch Lucille was a different matter and she needed to be punished for showing him up in-front of Priti, Sabrina and of course Henry.This last night, whilst beautiful Ariella slept soundly in Dave's arms and whilst George had failed to fuck pretty Peggy, Adolphus Snake did not dream about any of them as normally he might have wished. Instead he had recurring nightmares about Lucille growing fangs and drinking the life-blood out of him. So, it was a tired and sorry Snake that crawled out of his, for once, crisp dry sheets. He dressed in just shirt and chinos for the coming day was forecast to be rather hot for Scotland.Ariella had slept well, but was woken this sunny morning by two things. Firstly, Dave had an enormous hard-on which, although he was asleep, was pushing at the lips of her labia as he snuggled up behind her in a gentle embrace. The second was the urgent need to get to the toilet. So, regrettably she carefully removed Dave's arm which was lying over her warm breasts, slipped out of the narrow bed and through the invisible hole in the wall into the room she shared with Lucille L'Astique. As she found her robe, she glanced at Lucille who was asleep, her twisted duvet snaked in knots around her naked golden limbs. Her pert breasts and nipples of darker burnished gold were beautiful to behold. Her cupid-bow lips were slightly parted showing pearlescent teeth.Ariella regretted that such a beautiful golden creature had such a black heart. She went to the bathroom, showered and then got dressed without waking Lucille, her eyes forever glancing at the French dame's perfect beautiful and sexy form with a instinctual desire that warmed her belly.Once dressed Ariella, left the sleeping Lucille and started her way down the tower with the intention of going to the lavatory, then breakfast in the college refectory, with her best friend Peggy.Earlier, hulking Henry had awoken to the sound of whimpering. In the morning light he looked across at George who was sitting on his bed with his dressing gown on and making strange noises. Henry lumbered out of bed, his usual morning hard-on beginning to subside, and pulled on his own gown as he went over to see what was wrong with his room-mate.