Podcasts about miss americana

Welcome to the Identity Theft Resource Center's (ITRC's) Weekly Breach Breakdown for March 21, 2025. I'm Alex Achten, Senior Director of Communications & Media Relations of the ITRC. Thanks to Sentilink for supporting the ITRC and this podcast. Each week, we look at the most recent events and trends related to data security and privacy. Do we have any Taylor Swift fans that listen to the podcast? I am sure we do. If so, some of you probably attended the highly successful Eras Tour, jamming out to songs like “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak,” “Lover,” “Fearless,” and “Love Story.” You weren't the only one taking in the tunes. Apparently, so were the bad actors due to a well-executed Taylor Swift ticket scam. Follow on LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/company/idtheftcenter/ Follow on Twitter: twitter.com/IDTheftCenter

You need to calm down, but we know it'll be hard because in this episode, we are diving into historical criticism! We explore the context in which Taylor's songs were created, starting with “Tim McGraw,” the first Taylor Swift single of all time. We then transition into the world of Lover with “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” and “You Need to Calm Down.” Join us as we explore how looking at the historical context of these songs helps deepen our understanding and appreciation of Taylor's music!    Subscribe to get new episode updates: aptaylorswift.substack.com/subscribe Stay up to date at aptaylorswift.com    Mentioned in this episode:  Tim McGraw - She's My Kind of Rain  Tim McGraw - Live Like You Were Dying  E11: Show and Tell - Marxist Theory Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder Grease the film Barbie the film  Mean Girls the film ***   Episode Highlights:  [00:40] Introduction to Historical Criticism  [4:58] “Tim McGraw” from Debut [16:37] “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” from Lover  [29:47] “You Need to Calm Down” from Lover Follow AP Taylor Swift podcast on social!  TikTok → tiktok.com/@APTaylorSwift Instagram → instagram.com/APTaylorSwift YouTube → youtube.com/@APTaylorSwift Link Tree →linktr.ee/aptaylorswift Bookshop.org → bookshop.org/shop/apts Libro.fm →  tinyurl.com/aptslibro Contact us at aptaylorswift@gmail.com  Affiliate Codes:  Krowned Krystals - krownedkrystals.com use code APTS at checkout for 10% off!  Libro.fm - Looking for an audiobook? Check out our Libro.fm playlist and use code APTS30 for 30% off books found here tinyurl.com/aptslibro   This podcast is neither related to nor endorsed by Taylor Swift, her companies, or record labels. All opinions are our own. Intro music produced by Scott Zadig aka Scotty Z.

Come for a ride with The Girls! This week Vanessa is presenting “Passenger Princess” by Morgan Elizabeth! This grumpy/sunshine book follows Ava, who enters the Miss Americana beauty pageant on a whim to support her friends. Ava (Miss New Jersey) actually wins the grand title, much to the frustration of Miss Utah! Ava is assigned a big, handsome bodyguard named Jaime who has to protect Ava not only from danger, but also from his feelings. When a morality clause threatens both Ava's need for Jamie and Jamie's retirement (which is on the line!), can they be “good” or will they try those things she reads about in her spicy books? Listen to find out!New Episodes out every Tuesday! Join our Patreon to receive ad-free early (and bonus!) episodes and more! Patreon.com/ClutchMyPearlsPod Watch the video version of this podcast on our YouTube channel! Follow @ClutchMyPearlsPod on TikTok, Twitter, Instagram and GoodReads! We have MERCH! Check out our #linkinbio to go to our store!Do you have a smut recommendation for the girls? Send an email to: ClutchMyPearlsPod@gmail.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Can Swifties cause an earthquake? Two fans explore how Taylor Swift's followers shake up the charts and redefine fan-celebrity dynamics.

 A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit's favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb. Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving"Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter," Miss Americana said. "She's flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I'll help her write there's no way she can fail."Professor Whirter shook his head. "Miss Americana!" he gasped. "The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!"The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A's on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana's sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor's newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana's expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. "Professor," she growled, "my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade's money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?"The Professor's blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. "Alright, alright," he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine."Ready?" Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum."Ready!" Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it."Perfect," she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket."Told you I heard a noise," the tall Pilgrim said to the short one."Heaven defend us!" the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them."Hello," Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. "Stay back, witch!" he said.His companion seemed less sure. "Are you sure she's a witch?" he asked."She's a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?" the short one asked."Hmm," the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. "Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,"He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. "Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!" he said. "No speaking hexes, either!"Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims' long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. "You boys are making a big mistake," she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. "Fortunately I can correct it,"But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker."Miss Americana!" Professor Whirter's voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. "You cannot harm anyone in this period!" he said. "Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!""Oh," Miss Americana gulped. "Right,"She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less."On second thought," she said, "I surrender."She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana's hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain."There," he said, backing up. "The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.""If you say so," Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim's head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. "Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out."Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. "Let's take her to the Elders," he said. "Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her."Miss Americana rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, you oafs!" she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day's large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. 'Who would wear a bikini during this time period?' she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea."We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest," the tall pilgrim said."We think she's a witch," the short one said. "Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?"Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly."I am not a witch!" she boldly declared. "I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan's palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!"'That ought to fool these simpletons,' she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony's current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her."Hmm," Captain Standish said. "If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so," he said."Prove it? And how should I do that?" Miss Americana asked, indignantly."If you were a harem girl," Captain Standish said, "then you know how to dance like one. So, show us." He turned his head to the man next to him. "Do you permit this Reverend?" he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana's flesh. But then he nodded. "If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it," he said.Americana gasped. "H-how can you ask me that?" she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. "The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission," he told her. "So if your story is true then prove it." He nodded up to the large table. "You can do it on there, if you would be so kind."Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily."Very well," she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. "But I cannot dance in these!" she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana's manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. "Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!" she said.And with that, she began to dance."H-holy shit," one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe."That's blasphemy," a second beside him murmured. "Also, god fucking damn," he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl."Verily, my friends," he said, "I was so distracted by the witch's performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize' stuff into the fire and, look what happened!"His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster's ear."Did the Lord really condone this, William?" he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. "After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale," he said. "Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up." Taking some of Captain Standish's popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder."Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!" he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. "The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!"At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana's wiggling and grinding bubble-ass."What?!" Governor Bradford gasped. "But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we'll starve! Why have they turned back?!"The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana."When the Sachem's party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one," he said. "The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,"At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock."My ass is not fat!" she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. "Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn't lead to fat!" she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. "What's a stair-masterer?" he asked. "Some sort of Turkish siege engine?"Myles shrugged, puzzled."Never mind that!" Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community's attention off Miss Americana. "This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!""Hmm," said Captain Standish. "What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.""But the whole point is we have no food!" Reverend Brewster pointed out. "What sort of peace offering could we give?""We could give them our guns, or the cannon," Governor Bradford said."And surrender our only military leverage?" Captain Standish scoffed. "I would sooner dump them in the sea!""The Indians are yet heathens," Reverend Brewster pointed out. "They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering' might they be interested in?"For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped."No," she whispered. "No, no, No!" Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. "How, how can you even consider that?!" she hissed. "Aren't you Puritans?! A Godly people?!"Reverend Brewster shook his head."We are," he affirmed. "But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!"Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana's body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them."I know well the meaning of the scarlet A's," Reverend Brewster said. "The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?"Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones upon her gloves, and finally remembered her Hawthorne.'Great Justice! Why didn't I pay more attention in high school lit class?' she thought, marking the first time in all of recorded history that this has occurred.But then she looked back up, and saw that all the Pilgrims were nodding in agreement with their spiritual leader. She swallowed.Suddenly, a sound came over her microphone. "You made the choice to go back into the past," Professor Whirter chided her. He could not quite keep the relish out of his voice, to see the arrogant heroine hoisted upon her own scantily-clad petard. "It is your duty now to make sure history goes forward, no matter what that takes!" He cut the feed again.Americana gasped. But then, squirming before the staring Pilgrims, she bowed her head and then slowly nodded."Very well," she said. "If it is what must happen, then so be it."At this, one of the few surviving female Pilgrims could remain properly silent no longer."Hey!" she snapped, from where she stood in the door of her roughly-built house, an apron over her simple dress and her hands soiled with flour from her long labors to prepare the day's feast. "You might fool them," she said, nodding at the men, "but you can't fool me. Given how you just danced in front of my husband, and that after all this time you still wear that harem attire with relish, don't pretend you don't want every cock you can take you thrice-damned Jezebel!"At this, Miss Americana gasped in shock. But she did not get a chance to respond, for around her the men had already launched into preparing their response, it had to be sent swiftly, before the Native column could get too far. With haste, a runner was sent, vanishing into the woods.In due time, a large party of Native Americans emerged from the forest and began to approach. In the meantime, Miss Americana had gotten down off the table, and now stood under guard nearby, beside and in front of the table of the elders. Miss Americana gulped in trepidation when she saw their numbers, there may have been forty or so adult male Pilgrims left, but there were more than twice that number of Indians approaching, all of them men.At the head of the column, there came a grand and muscular figure with burnished bronze skin, a large head-dress on his head. This, she knew from history and from the whispered comments of the Pilgrim elders just beside her, was Massasoit, the Great Sachem of the Wampanoag people. It was only the treaty he had signed with the now-late Governor Carver, and its attendant protection from raiding and repeated deliveries of food, that had enabled the meager settlement around her to survive at all. At his side walked another Native man in a mixture of native and Pilgrim garb, from more comments among the elders Americana discerned that this was Tisquantum, better known to most white schoolchildren as 'Squanto', the Pilgrims' tutor and interpreter. Although he normally lived amongst the Pilgrims, he had gone off to help escort Massasoit in for this very important meeting.They were also, she could not help but notice, much more buff and handsome than she expected. As she gazed upon them, a strange tingle ran up and down between her legs, accompanied by a sudden and mysterious abundance of fluids.Behind Massasoit came a column of nearly a hundred Wampanoag warriors; a few came armed, but most were instead carrying great baskets filled with food. Turkeys; fish; pumpkins; maize; squash and cranberries, all in enormous quantity. Five recently felled deer were also carried, each on the shoulders to two strapping Wampanoag hunters. The Pilgrims' own supplies were very meager, more so than they would even admit to in the historical record, and Miss Americana realized that without the Indians' food the First Thanksgiving Feast would instead be replaced by a Great Starvation, and the probable extinction of the Plymouth colony.However, although they had come back, the Native American party remained suspicious. The majority of the column stopped just short of the entrance to the colony, and only Massasoit, Squanto, and a small honor guard of strapping warriors came forward to meet the Elders at their table."Greetings, Squanto," Governor Bradford said, standing. "And holy Greetings to the great king Massasoit, may the blessings of our God be upon him.""Greetings, Governor," Squanto replied. He bowed slightly, and gestured to his muscular boss beside him. "But the Great Sachem's mind is not rested. This one," he said, nodding towards Miss Americana, "and her, impressive, proportions, caused him some distress, that perhaps he had been lied to. I understand this is not the case?"Behind him, one by one, each of the native warriors was leaning out and gaping at Miss Americana in awe. In all their days and travels, they had never seen breasts nearly as enormous as hers, nor a figure quite so bountifully and visibly fertile."Please express our deep apologies for the misunderstanding to the Sachem," Governor Bradford replied. "This woman," he said, gesturing toward where Miss Americana stood chained, "is not a member of our community. We desired to give him a gift worthy of his own generosity, but as you know we have no food to spare. So we," He glanced at the two Pilgrims who had captured Americana, and still held her leash. "Obtained her," he decided to say at last, "so that we could have an appropriate present to reward him for his magnanimity."Squanto turned to Massasoit, and they shared a brief conversation in the Wampanoag tongue, which Americana could not understand, and, she gathered from their nervous squirming, the Pilgrims mostly could not either. Then Squanto turned back to them."I see," he said. He eyed Miss Americana up and down. "The Great Sachem wants to know, exactly what is the nature of this, gift?"Sitting near and behind her, Reverend Brewster looked up at Miss Americana's staggering curves."You reply to that one, Scarlet-Lettered One," he told her. "From what we have seen of your instincts with that body, you should not need words to do so,"Miss Americana blushed deeply. Then, she nodded. Before Massasoit, Squanto, the Elders, the Wampanoag warriors, and the entire Pilgrim community, she walked over to stand before the end of the Pilgrims' great main table. This faced back, directly towards where Massasoit stood, some few meters behind her. Reaching up, blush deepening on her cheeks, she put her hand between her breasts, and with a flick undid her golden star-shaped bra catch. Her huge bra, nevertheless under vast strain to contain her super-human rack, exploded apart, allowing her gigantic breasts to spill forth to jostle and sway before everyone."God, damn!" she heard Myles Standish say. Reverend Brewster, sitting right beside him, was himself too occupied by the dropping of his own jaw to call him on his blasphemy. Even the Pilgrim women appeared breathless at the sight of Americana's giant udders. A great hew and shout rose among the Wampanoag column, pointing and gaping in disbelief. Even Massasoit himself, who to this point had stood tall and still like a bronzed god among lesser men, seemed to be affected. Though he said nothing, as Miss Americana's huge breasts shook before him his eyebrows went up, and Miss Americana herself swallowed, as she noticed what seemed to be the stirrings of something disturbingly large in the front of his deerskin trousers.But she could not stop. Shrugging out of her bra, she turned and laid it on the table before her. Then, reaching back, she slipped her gloved hands into the hips of her panties. She squirmed for a few seconds, as she felt the eyes of every single member of both nations staring at her squirming ass. Then slowly, bending low, she guided her panties up and over her ass, and down her thighs. She slipped one boot out of them, then the other, and left them in a tiny colorful heap between her feet.Then, her lips trembling and her cheeks bright pink under her mask, Miss Americana made the one signal a woman could make that, regardless of language and culture, no man could mis-understand. Bending over, she put both hands on the table. Her voluptuous ass lifted up high and wiggling behind her, she slowly slid her boots wider and wider apart, until her long and mighty legs were spread at a nearly forty-five degree angle to either side. Then lifting her head, she looked back over her shoulder, her blue eyes blinking moistly. Her dripping cunt was pointed straight back at Massasoit, gaping slightly to show her tender inner lips between the thicker outer ones, in clear and open invitation.Despite the clarity of Americana's signal, Massasoit still turned and, eyes never leaving the glistening cunt being offered to him, had a brief conversation with Squanto."The Great Sachem wishes to know," Squanto said, afterwards, "whether this gift is for him alone, or for his people as well."The Pilgrim Elders looked at each other.Reverend Brewster shrugged. "As I said," he stated, "at a certain point one must ask, does God care about a few more?"Governor Bradford nodded. "Anyone and everyone can partake of our gift," he said, "as the Chief wishes.""Oh, Great Justice!" Miss Americana whimpered, her eyes blinking in horror. But, knowing she had no choice if she was not to change history, although they trembled, her mighty thighs remained spread wide, and her hands, though they shivered, remained planted flat to the table.Squanto and Massasoit shared another brief conversation. It concluded with what appeared to be a magnanimous gesture by Massasoit, towards Americana's waiting and naked cunt. Squanto nodded, and then stepped forward."The Great Sachem accepts your generous gift," he said. Reaching up, he began to take off his shirt. "As he knows your laws would not permit you to do so yourselves, he wishes that I test her first, to make sure she is worthy of him. He will have her after me, and then the rest of the tribe."Miss Americana let out a tiny whimper of disbelief, as she heard this. But, strangely, the news seemed to have another effect on her cunt, where, between her muscular thighs, her naked slit suddenly seemed to drip with even more gooey juices than before.Unable to watch her fate coming, Americana turned her head away and instead looked down the table. This did little to lessen her humiliation, however, as she now just got to watch the entire Pilgrim community staring up at her, as she stood ready to secure their futures with the much-questioned purity of her gaping cunt.Standing behind her, Squanto took off his pants. This caused an immediate stir among the Pilgrim women."By the Lord," the woman who had called out Miss Americana said, her eyes going hypocritically wide.Another shook her head slowly. "I, I had, suspected," she said. "But I did not realize the true extent of the native's, gifts."Fortunately for the Pilgrim women, their men were too busy staring at the naked Queen of Justice to see where their wives' attention was directed. Meanwhile Miss Americana, her face down and looking at the table, was the only one who could not see what was coming up behind her. So she didn't have any clue what she was in for, until Squanto's dark hands appeared upon her pale curvy hips, and he swung himself up into position."Oh!" Miss Americana gasped, her blue eyes spreading wide, as she realized that, with both of his hands accounted for on her flesh, what she was feeling nuzzling up against her drooling cunt could not be a fist or arm, as she in the initial moment of contact suspected. She gasped deeply, her eyes spreading even wider, as his tip started to part her. She shook her head."Oh, oh my God," she said, as her cunt lips spread wider and wider around the incoming bronze cock-head, until they quivered to either side of the crest of his uncircumcised cock. "I, I didn't know," she whimpered, "that, that Squanto was so hung!" Her voice rose up to a squeal, as he thrust deep inside her."Is," the native interpreter calmly corrected the English-woman on her grammar. Then, taking a tight grip on her hips, he began to slam his massive cock vigorously back and forth inside her drooling slit.Miss Americana shook and squealed, as he nailed her. All around her, the Pilgrim men and women stared in awe. But Americana was not the only one to be affected by the experience for long."Oh, yes!" Squanto announced. Sliding his eager dark hands around from her hips he cupped her enormous breasts from below, and squeezed them, as he continued to nail her gaping cunt with bountiful vigor and abandon. "This, strange woman, is indeed, worthy of the Sachem!" he said. He rolled his head and gasped in awe. "My goodness! She is so tight!" he marveled, squeezing her enormous hooters and stroking their erect tips with his fingers. "And yet, there is an ocean inside her hips!""Very good!" Massasoit announced, revealing that, though he naturally depended on his interpreter for complex and important negotiations, he had had the foresight to learn some rudimentary English himself. He removed his pants and then his loincloth, which caused another stir among the Pilgrim women, as it was revealed that Squanto was not a unique outlier among his people.To be continued in part 2, By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. "In her, shoot fast," Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, "I want in her, my first use to take.""First use?!" Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto's big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn't have long to contemplate that."That is no problem at all, my lord!" Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb."Oh, Great Justice!" Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping."I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem," he said, gesturing towards Americana's cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs."Very good!" Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. "This," he said, squeezing Americana's bulging silky cheeks, "is a very rich gift, indeed!"With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her."Oh, my God," Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief's enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt."That's a sin!" one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives' largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit's great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem's honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana's flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men's faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana's body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana's muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty."Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?" one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana's enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. "I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing."The Pilgrim shook his head. "Nah," he said. "God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it's pretty clear what he made this one for."Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana's giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine's hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips."Well, that and this!" he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow's produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana's belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them."I say Reverend," the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana's continuing show. "Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.""True," the Reverend said. "But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?""There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched," the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. "I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?""Hmm," the Reverend Brewster said. "Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once." As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims' faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. "However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement," he added, "it is not just God who must be consulted."As it happened, the Reverend's own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend's sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each."What say you, Mary?" the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything."Hmm," Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband."I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release," she said. "So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!" She lifted up a finger and glared."Of course," Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana's moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded."There is one other condition," she added, hastily. "We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated." She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. "So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?"The two junior Pilgrims' eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing."Good heavens!" the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips."Is, is that permitted under Heaven's law, Reverend?" the short one asked."Uh," Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. "To be honest," he said, "I'm not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,""Then there should be no problem, should there?" Mary asked testily."I guess not," he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God's forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife's, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives 'peace offering' could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line."Open wide, and say your grace," he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically."Oh, yes!" Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. "T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!" he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster's pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana's marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's' hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation' that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot's open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn't have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives' outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done."Oh!" one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl's' practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary's labia, and felt the Reverend's hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle."Just so you know, Miss Americana," she heard Flag Girl's voice say, excitedly, "the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President." The events she was getting to witness through the professor's Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. "Isn't that cool?!" Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. "Wonderful," she managed to moan into Mary Brewster's cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl's tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims' 'peace offering'.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn't seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it."Shall we clean this mess up?" Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. "No need," he said."It can wait until morning," Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. "Everyone is very tired and content.""Especially her!" Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh."Should we post a guard on her then?" Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head."The Sachem's warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods," Squanto advised. "No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?""Good point," Governor Bradford admitted. "So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?"At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. "Now this, is a good idea!" he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor's house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns squished against the rough-hewn planks of the table, and huge tits rising and falling in the cool Massachusetts night, she could make no other move.At last, everyone nearby had either left or fallen asleep, and the coast was clear. Miss Americana's body began to glow. Her bikini, having been passed around and marveled at by various members of the party before being finally added as decorative elements to the top of the main centerpiece, glowed as well. Her chain, which had been secured to one leg of the table some time ago, did not.With a flash she was gone, leaving the Plymouth colony as mysteriously as she had entered it. The chain, disturbed by the wind of her passage, clanked to the ground. Pilgrims and natives alike would find it empty in the morning and assume that against all odds the 'harem girl' had managed to slip away in the night, and was probably therefore a witch after all. But, having already gotten very full use of her cunt, and since the blame for this could only rest primarily on his own sleepy sentries, Massasoit would not fault the Pilgrims for this and the treaty would not again be endangered. History, such as it was, for better or worse, was saved.Back in the current time, Flag Girl stood by, shivering nervously, as she watched the professor work the controls. A shining form slowly appeared upon the platform, a sprawled and shapely silhouette laid out spread-eagled atop it. Two smaller blobs appeared beside her, for her retrieved bra and panties.Then, with a last flash, the reverse time passage was complete. The machine hummed down, as Miss Americana and her discarded costume lay quivering upon the platform, once more in the flesh."Oh, thank the Goddess!" Flag Girl gasped, rushing forward in relief. Then, halfway to embracing her mistress, she suddenly gasped, skidded to a halt and froze. "Wha-what?" she gasped."Oh, yes," the Professor said. Looking down upon Americana from the control station beside the platform, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Yes, sometimes the time particles have, odd effects like this."Upon the platform Miss Americana groaned. Having recovered some of her strength and energy during the passage back, she lifted her head. She gasped, her curvy naked body rolling back and forth upon the platform, as rivers of semen continued to drip off it. Then, lifting one hand up to hold her head, she raised the other to comfortingly caress her aching belly, and then suddenly let out a loud yelp."Wha- what the?!" Miss Americana gasped.Lifting up her trembling gloved hand, she raised her head and stared down between her breasts in shock. There, rising up before her, which her fingers had unexpectedly encountered, her once-flat belly had already started to swell upwards considerably. She was six or seven months' pregnant, at least."Oh, Gah-Great Justice!" Miss Americana groaned, staring at her own enormous belly in disbelief."What, what happened?" Flag Girl squealed, hands over her lips."As I said," the professor said. Picking up a hand-held bio-scanner, he leaned over and began using it to examine Miss Americana's swollen belly. "The time-stream can have, odd effects sometimes. The exterior didn't age a day, if the still-runny and viable state of all this semen is any indication. The inside, well," He shrugged.Miss Americana shook her head, eyes glued to her impregnated body. As the Professor had stated, despite the advanced state of her pregnancy, streamers of seemingly fresh and gooey cum continued to flow out of her ravaged cunt lips, down onto the platform, spreading around her buxom buns."There's, there's no way my sonic device can deal with this," she whimpered. "Could you get me to Doctor Lingam fast? Maybe, maybe she could still fix this for me.""Maybe," the Professor admitted, still studying his scanner. "The time particles may make that more complicated than expected. But regardless of one's normal feelings on that practice, I think it might be considered a particularly sticky matter in this case, regardless.""What, what are you talking about, Professor?" the Queen of Justice gasped.He pointed at his scanner readout. "The other half of the genetic material in your womb matches no known human bloodline," he said. "Do you know what that means?"Miss Americana shook her head, glaring up at him furiously. "No of course not!" she said. "But since it's god-damn inside of me, just tell me!""The Native American known as Squanto," the Professor said, still looking over his readings with clinical detachment, "he was the one who had the first crack at your cunt, correct? And he was among the longest of those who fucked you, based on what we saw on the viewer, so if anyone's sperm reached your egg first, it was probably his. Correct?""Yes!" Americana said. She squirmed in particular, at the mention of the native interpreter's long cock, as it promptly dragged up deep memories of what it had felt like inside her. "Get to the point!" she said, naming an activity that none of the natives who had fucked her, least of all Squanto himself, had had any trouble at all doing within her."Well," he said. "In history as we previously understood it, the Pawtuxet tribe was entirely wiped out by disease save for one survivor. That would be Squanto. History tells us that he succumbed to European diseases himself shortly after the First Thanksgiving, and fathered no known children, thus making him the very last of his people."Turning it around, he showed her the readings on his bio-scanner."Until now," he said.Americana stared at the readings on the scanner in shock. In addition to all the genetic readings it also revealed to her that Squanto had gotten a jump on repopulating his tribe in another way as well. It wasn't one baby inside her, it was twins. Both boys. She turned and looked at her impregnated belly. Then she looked back at the scanner."Oh, oh shit," she whispered softly.Flag Girl suddenly started bouncing eagerly on her heels, having finally processed with her limited teen brainpower what the adults were talking about. "Oh, yay, Miss A!" she squealed. "You're going to be, like, the step-mother of an entire nation! Isn't that so cool?"Her face shivering in horror and wonder behind her star-spangled patriotic mask, Miss Americana shivered. "Oh, oh my fucking God!" she moaned.Overcome by the implications, she slumped back down onto the platform, her buxom naked body once more too overcome by what was happening to it to rise at all. Quivering against the floor, she shook and gasped in disbelief, as the seed of a vanished people suddenly re-birthed after a four-hundred-year absence continued to germinate eagerly within her patriotic womb.Back in the past, Governor Bradford had passed out in his chair. On a paper beside him, he had already taken some hasty notes about how the day's events could be carefully edited in the colonial records to preserve decorum. Massasoit and Tisquantum, still holding glasses of the governor's best brandy, had wandered to the outskirts of the colony. The escape of the busty peace offering had not yet been discovered. Sitting down on the side on a large rock by the shore they observed the light of the moon on the harbor in which the strangers had first arrived.'Does it ever disturb you,' Massasoit suddenly asked, in the Wampanoag tongue, 'to have to teach these people to live atop the graves of your tribe?''Sometimes' Tisquantum admitted. 'But I must do what is best for my people, and I trust you see that better than me.''I hope that I do,' Massasoit said. 'Being Sachem is not restful. I do sympathize though. The ghosts that dwell here cannot give you much rest either.'Looking out over the shining harbor Tisquantum thought back to playing upon this very rock as a child. He thought about the teenage girl he had courted, upon the hill above, who, as it turned out, he had never gotten to make his wife. He knew what remained of her was under a tree not far away, and visited it occasionally when no one else was watching.But, because it was so recent, he could also not help but remember the peace offering's cunt squeezing tight around his cock as he unleashed his seed into her.'It's alright,' he said. 'They just got a very tiny bit quieter for some reason.'Beside him, Massasoit let out a tiny bark of laughter. 'Yes, I'll bet!' he said.Then, raising their glasses of brandy, they chuckled as they each enjoyed a sip while looking out over the shining sea to the distant horizon.By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.Historical Characters:Massasoit, Sachem (essentially chief-over-other-chiefs) of the Wampanoag Confederacy, which dominated much of the land around the Plymouth settlement. Historically he signed a peace treaty with Governor John Carver in early 1621 that would last for nearly a century. He was also the one who sent Squanto to act as their interpreter and advisor. The land the colony was built on had been occupied by one of the tribes of his confederacy which, save for Squanto, had been entirely wiped out by disease. Without his help, including repeated deliveries of food, it is very unlikely the Plymouth colony would have survived.Tisquantum aka Squanto, last surviving member of the Pawtuxet tribe, whose vacant village the Pilgrims essentially settled on top of. The entire rest of the tribe was wiped out by a sudden outbreak of disease a few years before their arrival, most likely smallpox; Squanto escaped this fate by being kidnapped by an English explorer and sold into slavery in Spain, during which time he learned English. Eventually returning to his native land he was sent by Massasoit as the ambassador to his new white allies, and according to legend assisted the Pilgrims greatly in learning to survive in their new home. In actual history he would die of disease in 1622, a year after the so-called 'First Thanksgiving', leaving no known issue.William Brewster, though in reality the English Dissenters were a relatively egalitarian lot that rejected formal religious authorities, William Brewster is generally recognized as the chief spiritual leader and authority of the early colony. I just titled him 'Reverend' for simplicity's sake. Like many of the Pilgrims William Brewster has tens of thousands of known latter-day or modern-day descendants, but his list is particularly impressive including John Foster Dulles, Richard Gere, Katherine Hepburn, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Sarah Palin, Nelson Rockefeller, Supreme Court Justice David Souter, Commodore Matthew Perry (the dude who 'opened' Japan), Robert Noyce (the inventor of the integrated circuit), World War 2 Admiral William 'Bull' Halsey, and President Zachary Taylor.Mary Brewster, William Brewster's wife and mother of his children. I have no historical information that Mary Brewster had the slightest interest in receiving cunnilingus from other women; on the other hand I also don't have any hard information that she didn't.Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster: no, really, these are the actual names William Brewster gave his sons. Also named his daughter 'Fear'.William Bradford, second Governor of the Plymouth Colony, after the first governor John Carver died of disease early in 1621. His journal, titled 'Of Plymouth Plantation,' is one of the primary historical sources on the early colony, including the First Thanksgiving. His descendants include Alec Baldwin, Clint Eastwood, Christopher Reeve, and Noah Webster, of 'Webster's Dictionary' fame. Unfortunately, William Bradford named his sons boring things like 'William Jr.' and 'Joseph' instead of the bat-shit awesome stuff William Brewster came up with, so I didn't give them any cameos.Myles Standish, hired by the Merchant Adventurers (non-religious monetary backers of the Mayflower expedition who were in it for potential trading profits) as a military advisor; Myles was not a Puritan, but was instead a career military man and veteran of warfare against the Spanish in Holland. However, he still was one of the signatories to the Mayflower Compact.

 A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit's favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb. Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving"Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter," Miss Americana said. "She's flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I'll help her write there's no way she can fail."Professor Whirter shook his head. "Miss Americana!" he gasped. "The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!"The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A's on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana's sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor's newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana's expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. "Professor," she growled, "my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade's money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?"The Professor's blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. "Alright, alright," he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine."Ready?" Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum."Ready!" Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it."Perfect," she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket."Told you I heard a noise," the tall Pilgrim said to the short one."Heaven defend us!" the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them."Hello," Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. "Stay back, witch!" he said.His companion seemed less sure. "Are you sure she's a witch?" he asked."She's a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?" the short one asked."Hmm," the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. "Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,"He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. "Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!" he said. "No speaking hexes, either!"Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims' long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. "You boys are making a big mistake," she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. "Fortunately I can correct it,"But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker."Miss Americana!" Professor Whirter's voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. "You cannot harm anyone in this period!" he said. "Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!""Oh," Miss Americana gulped. "Right,"She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less."On second thought," she said, "I surrender."She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana's hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain."There," he said, backing up. "The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.""If you say so," Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim's head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. "Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out."Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. "Let's take her to the Elders," he said. "Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her."Miss Americana rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, you oafs!" she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day's large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. 'Who would wear a bikini during this time period?' she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea."We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest," the tall pilgrim said."We think she's a witch," the short one said. "Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?"Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly."I am not a witch!" she boldly declared. "I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan's palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!"'That ought to fool these simpletons,' she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony's current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her."Hmm," Captain Standish said. "If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so," he said."Prove it? And how should I do that?" Miss Americana asked, indignantly."If you were a harem girl," Captain Standish said, "then you know how to dance like one. So, show us." He turned his head to the man next to him. "Do you permit this Reverend?" he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana's flesh. But then he nodded. "If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it," he said.Americana gasped. "H-how can you ask me that?" she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. "The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission," he told her. "So if your story is true then prove it." He nodded up to the large table. "You can do it on there, if you would be so kind."Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily."Very well," she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. "But I cannot dance in these!" she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana's manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. "Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!" she said.And with that, she began to dance."H-holy shit," one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe."That's blasphemy," a second beside him murmured. "Also, god fucking damn," he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl."Verily, my friends," he said, "I was so distracted by the witch's performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize' stuff into the fire and, look what happened!"His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster's ear."Did the Lord really condone this, William?" he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. "After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale," he said. "Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up." Taking some of Captain Standish's popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder."Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!" he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. "The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!"At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana's wiggling and grinding bubble-ass."What?!" Governor Bradford gasped. "But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we'll starve! Why have they turned back?!"The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana."When the Sachem's party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one," he said. "The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,"At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock."My ass is not fat!" she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. "Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn't lead to fat!" she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. "What's a stair-masterer?" he asked. "Some sort of Turkish siege engine?"Myles shrugged, puzzled."Never mind that!" Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community's attention off Miss Americana. "This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!""Hmm," said Captain Standish. "What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.""But the whole point is we have no food!" Reverend Brewster pointed out. "What sort of peace offering could we give?""We could give them our guns, or the cannon," Governor Bradford said."And surrender our only military leverage?" Captain Standish scoffed. "I would sooner dump them in the sea!""The Indians are yet heathens," Reverend Brewster pointed out. "They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering' might they be interested in?"For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped."No," she whispered. "No, no, No!" Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. "How, how can you even consider that?!" she hissed. "Aren't you Puritans?! A Godly people?!"Reverend Brewster shook his head."We are," he affirmed. "But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!"Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana's body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them."I know well the meaning of the scarlet A's," Reverend Brewster said. "The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?"Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones upon her gloves, and finally remembered her Hawthorne.'Great Justice! Why didn't I pay more attention in high school lit class?' she thought, marking the first time in all of recorded history that this has occurred.But then she looked back up, and saw that all the Pilgrims were nodding in agreement with their spiritual leader. She swallowed.Suddenly, a sound came over her microphone. "You made the choice to go back into the past," Professor Whirter chided her. He could not quite keep the relish out of his voice, to see the arrogant heroine hoisted upon her own scantily-clad petard. "It is your duty now to make sure history goes forward, no matter what that takes!" He cut the feed again.Americana gasped. But then, squirming before the staring Pilgrims, she bowed her head and then slowly nodded."Very well," she said. "If it is what must happen, then so be it."At this, one of the few surviving female Pilgrims could remain properly silent no longer."Hey!" she snapped, from where she stood in the door of her roughly-built house, an apron over her simple dress and her hands soiled with flour from her long labors to prepare the day's feast. "You might fool them," she said, nodding at the men, "but you can't fool me. Given how you just danced in front of my husband, and that after all this time you still wear that harem attire with relish, don't pretend you don't want every cock you can take you thrice-damned Jezebel!"At this, Miss Americana gasped in shock. But she did not get a chance to respond, for around her the men had already launched into preparing their response, it had to be sent swiftly, before the Native column could get too far. With haste, a runner was sent, vanishing into the woods.In due time, a large party of Native Americans emerged from the forest and began to approach. In the meantime, Miss Americana had gotten down off the table, and now stood under guard nearby, beside and in front of the table of the elders. Miss Americana gulped in trepidation when she saw their numbers, there may have been forty or so adult male Pilgrims left, but there were more than twice that number of Indians approaching, all of them men.At the head of the column, there came a grand and muscular figure with burnished bronze skin, a large head-dress on his head. This, she knew from history and from the whispered comments of the Pilgrim elders just beside her, was Massasoit, the Great Sachem of the Wampanoag people. It was only the treaty he had signed with the now-late Governor Carver, and its attendant protection from raiding and repeated deliveries of food, that had enabled the meager settlement around her to survive at all. At his side walked another Native man in a mixture of native and Pilgrim garb, from more comments among the elders Americana discerned that this was Tisquantum, better known to most white schoolchildren as 'Squanto', the Pilgrims' tutor and interpreter. Although he normally lived amongst the Pilgrims, he had gone off to help escort Massasoit in for this very important meeting.They were also, she could not help but notice, much more buff and handsome than she expected. As she gazed upon them, a strange tingle ran up and down between her legs, accompanied by a sudden and mysterious abundance of fluids.Behind Massasoit came a column of nearly a hundred Wampanoag warriors; a few came armed, but most were instead carrying great baskets filled with food. Turkeys; fish; pumpkins; maize; squash and cranberries, all in enormous quantity. Five recently felled deer were also carried, each on the shoulders to two strapping Wampanoag hunters. The Pilgrims' own supplies were very meager, more so than they would even admit to in the historical record, and Miss Americana realized that without the Indians' food the First Thanksgiving Feast would instead be replaced by a Great Starvation, and the probable extinction of the Plymouth colony.However, although they had come back, the Native American party remained suspicious. The majority of the column stopped just short of the entrance to the colony, and only Massasoit, Squanto, and a small honor guard of strapping warriors came forward to meet the Elders at their table."Greetings, Squanto," Governor Bradford said, standing. "And holy Greetings to the great king Massasoit, may the blessings of our God be upon him.""Greetings, Governor," Squanto replied. He bowed slightly, and gestured to his muscular boss beside him. "But the Great Sachem's mind is not rested. This one," he said, nodding towards Miss Americana, "and her, impressive, proportions, caused him some distress, that perhaps he had been lied to. I understand this is not the case?"Behind him, one by one, each of the native warriors was leaning out and gaping at Miss Americana in awe. In all their days and travels, they had never seen breasts nearly as enormous as hers, nor a figure quite so bountifully and visibly fertile."Please express our deep apologies for the misunderstanding to the Sachem," Governor Bradford replied. "This woman," he said, gesturing toward where Miss Americana stood chained, "is not a member of our community. We desired to give him a gift worthy of his own generosity, but as you know we have no food to spare. So we," He glanced at the two Pilgrims who had captured Americana, and still held her leash. "Obtained her," he decided to say at last, "so that we could have an appropriate present to reward him for his magnanimity."Squanto turned to Massasoit, and they shared a brief conversation in the Wampanoag tongue, which Americana could not understand, and, she gathered from their nervous squirming, the Pilgrims mostly could not either. Then Squanto turned back to them."I see," he said. He eyed Miss Americana up and down. "The Great Sachem wants to know, exactly what is the nature of this, gift?"Sitting near and behind her, Reverend Brewster looked up at Miss Americana's staggering curves."You reply to that one, Scarlet-Lettered One," he told her. "From what we have seen of your instincts with that body, you should not need words to do so,"Miss Americana blushed deeply. Then, she nodded. Before Massasoit, Squanto, the Elders, the Wampanoag warriors, and the entire Pilgrim community, she walked over to stand before the end of the Pilgrims' great main table. This faced back, directly towards where Massasoit stood, some few meters behind her. Reaching up, blush deepening on her cheeks, she put her hand between her breasts, and with a flick undid her golden star-shaped bra catch. Her huge bra, nevertheless under vast strain to contain her super-human rack, exploded apart, allowing her gigantic breasts to spill forth to jostle and sway before everyone."God, damn!" she heard Myles Standish say. Reverend Brewster, sitting right beside him, was himself too occupied by the dropping of his own jaw to call him on his blasphemy. Even the Pilgrim women appeared breathless at the sight of Americana's giant udders. A great hew and shout rose among the Wampanoag column, pointing and gaping in disbelief. Even Massasoit himself, who to this point had stood tall and still like a bronzed god among lesser men, seemed to be affected. Though he said nothing, as Miss Americana's huge breasts shook before him his eyebrows went up, and Miss Americana herself swallowed, as she noticed what seemed to be the stirrings of something disturbingly large in the front of his deerskin trousers.But she could not stop. Shrugging out of her bra, she turned and laid it on the table before her. Then, reaching back, she slipped her gloved hands into the hips of her panties. She squirmed for a few seconds, as she felt the eyes of every single member of both nations staring at her squirming ass. Then slowly, bending low, she guided her panties up and over her ass, and down her thighs. She slipped one boot out of them, then the other, and left them in a tiny colorful heap between her feet.Then, her lips trembling and her cheeks bright pink under her mask, Miss Americana made the one signal a woman could make that, regardless of language and culture, no man could mis-understand. Bending over, she put both hands on the table. Her voluptuous ass lifted up high and wiggling behind her, she slowly slid her boots wider and wider apart, until her long and mighty legs were spread at a nearly forty-five degree angle to either side. Then lifting her head, she looked back over her shoulder, her blue eyes blinking moistly. Her dripping cunt was pointed straight back at Massasoit, gaping slightly to show her tender inner lips between the thicker outer ones, in clear and open invitation.Despite the clarity of Americana's signal, Massasoit still turned and, eyes never leaving the glistening cunt being offered to him, had a brief conversation with Squanto."The Great Sachem wishes to know," Squanto said, afterwards, "whether this gift is for him alone, or for his people as well."The Pilgrim Elders looked at each other.Reverend Brewster shrugged. "As I said," he stated, "at a certain point one must ask, does God care about a few more?"Governor Bradford nodded. "Anyone and everyone can partake of our gift," he said, "as the Chief wishes.""Oh, Great Justice!" Miss Americana whimpered, her eyes blinking in horror. But, knowing she had no choice if she was not to change history, although they trembled, her mighty thighs remained spread wide, and her hands, though they shivered, remained planted flat to the table.Squanto and Massasoit shared another brief conversation. It concluded with what appeared to be a magnanimous gesture by Massasoit, towards Americana's waiting and naked cunt. Squanto nodded, and then stepped forward."The Great Sachem accepts your generous gift," he said. Reaching up, he began to take off his shirt. "As he knows your laws would not permit you to do so yourselves, he wishes that I test her first, to make sure she is worthy of him. He will have her after me, and then the rest of the tribe."Miss Americana let out a tiny whimper of disbelief, as she heard this. But, strangely, the news seemed to have another effect on her cunt, where, between her muscular thighs, her naked slit suddenly seemed to drip with even more gooey juices than before.Unable to watch her fate coming, Americana turned her head away and instead looked down the table. This did little to lessen her humiliation, however, as she now just got to watch the entire Pilgrim community staring up at her, as she stood ready to secure their futures with the much-questioned purity of her gaping cunt.Standing behind her, Squanto took off his pants. This caused an immediate stir among the Pilgrim women."By the Lord," the woman who had called out Miss Americana said, her eyes going hypocritically wide.Another shook her head slowly. "I, I had, suspected," she said. "But I did not realize the true extent of the native's, gifts."Fortunately for the Pilgrim women, their men were too busy staring at the naked Queen of Justice to see where their wives' attention was directed. Meanwhile Miss Americana, her face down and looking at the table, was the only one who could not see what was coming up behind her. So she didn't have any clue what she was in for, until Squanto's dark hands appeared upon her pale curvy hips, and he swung himself up into position."Oh!" Miss Americana gasped, her blue eyes spreading wide, as she realized that, with both of his hands accounted for on her flesh, what she was feeling nuzzling up against her drooling cunt could not be a fist or arm, as she in the initial moment of contact suspected. She gasped deeply, her eyes spreading even wider, as his tip started to part her. She shook her head."Oh, oh my God," she said, as her cunt lips spread wider and wider around the incoming bronze cock-head, until they quivered to either side of the crest of his uncircumcised cock. "I, I didn't know," she whimpered, "that, that Squanto was so hung!" Her voice rose up to a squeal, as he thrust deep inside her."Is," the native interpreter calmly corrected the English-woman on her grammar. Then, taking a tight grip on her hips, he began to slam his massive cock vigorously back and forth inside her drooling slit.Miss Americana shook and squealed, as he nailed her. All around her, the Pilgrim men and women stared in awe. But Americana was not the only one to be affected by the experience for long."Oh, yes!" Squanto announced. Sliding his eager dark hands around from her hips he cupped her enormous breasts from below, and squeezed them, as he continued to nail her gaping cunt with bountiful vigor and abandon. "This, strange woman, is indeed, worthy of the Sachem!" he said. He rolled his head and gasped in awe. "My goodness! She is so tight!" he marveled, squeezing her enormous hooters and stroking their erect tips with his fingers. "And yet, there is an ocean inside her hips!""Very good!" Massasoit announced, revealing that, though he naturally depended on his interpreter for complex and important negotiations, he had had the foresight to learn some rudimentary English himself. He removed his pants and then his loincloth, which caused another stir among the Pilgrim women, as it was revealed that Squanto was not a unique outlier among his people.To be continued in part 2, By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. "In her, shoot fast," Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, "I want in her, my first use to take.""First use?!" Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto's big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn't have long to contemplate that."That is no problem at all, my lord!" Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb."Oh, Great Justice!" Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping."I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem," he said, gesturing towards Americana's cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs."Very good!" Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. "This," he said, squeezing Americana's bulging silky cheeks, "is a very rich gift, indeed!"With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her."Oh, my God," Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief's enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt."That's a sin!" one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives' largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit's great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem's honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana's flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men's faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana's body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana's muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty."Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?" one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana's enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. "I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing."The Pilgrim shook his head. "Nah," he said. "God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it's pretty clear what he made this one for."Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana's giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine's hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips."Well, that and this!" he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow's produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana's belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them."I say Reverend," the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana's continuing show. "Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.""True," the Reverend said. "But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?""There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched," the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. "I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?""Hmm," the Reverend Brewster said. "Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once." As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims' faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. "However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement," he added, "it is not just God who must be consulted."As it happened, the Reverend's own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend's sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each."What say you, Mary?" the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything."Hmm," Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband."I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release," she said. "So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!" She lifted up a finger and glared."Of course," Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana's moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded."There is one other condition," she added, hastily. "We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated." She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. "So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?"The two junior Pilgrims' eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing."Good heavens!" the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips."Is, is that permitted under Heaven's law, Reverend?" the short one asked."Uh," Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. "To be honest," he said, "I'm not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,""Then there should be no problem, should there?" Mary asked testily."I guess not," he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God's forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife's, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives 'peace offering' could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line."Open wide, and say your grace," he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically."Oh, yes!" Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. "T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!" he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster's pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana's marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's' hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation' that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot's open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn't have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives' outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done."Oh!" one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl's' practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary's labia, and felt the Reverend's hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle."Just so you know, Miss Americana," she heard Flag Girl's voice say, excitedly, "the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President." The events she was getting to witness through the professor's Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. "Isn't that cool?!" Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. "Wonderful," she managed to moan into Mary Brewster's cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl's tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims' 'peace offering'.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn't seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it."Shall we clean this mess up?" Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. "No need," he said."It can wait until morning," Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. "Everyone is very tired and content.""Especially her!" Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh."Should we post a guard on her then?" Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head."The Sachem's warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods," Squanto advised. "No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?""Good point," Governor Bradford admitted. "So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?"At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. "Now this, is a good idea!" he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor's house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns squished against the rough-hewn planks of the table, and huge tits rising and falling in the cool Massachusetts night, she could make no other move.At last, everyone nearby had either left or fallen asleep, and the coast was clear. Miss Americana's body began to glow. Her bikini, having been passed around and marveled at by various members of the party before being finally added as decorative elements to the top of the main centerpiece, glowed as well. Her chain, which had been secured to one leg of the table some time ago, did not.With a flash she was gone, leaving the Plymouth colony as mysteriously as she had entered it. The chain, disturbed by the wind of her passage, clanked to the ground. Pilgrims and natives alike would find it empty in the morning and assume that against all odds the 'harem girl' had managed to slip away in the night, and was probably therefore a witch after all. But, having already gotten very full use of her cunt, and since the blame for this could only rest primarily on his own sleepy sentries, Massasoit would not fault the Pilgrims for this and the treaty would not again be endangered. History, such as it was, for better or worse, was saved.Back in the current time, Flag Girl stood by, shivering nervously, as she watched the professor work the controls. A shining form slowly appeared upon the platform, a sprawled and shapely silhouette laid out spread-eagled atop it. Two smaller blobs appeared beside her, for her retrieved bra and panties.Then, with a last flash, the reverse time passage was complete. The machine hummed down, as Miss Americana and her discarded costume lay quivering upon the platform, once more in the flesh."Oh, thank the Goddess!" Flag Girl gasped, rushing forward in relief. Then, halfway to embracing her mistress, she suddenly gasped, skidded to a halt and froze. "Wha-what?" she gasped."Oh, yes," the Professor said. Looking down upon Americana from the control station beside the platform, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Yes, sometimes the time particles have, odd effects like this."Upon the platform Miss Americana groaned. Having recovered some of her strength and energy during the passage back, she lifted her head. She gasped, her curvy naked body rolling back and forth upon the platform, as rivers of semen continued to drip off it. Then, lifting one hand up to hold her head, she raised the other to comfortingly caress her aching belly, and then suddenly let out a loud yelp."Wha- what the?!" Miss Americana gasped.Lifting up her trembling gloved hand, she raised her head and stared down between her breasts in shock. There, rising up before her, which her fingers had unexpectedly encountered, her once-flat belly had already started to swell upwards considerably. She was six or seven months' pregnant, at least."Oh, Gah-Great Justice!" Miss Americana groaned, staring at her own enormous belly in disbelief."What, what happened?" Flag Girl squealed, hands over her lips."As I said," the professor said. Picking up a hand-held bio-scanner, he leaned over and began using it to examine Miss Americana's swollen belly. "The time-stream can have, odd effects sometimes. The exterior didn't age a day, if the still-runny and viable state of all this semen is any indication. The inside, well," He shrugged.Miss Americana shook her head, eyes glued to her impregnated body. As the Professor had stated, despite the advanced state of her pregnancy, streamers of seemingly fresh and gooey cum continued to flow out of her ravaged cunt lips, down onto the platform, spreading around her buxom buns."There's, there's no way my sonic device can deal with this," she whimpered. "Could you get me to Doctor Lingam fast? Maybe, maybe she could still fix this for me.""Maybe," the Professor admitted, still studying his scanner. "The time particles may make that more complicated than expected. But regardless of one's normal feelings on that practice, I think it might be considered a particularly sticky matter in this case, regardless.""What, what are you talking about, Professor?" the Queen of Justice gasped.He pointed at his scanner readout. "The other half of the genetic material in your womb matches no known human bloodline," he said. "Do you know what that means?"Miss Americana shook her head, glaring up at him furiously. "No of course not!" she said. "But since it's god-damn inside of me, just tell me!""The Native American known as Squanto," the Professor said, still looking over his readings with clinical detachment, "he was the one who had the first crack at your cunt, correct? And he was among the longest of those who fucked you, based on what we saw on the viewer, so if anyone's sperm reached your egg first, it was probably his. Correct?""Yes!" Americana said. She squirmed in particular, at the mention of the native interpreter's long cock, as it promptly dragged up deep memories of what it had felt like inside her. "Get to the point!" she said, naming an activity that none of the natives who had fucked her, least of all Squanto himself, had had any trouble at all doing within her."Well," he said. "In history as we previously understood it, the Pawtuxet tribe was entirely wiped out by disease save for one survivor. That would be Squanto. History tells us that he succumbed to European diseases himself shortly after the First Thanksgiving, and fathered no known children, thus making him the very last of his people."Turning it around, he showed her the readings on his bio-scanner."Until now," he said.Americana stared at the readings on the scanner in shock. In addition to all the genetic readings it also revealed to her that Squanto had gotten a jump on repopulating his tribe in another way as well. It wasn't one baby inside her, it was twins. Both boys. She turned and looked at her impregnated belly. Then she looked back at the scanner."Oh, oh shit," she whispered softly.Flag Girl suddenly started bouncing eagerly on her heels, having finally processed with her limited teen brainpower what the adults were talking about. "Oh, yay, Miss A!" she squealed. "You're going to be, like, the step-mother of an entire nation! Isn't that so cool?"Her face shivering in horror and wonder behind her star-spangled patriotic mask, Miss Americana shivered. "Oh, oh my fucking God!" she moaned.Overcome by the implications, she slumped back down onto the platform, her buxom naked body once more too overcome by what was happening to it to rise at all. Quivering against the floor, she shook and gasped in disbelief, as the seed of a vanished people suddenly re-birthed after a four-hundred-year absence continued to germinate eagerly within her patriotic womb.Back in the past, Governor Bradford had passed out in his chair. On a paper beside him, he had already taken some hasty notes about how the day's events could be carefully edited in the colonial records to preserve decorum. Massasoit and Tisquantum, still holding glasses of the governor's best brandy, had wandered to the outskirts of the colony. The escape of the busty peace offering had not yet been discovered. Sitting down on the side on a large rock by the shore they observed the light of the moon on the harbor in which the strangers had first arrived.'Does it ever disturb you,' Massasoit suddenly asked, in the Wampanoag tongue, 'to have to teach these people to live atop the graves of your tribe?''Sometimes' Tisquantum admitted. 'But I must do what is best for my people, and I trust you see that better than me.''I hope that I do,' Massasoit said. 'Being Sachem is not restful. I do sympathize though. The ghosts that dwell here cannot give you much rest either.'Looking out over the shining harbor Tisquantum thought back to playing upon this very rock as a child. He thought about the teenage girl he had courted, upon the hill above, who, as it turned out, he had never gotten to make his wife. He knew what remained of her was under a tree not far away, and visited it occasionally when no one else was watching.But, because it was so recent, he could also not help but remember the peace offering's cunt squeezing tight around his cock as he unleashed his seed into her.'It's alright,' he said. 'They just got a very tiny bit quieter for some reason.'Beside him, Massasoit let out a tiny bark of laughter. 'Yes, I'll bet!' he said.Then, raising their glasses of brandy, they chuckled as they each enjoyed a sip while looking out over the shining sea to the distant horizon.By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.Historical Characters:Massasoit, Sachem (essentially chief-over-other-chiefs) of the Wampanoag Confederacy, which dominated much of the land around the Plymouth settlement. Historically he signed a peace treaty with Governor John Carver in early 1621 that would last for nearly a century. He was also the one who sent Squanto to act as their interpreter and advisor. The land the colony was built on had been occupied by one of the tribes of his confederacy which, save for Squanto, had been entirely wiped out by disease. Without his help, including repeated deliveries of food, it is very unlikely the Plymouth colony would have survived.Tisquantum aka Squanto, last surviving member of the Pawtuxet tribe, whose vacant village the Pilgrims essentially settled on top of. The entire rest of the tribe was wiped out by a sudden outbreak of disease a few years before their arrival, most likely smallpox; Squanto escaped this fate by being kidnapped by an English explorer and sold into slavery in Spain, during which time he learned English. Eventually returning to his native land he was sent by Massasoit as the ambassador to his new white allies, and according to legend assisted the Pilgrims greatly in learning to survive in their new home. In actual history he would die of disease in 1622, a year after the so-called 'First Thanksgiving', leaving no known issue.William Brewster, though in reality the English Dissenters were a relatively egalitarian lot that rejected formal religious authorities, William Brewster is generally recognized as the chief spiritual leader and authority of the early colony. I just titled him 'Reverend' for simplicity's sake. Like many of the Pilgrims William Brewster has tens of thousands of known latter-day or modern-day descendants, but his list is particularly impressive including John Foster Dulles, Richard Gere, Katherine Hepburn, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Sarah Palin, Nelson Rockefeller, Supreme Court Justice David Souter, Commodore Matthew Perry (the dude who 'opened' Japan), Robert Noyce (the inventor of the integrated circuit), World War 2 Admiral William 'Bull' Halsey, and President Zachary Taylor.Mary Brewster, William Brewster's wife and mother of his children. I have no historical information that Mary Brewster had the slightest interest in receiving cunnilingus from other women; on the other hand I also don't have any hard information that she didn't.Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster: no, really, these are the actual names William Brewster gave his sons. Also named his daughter 'Fear'.William Bradford, second Governor of the Plymouth Colony, after the first governor John Carver died of disease early in 1621. His journal, titled 'Of Plymouth Plantation,' is one of the primary historical sources on the early colony, including the First Thanksgiving. His descendants include Alec Baldwin, Clint Eastwood, Christopher Reeve, and Noah Webster, of 'Webster's Dictionary' fame. Unfortunately, William Bradford named his sons boring things like 'William Jr.' and 'Joseph' instead of the bat-shit awesome stuff William Brewster came up with, so I didn't give them any cameos.Myles Standish, hired by the Merchant Adventurers (non-religious monetary backers of the Mayflower expedition who were in it for potential trading profits) as a military advisor; Myles was not a Puritan, but was instead a career military man and veteran of warfare against the Spanish in Holland. However, he still was one of the signatories to the Mayflower Compact.

Throughout most of her long career, Taylor Swift was (in)famous for staying quiet politically. Some read this as apathy, some read it as calculating, and some went so far as to accuse her of being a secret alt-right icon. But in 2019, Taylor tore off the muzzle she had on herself and finally told the world her secret: she's a Democrat. Her political affiliation and progressive ideology became a cornerstone of her ‘Lover' era, and she has been open about her party alliance and voting habits ever since. However, it was a long time coming for her to emerge as ‘Miss Americana.' The question much of the world has for Taylor is…why? In this episode, Olivia & Dani talk about the inextricable relationship between American politics and country music, the delicate dance between fame and politics, and how Taylor found her political voice over the span of twenty years. Stick around until the end to see how you could be entered into a giveaway! But hurry, this one ends SOON! We will be taking next week off for Election Week in the USA. See you again in two weeks! *Our views do not necessarily represent our partners at Bleav. LINK TO 'ERAS TOUR HOT TAKES' SUBMISSION FORM: CLICK HERE! We are still fighting to get our Instagram back! Please help us by going to @taylearningpodcast_backup and following instructions on our first post. Instagram/TikTok: @TaylearningPodcast, @danielle_winchester, @olivia_kotarski Twitter (X): @Taylearning Email: taylearningpodcast@gmail.com Website: www.TaylearningPodcast.com   Spotify Playlist: Click here! Information on 9/11 and the War in Iraq: Article 1, Article 2, Book The Guardian article mentioned & heavily quoted: Click here! The “Miss Americana” article mentioned: Click here! *Explicit: Language, Sexual Content, Sexual & Domestic Violence, Politics in general

Send us a textThis week, Kait catches the guys up on Era's Tour New Orleans. With Taylor Swift and Sabrina Carpenter “working late” because they are singers on the Eras Tour stage with the Espresso/ Is It Over Now / Please Please Please mash up. They also talked about the magic of friendship bracelets and NOLA rolling out the red carpet for visiting Swiftys. They also covered the Travis Kelcie touchdown theory. Then then dive into Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince from Taylor's Lover Era. What did the guys think? Is it a bop? How does it fit into today's events? Listen in and find out. Tell us what you think @theswifttalk

Exploring the symbolism and genius of Taylor's music one song at a time. Setting the stage and naming the characters in this chapter. Also included radio information, where this song stands compared to her previous work and other songs from the album. Taylor swift is one of the most important artists of the 21st century. Everything about her has been loved and despised, on this show I unpackage her iconic discography one song at time. I will be going into the symbolism of her work as well as explaining the people name checked in Taylor's music. I will be sharing the success of each song (radio facts streams and sales) while I travel the world. This show is for the fans of Taylor Swift. This show is for people who love learning about the songs they hold dear to them. #TaylorSwift #Swifty #TSTTPD #erastour www.TheOriginalDoll.com ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.Instagram.com/The.Original.Doll⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.Instagram.com/IconographyWithJamesRodriguez⁠

The New York Liberty are WNBA CHAMPIONS… the New York Yankees are going to the WORLD SERIES… and Miss Americana herself brought the Eras Tour to South Florida. In this packed episode, Charlotte and Maddi are both on Cloud 9 (or you could say Maddi is on Cloud 13 and Charlotte is on Cloud Going-For-28.) 

In this episode we will uncover all the behind the scenes conniving and machinations that have made Taylor Swift the most feared woman in certain corners of America.This star studded episode features a supporting cast of Travis Kelce, Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, Fox News, Jesse Watters, The Pentagon, Greg Kelly, Newsmax, Donald Trump, Democrats, DNC, RNC, Republican Party, Democratic Party, Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, Sean Hannity, John Stewart, Super Bowl, NFL, Kansas City Chiefs, Seth Myers, Michael Jackson, Vice, The Daily Stormer, Andre Anglin, Elon Musk, Europe, Kim Kardashian, Miley Cyrus, Houston Law Review, Armenia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Russia, Ukraine, Marsha Blackburn, Miss Americana, Nashville, Oldsmobile, Sun Tzu, LGBTQ, Edward Carmack, Nathan Bedford Forrest and Forrest Gump. #666 #SketchComedy #Sketch #Comedy #Sketch Comedy #Atheist #Science #History #Atheism #Antitheist #ConspiracyTheory #Conspiracy #Conspiracies #Sceptical #Scepticism #Mythology #Religion #Devil #Satan #Skeptic #Debunk #SatanIsMySuperhero #Podcast #funny #sketch #skit #comedy #comedyshow #comedyskits #HeavyMetal #weird

In our second episode of the season, we discuss Neil's superb, recently published book Music Films: Documentaries, Concert Films and Other Cinematic Representations of Popular Music. We explore their significance, evolution, and the complexities surrounding their creation and reception, along with Neil's reflections on the challenges of writing for diverse audiences and the expectations of music fans. The conversation touches on the validity of music films in modern culture, the messiness of the genre, and the importance of representation, particularly regarding black artists and women in music. They also examine the ethical implications of music documentaries and the power dynamics at play in the portrayal of artists.  Neil's book is so comprehensive we couldn't cover everything but some of the films under discussion include Don't Look Back (dir. D. A. Pennebaker, 1967), Lonely Boy (dir. Roman Kroitor and Wolf Koenig, 1962), Whatstaxx (dir. Mel Stuart), The Punk Singer (dir. Kathleen Hanna), In Bed with Madonna (dir. Alek Keshishian, 1991), The Last Angel of History (dir. John Akomfrah, 1996), American Interior (dirs. Dylan Goch, Gruff Rhys), Miss Americana (dir. Lana Wilson, 2020), and many more. Here's a link to Dario's Substack article: 10 Music Films you may not seen (and are free on YouTube) You can listen to The Cinematologists for free wherever you listen to podcasts: click here to follow. Chapters 00:00 Introduction to Music Films and Their Impact 02:37 Neil's Journey with His Book 06:34 The Validity of Music Films in Modern Culture 08:54 Expanding the Canon of Music Films 11:31 The Messiness of Music Films 14:20 Writing for Diverse Audiences 17:23 Navigating the Expectations of Music Fans 19:50 The Balance of Coverage in Music Films 22:55 Exploring Authorial Voice in Music Documentaries 24:14 The Evolution of Music Film Styles 28:40 The Role of Technology in Music and Film 31:49 Gender Dynamics in Music Documentaries 34:31 Exploitation in Music Documentaries 37:28 The Complexity of Artist Representation 39:28 The Importance of Black Artists in Music Films 42:05 The Legacy of Music Documentaries 46:46 Women in Music: A Historical Perspective 50:47 The Power Dynamics in Music Films 55:32 The Ethics of Music Documentaries ___   If you haven't already, please consider becoming a subscriber to our Patreon channel: https://www.patreon.com/cinematologists   We are expanding our output so if you enjoy the show and find value in the work, any support you can give would be very much appreciated. You can become a member for the same price as a coffee a month.   We also really appreciate any reviews you might write (please send us what you have written and we'll mention it), and sharing on Social Media is the lifeblood of the podcast so please do that if you enjoy the show. ___ Music Credits: ‘Theme from The Cinematologists' Written and produced by Gwenno Saunders. Mixed by Rhys Edwards. Drums, bass & guitar by Rhys Edwards. All synths by Gwenno Saunders. Published by Downtown Music Publishing.

Unlocked Patreon episode. Support Ordinary Unhappiness on Patreon to get access to all the exclusive episodes. patreon.com/OrdinaryUnhappinessWe set out to discuss the Eras tour film but got drawn into the broader cultural phenomenon that is Taylor Swift. Along the way, we talk about the concepts of cathexis and the Big Other; our own embarrassing childhood attachments to music; how the Eras tour is like Nietzsche's eternal return; Swift's self-narration about her relationship to praise, food, and body image in Miss Americana; and Abby's unexpectedly strong negative investment in the Travis-Taylor relationship.Texts we discussed:Taffy Brodesser-Akner, “My Delirious Trip to the Heart of Swiftiedom,” https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/12/magazine/taylor-swift-eras-tour.htmlSam Lansky, “2023 Person of the Year: Taylor Swift,” https://time.com/6342806/person-of-the-year-2023-taylor-swift/Richard Rodriguez, Hunger of MemoryChristopher Bollas, Being a Character: Psychoanalysis and Self ExperienceHave you noticed that Freud is back? Got questions about psychoanalysis? Or maybe you've traversed the fantasy and lived to tell the tale? Leave us a voicemail! (646) 450-0847  A podcast about psychoanalysis, politics, pop culture, and the ways we suffer now. New episodes on Saturdays. Follow us on social media:  Linktree: https://linktr.ee/OrdinaryUnhappiness Twitter: @UnhappinessPod Instagram: @OrdinaryUnhappiness Patreon: patreon.com/OrdinaryUnhappiness Theme song: Formal Chicken - Gnossienne No. 1 https://open.spotify.com/album/2MIIYnbyLqriV3vrpUTxxO Provided by Fruits Music

Send us a textWelcome to Flashback Friday! This week we're returning to the Sundance 2024 Film Festival, to one of our favorite documentaries that is showing in a theater near you!Look Into My Eyes is an intimate look at a group of psychics in New York and their clients. Director (and return guest) Lana Wilson shares how she found clients willing to be on camera, the importance of witnessing someone, and the 20 minute lizard story that she struggled to cut down for time.Buy tickets for Look Into My Eyes here!Follow director Lana Wilson on IGListen to our previous interview with Lana Wilson about her film Miss Americana here Support the showThanks for listening and for your support! We couldn't have reached 11 years, recorded 800+ episodes, and won Best of the Bay Best Podcast in 2022 and 2023 without your help! -- Be well, stay safe, Black Lives Matter, AAPI Lives Matter, and abortion is normal. -- Subscribe to our channel on YouTube for behind the scenes footage! Rate and review us wherever you listen to podcasts! Visit our website! www.bitchtalkpodcast.com Follow us on Instagram & Facebook Listen every Tuesday at 9 - 10 am on BFF.FM

Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving: Part 2A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.“In her, shoot fast,” Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, “I want in her, my first use to take.”“First use?!” Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto’s big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn’t have long to contemplate that.“That is no problem at all, my lord!” Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb.“Oh, Great Justice!” Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping.“I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem,” he said, gesturing towards Americana’s cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs.“Very good!” Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. “This,” he said, squeezing Americana’s bulging silky cheeks, “is a very rich gift, indeed!”With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her.“Oh, my God,” Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief’s enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt.“That’s a sin!” one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives’ largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit’s great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem’s honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana’s flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men’s faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana’s body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana’s muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty.“Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?” one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana’s enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. “I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing.”The Pilgrim shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it’s pretty clear what he made this one for.”Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana’s giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine’s hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips.“Well, that and this!” he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow’s produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana’s belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them.“I say Reverend,” the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana’s continuing show. “Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.”“True,” the Reverend said. “But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?”“There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched,” the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. “I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?”“Hmm,” the Reverend Brewster said. “Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once.” As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims’ faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. “However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement,” he added, “it is not just God who must be consulted.”As it happened, the Reverend’s own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend’s sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each.“What say you, Mary?” the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything.“Hmm,” Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband.“I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release,” she said. “So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!” She lifted up a finger and glared.“Of course,” Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana’s moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded.“There is one other condition,” she added, hastily. “We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated.” She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. “So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?”The two junior Pilgrims’ eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing.“Good heavens!” the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips.“Is, is that permitted under Heaven’s law, Reverend?” the short one asked.“Uh,” Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. “To be honest,” he said, “I’m not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,”“Then there should be no problem, should there?” Mary asked testily.“I guess not,” he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God’s forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife’s, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives ‘peace offering’ could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line.“Open wide, and say your grace,” he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically.“Oh, yes!” Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. “T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!” he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster’s pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana’s marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's’ hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation’ that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot’s open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn’t have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives’ outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done.“Oh!” one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl’s’ practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary’s labia, and felt the Reverend’s hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle.“Just so you know, Miss Americana,” she heard Flag Girl’s voice say, excitedly, “the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President.” The events she was getting to witness through the professor’s Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. “Isn’t that cool?!” Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. “Wonderful,” she managed to moan into Mary Brewster’s cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl’s tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims’ 'peace offering’.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn’t seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it.“Shall we clean this mess up?” Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. “No need,” he said.“It can wait until morning,” Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. “Everyone is very tired and content.”“Especially her!” Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh.“Should we post a guard on her then?” Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head.“The Sachem’s warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods,” Squanto advised. “No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?”“Good point,” Governor Bradford admitted. “So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?”At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. “Now this, is a good idea!” he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor’s house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns sq

Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving: Part 2A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.“In her, shoot fast,” Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, “I want in her, my first use to take.”“First use?!” Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto’s big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn’t have long to contemplate that.“That is no problem at all, my lord!” Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb.“Oh, Great Justice!” Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping.“I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem,” he said, gesturing towards Americana’s cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs.“Very good!” Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. “This,” he said, squeezing Americana’s bulging silky cheeks, “is a very rich gift, indeed!”With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her.“Oh, my God,” Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief’s enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt.“That’s a sin!” one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives’ largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit’s great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem’s honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana’s flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men’s faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana’s body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana’s muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty.“Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?” one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana’s enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. “I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing.”The Pilgrim shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it’s pretty clear what he made this one for.”Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana’s giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine’s hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips.“Well, that and this!” he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow’s produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana’s belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them.“I say Reverend,” the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana’s continuing show. “Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.”“True,” the Reverend said. “But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?”“There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched,” the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. “I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?”“Hmm,” the Reverend Brewster said. “Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once.” As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims’ faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. “However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement,” he added, “it is not just God who must be consulted.”As it happened, the Reverend’s own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend’s sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each.“What say you, Mary?” the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything.“Hmm,” Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband.“I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release,” she said. “So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!” She lifted up a finger and glared.“Of course,” Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana’s moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded.“There is one other condition,” she added, hastily. “We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated.” She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. “So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?”The two junior Pilgrims’ eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing.“Good heavens!” the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips.“Is, is that permitted under Heaven’s law, Reverend?” the short one asked.“Uh,” Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. “To be honest,” he said, “I’m not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,”“Then there should be no problem, should there?” Mary asked testily.“I guess not,” he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God’s forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife’s, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives ‘peace offering’ could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line.“Open wide, and say your grace,” he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically.“Oh, yes!” Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. “T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!” he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster’s pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana’s marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's’ hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation’ that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot’s open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn’t have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives’ outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done.“Oh!” one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl’s’ practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary’s labia, and felt the Reverend’s hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle.“Just so you know, Miss Americana,” she heard Flag Girl’s voice say, excitedly, “the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President.” The events she was getting to witness through the professor’s Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. “Isn’t that cool?!” Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. “Wonderful,” she managed to moan into Mary Brewster’s cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl’s tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims’ 'peace offering’.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn’t seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it.“Shall we clean this mess up?” Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. “No need,” he said.“It can wait until morning,” Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. “Everyone is very tired and content.”“Especially her!” Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh.“Should we post a guard on her then?” Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head.“The Sachem’s warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods,” Squanto advised. “No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?”“Good point,” Governor Bradford admitted. “So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?”At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. “Now this, is a good idea!” he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor’s house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns sq

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit’s favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb.Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving“Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter,” Miss Americana said. “She’s flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I’ll help her write there’s no way she can fail.”Professor Whirter shook his head. “Miss Americana!” he gasped. “The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!”The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A’s on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana’s sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor’s newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana’s expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. “Professor,” she growled, “my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade’s money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?”The Professor’s blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. “Alright, alright,” he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine.“Ready?” Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum.“Ready!” Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it.“Perfect,” she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket.“Told you I heard a noise,” the tall Pilgrim said to the short one.“Heaven defend us!” the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them.“Hello,” Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. “Stay back, witch!” he said.His companion seemed less sure. “Are you sure she’s a witch?” he asked.“She’s a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?” the short one asked.“Hmm,” the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. “Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,”He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. “Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!” he said. “No speaking hexes, either!”Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims’ long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. “You boys are making a big mistake,” she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. “Fortunately I can correct it,”But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker.“Miss Americana!” Professor Whirter’s voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. “You cannot harm anyone in this period!” he said. “Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!”“Oh,” Miss Americana gulped. “Right,”She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less.“On second thought,” she said, “I surrender.”She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana’s hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain.“There,” he said, backing up. “The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.”“If you say so,” Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim’s head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. “Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out.”Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. “Let’s take her to the Elders,” he said. “Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her.”Miss Americana rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said, you oafs!” she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day’s large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. ‘Who would wear a bikini during this time period?’ she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea.“We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest,” the tall pilgrim said.“We think she’s a witch,” the short one said. “Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?”Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly.“I am not a witch!” she boldly declared. “I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan’s palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!”'That ought to fool these simpletons,’ she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony’s current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her.“Hmm,” Captain Standish said. “If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so,” he said.“Prove it? And how should I do that?” Miss Americana asked, indignantly.“If you were a harem girl,” Captain Standish said, “then you know how to dance like one. So, show us.” He turned his head to the man next to him. “Do you permit this Reverend?” he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana’s flesh. But then he nodded. “If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it,” he said.Americana gasped. “H-how can you ask me that?” she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. “The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission,” he told her. “So if your story is true then prove it.” He nodded up to the large table. “You can do it on there, if you would be so kind.”Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily.“Very well,” she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. “But I cannot dance in these!” she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana’s manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. “Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!” she said.And with that, she began to dance.“H-holy shit,” one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe.“That’s blasphemy,” a second beside him murmured. “Also, god fucking damn,” he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl.“Verily, my friends,” he said, “I was so distracted by the witch’s performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize’ stuff into the fire and, look what happened!”His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster’s ear.“Did the Lord really condone this, William?” he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. “After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale,” he said. “Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up.” Taking some of Captain Standish’s popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder.“Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!” he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. “The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!”At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana’s wiggling and grinding bubble-ass.“What?!” Governor Bradford gasped. “But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we’ll starve! Why have they turned back?!”The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana.“When the Sachem’s party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one,” he said. “The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,”At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock.“My ass is not fat!” she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. “Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn’t lead to fat!” she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. “What’s a stair-masterer?” he asked. “Some sort of Turkish siege engine?”Myles shrugged, puzzled.“Never mind that!” Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community’s attention off Miss Americana. “This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!”“Hmm,” said Captain Standish. “What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.”“But the whole point is we have no food!” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “What sort of peace offering could we give?”“We could give them our guns, or the cannon,” Governor Bradford said.“And surrender our only military leverage?” Captain Standish scoffed. “I would sooner dump them in the sea!”“The Indians are yet heathens,” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering’ might they be interested in?”For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped.“No,” she whispered. “No, no, No!” Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. “How, how can you even consider that?!” she hissed. “Aren’t you Puritans?! A Godly people?!”Reverend Brewster shook his head.“We are,” he affirmed. “But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!”Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana’s body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them.“I know well the meaning of the scarlet A’s,” Reverend Brewster said. “The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?”Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit’s favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb.Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving“Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter,” Miss Americana said. “She’s flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I’ll help her write there’s no way she can fail.”Professor Whirter shook his head. “Miss Americana!” he gasped. “The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!”The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A’s on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana’s sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor’s newly-built time machine waited.Miss Americana’s expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. “Professor,” she growled, “my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade’s money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?”The Professor’s blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. “Alright, alright,” he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine.“Ready?” Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum.“Ready!” Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it.“Perfect,” she cooed.There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket.“Told you I heard a noise,” the tall Pilgrim said to the short one.“Heaven defend us!” the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them.“Hello,” Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. “Stay back, witch!” he said.His companion seemed less sure. “Are you sure she’s a witch?” he asked.“She’s a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?” the short one asked.“Hmm,” the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. “Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,”He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. “Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!” he said. “No speaking hexes, either!”Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims’ long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. “You boys are making a big mistake,” she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. “Fortunately I can correct it,”But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker.“Miss Americana!” Professor Whirter’s voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. “You cannot harm anyone in this period!” he said. “Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!”“Oh,” Miss Americana gulped. “Right,”She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less.“On second thought,” she said, “I surrender.”She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana’s hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain.“There,” he said, backing up. “The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us.”“If you say so,” Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim’s head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. “Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out.”Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. “Let’s take her to the Elders,” he said. “Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her.”Miss Americana rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said, you oafs!” she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day’s large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. ‘Who would wear a bikini during this time period?’ she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea.“We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest,” the tall pilgrim said.“We think she’s a witch,” the short one said. “Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?”Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly.“I am not a witch!” she boldly declared. “I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan’s palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!”'That ought to fool these simpletons,’ she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony’s current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her.“Hmm,” Captain Standish said. “If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so,” he said.“Prove it? And how should I do that?” Miss Americana asked, indignantly.“If you were a harem girl,” Captain Standish said, “then you know how to dance like one. So, show us.” He turned his head to the man next to him. “Do you permit this Reverend?” he asked.Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana’s flesh. But then he nodded. “If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it,” he said.Americana gasped. “H-how can you ask me that?” she said.Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. “The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission,” he told her. “So if your story is true then prove it.” He nodded up to the large table. “You can do it on there, if you would be so kind.”Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily.“Very well,” she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. “But I cannot dance in these!” she said.At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana’s manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.Standing tall before the whole colony, Miss Americana lifted up her arms, and arched her body gracefully. “Prepare to see my skill, and know I speak the truth!” she said.And with that, she began to dance.“H-holy shit,” one Pilgrim gasped, gaping upwards in awe.“That’s blasphemy,” a second beside him murmured. “Also, god fucking damn,” he added, staring up as well.None of them had ever seen anything like it. Miss Americana did her best to imitate how she had seen strippers or slutty girls in night clubs dance, whenever she had ventured into those places as part of her crime-fighting duties. Lifting her arms up she shook her enormous cans in broad circles, making them slosh and bounce dramatically within the confines of her gargantuan yet overloaded bra. Going down low, she bounced her ass just above the table, while presenting an excellent view of her panty-clad crotch between her wide-spread thighs. Twirling about, she shook and shimmied her ass for them, showing off the grace and flexibility of her muscular legs at the same time she shook the contours of her enormous bubble-ass.Midway through her performance, there came a loud crackling, then a pilgrim suddenly came up holding a large wooden bowl.“Verily, my friends,” he said, “I was so distracted by the witch’s performance, I dropped the last of that 'maize’ stuff into the fire and, look what happened!”His large bowl was filled to the brim with popcorn. Passing it around, the Pilgrims munched eagerly as they watched Miss Americana, having become lost in her own perfectionism, continue to dance and dance seductively before them.A little later, munching a little popcorn of his own, Myles Standish leaned over and put his lips near Reverend Brewster’s ear.“Did the Lord really condone this, William?” he asked, chuckling softly.Reverend Brewster shook his head. “After so many deaths the colony certainly needed a boost of morale,” he said. “Clearly God sent us one. Also, shut up.” Taking some of Captain Standish’s popcorn, he munched on it as well as he watched Miss Americana, bent low at the waist, shake and shimmy her enormous breasts in such a way that he could like right down the tremendous cleavage between them.Suddenly, a distraught sentry came running into the midst of the colony, stopping only briefly, to gape at what he had been missing in wonder.“Governor Bradford, Governor Bradford!” he moaned, his eyes still darting over repeatedly to take in the dancing Queen of Justice in awe. “The Indians! They are not coming! They are turning back, and taking their food with them!”At this a great groan rose from the Pilgrims, even as they continued to stare at Miss Americana’s wiggling and grinding bubble-ass.“What?!” Governor Bradford gasped. “But our stores are almost depleted! Without that food, we’ll starve! Why have they turned back?!”The sentry nodded up to Miss Americana.“When the Sachem’s party came out of the woods, they saw the huge teats and fat ass on that one,” he said. “The Sachem said that if we had a woman of such bountiful proportions, we surely could not be starving, and had deceived him as to our lack of food,”At this, Miss Americana stopped dancing and gasped down in shock.“My ass is not fat!” she hissed, her face quivering in fury behind her mask. Reaching back she slapped her gloved hand against her ass repeatedly, turning so every member of the community got to see, showing off that though it was awesomely projecting and generously curved, every inch of her enormous bubble-ass was in fact taut and silky muscle. “Two hours a day on a Stairmaster doesn’t lead to fat!” she hissed.Reverend Brewster turned to Captain Standish, their veteran soldier and military expert. “What’s a stair-masterer?” he asked. “Some sort of Turkish siege engine?”Myles shrugged, puzzled.“Never mind that!” Governor Bradford said. He stood up, getting the community’s attention off Miss Americana. “This is a disaster! We have to find some way to make amends. If Massasoit breaks the treaty and stops giving us supplies, we are done for!”“Hmm,” said Captain Standish. “What we need is some sort of tribute to appease him, a peace offering, if you will.”“But the whole point is we have no food!” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “What sort of peace offering could we give?”“We could give them our guns, or the cannon,” Governor Bradford said.“And surrender our only military leverage?” Captain Standish scoffed. “I would sooner dump them in the sea!”“The Indians are yet heathens,” Reverend Brewster pointed out. “They do not follow Christian virtues. So what sort of 'peace offering’ might they be interested in?”For a short time, the Pilgrims looked at one another. Then, slowly, all eyes turned up to look at Miss Americana, and stared at her spectacular and well-displayed body meaningfully.Miss Americana stared back for a few seconds, still perched imperiously upon their table. Then, as she realized what they were all thinking, her jaw dropped.“No,” she whispered. “No, no, No!” Reaching up she folded her hands over her giant breasts, which given the quantity of her flesh on display, did little to reduce the quality of the goods for them to consider when evaluating potential tributes. “How, how can you even consider that?!” she hissed. “Aren’t you Puritans?! A Godly people?!”Reverend Brewster shook his head.“We are,” he affirmed. “But, woman, even God must recognize a lost cause at some point. Verily, I see from your attire that you have already committed adultery no less than four times!”Lifting his hand, he pointed to various parts of Miss Americana’s body. Upon her tiara and upon her belt was emblazoned a bright red A. Her red gloves also each had a large blue A upon them.“I know well the meaning of the scarlet A’s,” Reverend Brewster said. “The azure ones I am not familiar with, perhaps they mean you only soiled your mouth or your posterior entrance? But regardless, woman, I am a man of God, but at some point surely one does have to ask, is even the Good Lord Himself going to give the tiniest of shits about just a few more?”Looking down, Miss Americana gasped as she stared at the bright red A upon her belt, and the blue ones

In Part 4 of the July – September 2024 installment of UNFOLDING THE CALENDAR, Film Forum Director Sonya Chung sat down at the theater with Lana Wilson, the brilliant director of the new documentary LOOK INTO MY EYES, a revelatory portrait of psychics in New York City and the people who come to them seeking connection – on this plane or another one.  The film opens Friday, September 6 from A24. Lana has a long history with Film Forum. After working in our administrative office for several years early in her career, her bold, moving debut feature AFTER TILLER, about four of the US's most courageous and controversial abortion providers, opened with us in 2013. Since then, she has established herself as one of the most exciting and empathetic documentarians working today with the Spirit Award-nominated feature THE DEPARTURE, the IDA-nominated short-form series A CURE FOR FEAR, and two intimate profiles of iconic women: the Taylor Swift portrait MISS AMERICANA and the multiple Emmy-nominated PRETTY BABY: BROOKE SHIELDS. We are thrilled to welcome Lana back to Film Forum. Please enjoy their conversation.

First: Kamala Harris makes her first public appearance after last week's convention, while Tim Walz visits a place that Joe Biden was struggling to keep on the map. We tell you why they're making a push all over the Peach State.  Plus: "He's got to pay a price." That's what Nancy Pelosi said about Donald Trump when she was forced to evacuate the Capitol on January 6th. We bring you the exclusive footage of that day.  And: Democratic "Swifties" are trying to get out the vote for Vice President Harris, but the question they can't shake off is whether Miss Americana herself will get on board.    Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Taylor Swift's Eras Tour has returned to Wembley Stadium for another five nights, which means she will have performed the show in London more than any other city in the world. Why does London mean so much to the self-styled Miss Americana?To find out more about Tortoise:- Download the Tortoise app - for a listening experience curated by our journalists- Subscribe to Tortoise+ on Apple Podcasts for early access and exclusive content- Become a member and get access to all of Tortoise's premium audio offerings and moreIf you want to get in touch with us directly about a story, or tell us more about the stories you want to hear about contact hello@tortoisemedia.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Taylor Swift's Eras Tour has returned to Wembley Stadium for another five nights, which means she will have performed the show in London more than any other city in the world. Why does London mean so much to the self-styled Miss Americana?To find out more about Tortoise:- Download the Tortoise app - for a listening experience curated by our journalists- Subscribe to Tortoise+ on Apple Podcasts for early access and exclusive content- Become a member and get access to all of Tortoise's premium audio offerings and moreIf you want to get in touch with us directly about a story, or tell us more about the stories you want to hear about contact hello@tortoisemedia.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Send us a Text Message.Link to 2019 timeline.  Link to 2020 timeline. We are BACK to discuss everything you could ever want to know about the pop culture mega relationship between Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn so Swifties hold on to your butts because we've got details on their every move in the second part of 2019 and the first part of 2020, including Lover secret sessions, Miss Americana coming out, the Cats premier, Taylor's birthday, and so much more!Support the Show.

319: Egal, ob du “Swiftie” (Fan von Taylor Swift) bist oder nicht: In dieser Episode kannst du von ihr wichtige Lektionen für dein Business lernen. Denn Taylor Swift ist nicht nur eine begnadete Künstlerin, sondern auch eine erfolgreiche Geschäftsfrau. Miss Americana auf Netflix The True Story of Taylor Swift in der ZDF Mediathek Launchmagie®: www.launchmagie.de Meine Community “Sichtbar ohne Social Media”: www.katharina-lewald.de/sosm

Episode 113 - Taylor Swift and the Divine Feminine with Meredith Beardmore I'm so excited to bring you today's episode! I will be geeking out about Taylor Swift and the Divine Feminine with therapist – and Swiftie- Meredith Beardmore. Meredith Beardmore is a psychotherapist operating a private practice, the author of Hey Addiction, Thanks for NOTHING!: A Brutally Honest Guide to Loving an Addict Without Losing Your Mind, and is also known as “Mend with Mere” from her successful YouTube Channel. Meredith is an Ohio State University graduate with a master's in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. Meredith specializes in substance abuse treatment, helping family members of addicts and treating emerging adults with various issues, from identity development to depression. Her YouTube Channel, “Mend with Mere,” initially intended for therapy discussions, became a platform for analyzing song lyrics, primarily Taylor Swift's, garnering thousands of subscribers and over 5 million hours of watch time. I am so happy to have found MEND WITH MERE, and her channel where she often thoughtfully discusses, dissects and reacts to songs. I stumbled upon her page in the research that goes along w dissecting lyrics! The recent Taylor Swift album – the Tortured Poets Department- is rich with amazing and meaningful songs that really sent me down rabbit holes. I've recently become a Swiftie, and I'm not embarrassed to admit it! The more I've learned about Taylor Swift and her work, the more I've grown to love her! When she started the Eras tour last year I noticed all the girl mom friends of mine who went to see the show with their daughters were just as crazy to see her as their daughters were…  this intrigued me and I ended up watching the Netflix Special on her called “MISS AMERICANA”. From there I really grew to really respect her as an artist and person. It's clear she's a smart, self-aware and sensitive.  I only began delving into her catalogue since February of this year after watching her video for “You Need To Calm Down”. Seeing how she advocates for the LGBTQ really warmed my heart- I cried when I first saw it even tho it's not necessarily a tear jerker! As a mom to a transgirl it made me even happier to see someone with this platform saying F U to the naysayers. I then started listening to her on Spotify, just letting it play… I heard the song “I Did Something Bad” where she mentions how narcissists love her (common for empaths) and then she sang “They're burning all the witches even if you aren't one…. So light me up” and I got CHILLS so bad!! I could feel the power she was channeling and was floored! I later learned about the song Willow and her video for that where it looks like a coven of women dancing around the moon—fun fact, this tree is associated with Hecate—Queen of the Witches, goddess of the underworld connected to magic and divination. Witch isn't a bad word- a witch is a woman in her power who can transmute energy and Taylor Swift does just that. From the snakes being thrown her way w the bs drama she had with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, where she turned it around for fuel for her Reputation album, to changing the script on London and her relationship to that city (We recorded this just prior to those shows… Travis Kelce is clearly the Divine Masculine and his performance with Taylor on stage was so symbolic and amazing. If you don't know what I'm talking about, clearly you are NOT a Swiftie, lol. Google it! Night 3 London, June 22). They both really embody the divine feminine and masculine so strongly.  Nothing prepared me tho for when she premiered her performance of “Who's Afraid of Little Old Me” from her new album in Paris back in May. This was an empowered woman, not hiding her rage and playfully playing on people's fears/accusations of her being a witch. I ate that shit up!! Every single time I listen to or watch that song I get chills and my eyes fill with tears. She channels such power and light. Meredith and I speak about sacred rage, how it's necessary to feel in order to heal, we speak on intuition and how it grows after the arrival of our children. We speak about our kids on the spectrum and their heightened sensitivities, and we also touch on the oh so common narcissist and empath connection. I loved my conversation with Meredith, we meandered a bit and I love all the different directions we went in. I hope you enjoy it too!! Mend with Mere (YouTube) Meredith's website   Books mentioned: Anita Moorjani- Dying To Be Me (book on near death experience) Gabor Mate - The Myth of Normal (book connecting trauma to physical illness)  

The ERAs Tour pløjer henover verdenskortet og frembringer bogstaveligt talt jordskælv i de byer, hvor cirkusset gør holdt. Og det er midt i det ekstremt velkoreograferede kaos, at Taylor finder sin næste store kærlighed og samtidig beskyldes for at være hemmelig agent for Pentagon og Det Hvide Hus. Den nu 32-årige Taylor Swift står på toppen af verden og er mere ombejlet og omdiskuteret end nogensinde - men det er slut med at lade sig styre af andres meninger. Gæst: Frederikke Amalie Muff. Vært: Andrew Moyo. Lyddesign: Jakob Franck Jensen. Produktionsleder: Line Enggaard Fejer. Redaktør: Morten Narvedsen. Kilder: Jesse Waters Primetime, Fox News. New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce. Nightline, ABC. CBS NFL. Entertainment Tonight. Kens5 News. Late Night with Seth Meyers, NBC. MSN NBC. Miss Americana, Tremolo Productions, Netflix. BBC.

Fra toppen af Empire State Building i New York har en 24-årig Taylor Swift akkurat præsenteret verden for sit femte album, 1989. En uge senere har hun solgt flere end 1,2 millioner albums og slået alle salgsrekorder. Det går godt nu! Men det, Taylor ikke ved på det her tidspunkt, er, at der om lidt bliver lækket en video på Snapchat, der skal kaste hende ud i sit livs største krise. En video, der viser et telefonopkald imellem hende og Kanye West. Gæst: Frederikke Amalie Muff. Vært: Andrew Moyo. Lyddesign: Jakob Franck Jensen. Produktionsleder: Line Enggaard Fejer. Redaktør: Morten Narvedsen. Kilder: Cosmopolitan. ClevverTV. ClevverNews. Girls, HBO. Carpool Karaoke, Hollywood Life. Dailymotion. Kanye West Live Performances, Tidal. The View, ABC. Miss Americana, Tremolo Productions, Netflix. CBS Sunday Morning, CBS.

En 11-årig, lyshåret pige går med målrettede skridt ned ad gaden i downtown, Nashville. I hånden har hun en CD med covernumre, hun selv har indspillet - og tiden er inde til at pladeselskaberne i countrymusikkens hovedstad indser, at hun er det talent, de leder efter. Det skal hurtigt vise sig, at hun har ret, og det nye talent ser ud til at være ustoppelig. Lige indtil et af tidens mest anerkendte rap-ikoner afbryder hende midt i en takketale til et storslået awardshow. Gæst: Frederikke Amalie Muff. Vært: Andrew Moyo. Lyddesign: Jakob Franck Jensen. Produktionsleder: Line Enggaard Fejer. Redaktør: Morten Narvedsen. Kilder: Eyewitness News, ABC 7 Chicago. First Move, CNN Business. Miss Americana, Tremolo Productions, Netflix. The Ellen DeGeneres Show. Taylor Swift: A young singer's meteoric rise, 60 minutes, CBS. Graham Norton Show, BBC. Penford Media. BBC. VMA Awards 2009, MTV.

It's been one year since we saw Taylor live at MetLife. Hard to believe! In this episode, we cover the first and last songs of the Eras Tour, as well as discuss the changes Taylor has made to the set these last few weeks. Also, you're going to want to stick around until the end - otherwise, you'll miss the lore of the Car Shrimp™️ Follow us on TikTok and Instagram for other shenanigans @swiftlorepod! Thank you as always to all of our amazing listeners ♥️

Why are Republicans and the right losing their minds over Taylor Swift, the gifted songwriter and globe-bestriding pop star? Why do they think her NFL tight end and Super Bowl-winning boyfriend is secretly gay—precisely because he's dating Taylor Swift? Why is this slice of Americana being portrayed as a deep-state op meant to hand the 2024 election to Joe Biden? To try to answer these, and other, similarly bewildering questions, Matt and Sam talked to writer B.D. McClay, whose Substack, Notebook, has become the essential guide to understanding Taylor Swift, her place in our culture and politics, and why she drives right-wingers (but not just right-wingers!) crazy. Read:B.D. McClay, "taylor derangement syndrome: on losing the normies," Notebook, Feb 3, 2024— "cruel summer is going number one," Notebook, Oct 22, 2023— "your future is me: let's talk about (sigh) swifties," Notebook, Oct 7, 2023— "Taylor Swift studies takes a detour," Sept 4, 2023— "Taylor Swift, Rockist," Notebook, Aug 4, 2023— "Taylor Swift studies, contd," Notebook, July 3, 2023— "(but I'm only looking at you)," Notebook, May 29, 2023— "A Decade of Sore Winners," The Outline, Dec 31, 2019. Clare Coffey, "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince," Notebook, Sept 25, 2023Mark Harris, "Taylor Swift's ‘Look What You Made Me Do' Is the First Pure Piece of Trump-Era Pop Art," Vulture, Aug 30, 2017Edmund Smirk, "Swiftian Normality and the Freak Right," The American Mind, March, 7, 2024.Watch:Taylor Swift arguing with her Boomer Republican father about Tennessee U.S. Senate race (YouTube)Taylor Swift, folklore: the long pond studio sessions (2020)Bob Dylan, "Murder Most Foul" (2020)...and don't forget to subscribe to Know Your Enemy on Patreon for access to all of our bonus episodes!

Loren, Gracie, and Abby are back to talk about Trofeo Alfredo Binda over the weekend and look ahead to Brugge-De Panne and Gent-Wevelgem coming up. Plus, if you haven't seen Miss Americana on Netflix … well, now you've got your night planned for you, you're welcome.

Loren, Gracie, and Abby are back to talk about Trofeo Alfredo Binda over the weekend and look ahead to Brugge-De Panne and Gent-Wevelgem coming up. Plus, if you haven't seen Miss Americana on Netflix … well, now you've got your night planned for you, you're welcome.

Las elecciones autonómicas gallegas y el titubeo de Alberto Núñez Feijóo con la amnistía para Puigdemont han trastocado la estrategia nacional del

On the eve of Super Bowl LVIII where the Kansas City Chiefs will face off against the San Francisco 49ers, we are talking about the darling's of this football season, Taylor and Travis. We discuss Taylor's 2020 documentary Miss Americana and the recent documentary Kelce in which Travis features prominently. We ship this couple and hope that Taylor can make it back from Japan to Vegas to catch the big game! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On this episode of Swiftie School I'm talking about a fun new way to connect with me, THE MOMENT we will never recover from, the Grammys, and the Super Bowl. In the Swiftie Submissions. I also talk about the 4 things that had you guys *running* down Clownelia Street!Referenced in the episode:Guest in Residence brandSarah @taylorswiftstyledIt's another great day to be alive at the same time as Taylor Swift!For more swiftivities follow the host at @reagan.baylee on Instagram.Submit an easter egg, theory, guest or episode topic request here: https://forms.monday.com/forms/5bc3aaaba66ab48125fdccab0bb1de03?r=use1

Subscribe to get access to the full episode, the episode reading list, and all premium episodes! www.patreon.com/OrdinaryUnhappinessWe set out to discuss the Eras tour film but got drawn into the broader cultural phenomenon that is Taylor Swift. Along the way, we talk about the concepts of cathexis and the Big Other; our own embarrassing childhood attachments to music; how the Eras tour is like Nietzsche's eternal return; Swift's self-narration about her relationship to praise, food, and body image in Miss Americana; and Abby's unexpectedly strong negative investment in the Travis-Taylor relationship. Texts we discussed:Taffy Brodesser-Akner, “My Delirious Trip to the Heart of Swiftiedom,"https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/12/magazine/taylor-swift-eras-tour.htmlSam Lansky, “2023 Person of the Year: Taylor Swift,”https://time.com/6342806/person-of-the-year-2023-taylor-swift/Richard Rodriguez, Hunger of MemoryChristopher Bollas, Being a Character: Psychoanalysis and Self ExperienceHave you noticed that Freud is back? Got questions about psychoanalysis? Or maybe you've traversed the fantasy and lived to tell the tale? Leave us a voicemail! 484 775-0107 A podcast about psychoanalysis, politics, pop culture, and the ways we suffer now. New episodes on Saturdays. Follow us on social media: Linktree: https://linktr.ee/OrdinaryUnhappiness Twitter: @UnhappinessPod Instagram: @OrdinaryUnhappiness Patreon: patreon.com/OrdinaryUnhappiness Theme song: Formal Chicken - Gnossienne No. 1 https://open.spotify.com/album/2MIIYnbyLqriV3vrpUTxxO Provided by Fruits Music

In June 2019 Scooter Braun's Ithaca Holdings LLC acquired Tylor Swift's music catalog as part of a transaction involving Big Machine Label Group LLC. She has since the original transaction been very vocal in her disgust about the deal, which she was never involved in. A few months later, her overall influence on popular culture caught the attention of Alicia Bargar from Johns Hopkins, who discussed at the August 13, 2019, NATO misinformation conference how the pop star could potentially be used to influence pubic option artificially. In December of that year, Swift commented on the deal involving her music by saying: “After I was denied the chance to purchase my music outright, my entire catalog was sold to Scooter Braun's Ithaca Holdings in a deal that I'm told was funded by the Soros family, 23 Capital and that Carlyle Group.”In her 2020 documentary Miss Americana, her image began to arguably change in the sense that she took a pro-establishment stance. Video has resurfaced of her talking to her family, particularly her father, about taking a stance on extreme right politics - preachily the kind of thing such powerful families like the Soros would revel in. So while the ‘Taylor Swift is a government asset' conspiracy is not a formal documented thing, per se, we can be certain her image and career has continue to be shaped in order to itself shape public option on certain political matters. In fact, such an idea is par for the course of history. Take the Laurel Canyon story of the creation of our modern Hollywood music industry. Frank Zappa's father Francis Zappa worked as a chemical warfare specialist for US military, being stationed at Edgewood Arsenal, one of many locations for MKULTRA. Jim Morrison of the Doors was the son of US Navy Admiral George Stephen Morrison, who was responsible for fabricating the Gulf of Tonkin incident. Not the mention the Doors were named after a book on psychedelic experiences and human perception, written by Aldous Huxley - who said “in the next generation or so a pharmacological method of making people love their servitude” would be operational. Music, drugs, and sex, were the cornerstone of the Hippie movement which would go on to hijack the anti-war movement. David McGowan documents this history in detail in his book Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon.One only needs consideration Taylor Swift's Eras tour, and as it spread worldwide, so did the Eris variant. Simultaneously, her celebrity boyfriend Travis Kelce, dubbed Mr. Pfi*er, was promoting products to fight Eris - named after the goddess of discord. Then there is that theory Taylor is in some way related to Zeena LaVey. But that is a whole other conspiracy.FREE ARCHIVE & RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/the-secret-teachingsTwitter: https://twitter.com/TST___RadioWEBSITE, BOOKS, RESUBSCRIBE YEARLY: http://thesecretteachings.infoPaypal: rdgable@yahoo.comCashApp: $rdgableBuy Me a Coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/tstradioSUBSCRIBE TO NETWORK: http://aftermath.mediaEMAIL: rdgable@yahoo.com / TSTRadio@protonmail.com

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Live from TS | The Eras Tour) Audio.TS | The Eras Tour

Cara joins me to dive deep into a revisit of Taylor Swift's documentary, Miss Americana.Support the show

I recently watched Taylor Swift's documentary "Miss Americana" and ya'll… that got me emotional. All the bullshit she had to endure at such a young age in the industry (I'll share with you what that was if you're unfamiliar), her not seeing anyone for an entire year, and coming back and the year becoming a billionaire putting on the highest grossing revenue tour EVER. There are many lessons we can learn from Taylor and I share my biggest ones with you today.   Time Stamps:   (2:30) Why This Documentary Made Me Emotional (5:28) Societal Conditioning (9:25) We've All Been There (12:00) The Truth About My DM's (21:00) Using Your Voice (24:06) What I Can and Can't Live With (25:05) I Want to Challenge You --------------------- Stay Connected: Instagram: @alyciaisrael Facebook: Alycia Israel Apparel: Be Your Own Daddy

What does a 19th century philosopher and economist have to do with Taylor Swift? In this week's episode we put on our Marxist Theory glasses to consider how the ideas of ownership, value, and class differences help us understand Taylor's music in a whole new way. Maansi teaches us what it means to belong to someone in “Mine.” Jenn digs into the political metaphors in “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince.” And Jodi teaches us about social class differences with the incredible true story behind “the last great american dynasty.” Tune in to learn all of this and see how much fun it can be to play with new literary lenses (even if you don't necessarily agree with the underlying philosophy).    Mentioned in the episode:  “Mine," Speak Now  “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince," Lover  “the last great american dynasty," folklore  Who Cooked Adam Smith's Dinner by Katrine Marçal “Politics of Love and Love of Politics: Towards a Marxist Theory of Love” by Raju Das 1984 by George Orwell Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury Bluebood by Carl Unger (Rebekah Harkness biography)  Les Miserables by Victor Hugo Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens ***   Episode Highlights:  [00:25] Introduction to Marxist Theory [04:07] “Mine” from Speak Now [23:05] “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” from Lover [38:57] “the last great american dynasty” from folklore   Subscribe to get new episode updates: aptaylorswift.substack.com/subscribe   Follow us on social!  TikTok → tiktok.com/@APTaylorSwift Instagram → instagram.com/APTaylorSwift YouTube → youtube.com/@APTaylorSwift Link Tree → linktr.ee/aptaylorswift Bookshop.org → bookshop.org/shop/apts This podcast is neither related to nor endorsed by Taylor Swift, her companies, or record labels. All opinions are our own. Intro music produced by Scott Zadig aka Scotty Z.

Welcome back to Analyze Scripts, where a psychiatrist and a therapist analyze what Hollywood gets right and wrong about mental health. In this episode, we comment on the block buster hit featuring the iconic Taylor Swift in her most recent tour. As we go through the Eras we comment on why the movie was so emotional for us and others. Seeing women, and some men, of all ages singing, smiling and dancing together was magic. Listen to us analyze some of her songs from the tour such as "Anti-Hero" and "All Too Well" (the 10 minute version) as she describes such common feelings and emotions that Swifties of all ages relate to. Her lyrics transcend generations and bring us all together at a time when we could all use a little "Peace." We hope you enjoy! Instagram Website Youtube TikTok Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Hi, I'm Dr. Katrina Fieri, a psychiatrist. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And I'm Portia Pendleton, a licensed clinical social worker. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And this is Analyze Scripts, a podcast. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Where two shrinks analyze the depiction of. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Mental health in movies and TV shows. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Our hope is that you learn some legit info about mental health while feeling like you're chatting with your girlfriends. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: There is so much misinformation out there, and it drives us nuts. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And if someday we pay off our student loans or land a sponsorship, like. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: With a lay flat airline or a major beauty brand, even better. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So sit back, relax, grab some popcorn. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And your DSM Five and enjoy. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, wherever you are. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Welcome. Portia Pendleton LCSW: We're so excited today. This is our first video, so hopefully it's not like a garbage can dumpster fire, but we'll see. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah, we're really excited to be I think Portia, like, our tech has come a really long way in just when did we start recording? I think. Was it January or February? Portia Pendleton LCSW: I want to say end of January. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: End of January. So, like, less than a year. And, like, look at us go. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I've got the lighting, some props. You have some props that may be giving hints today about what we're going to be talking about. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Some paraphernalia here. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Look at that. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Very excited. I'm going to let you intro it because I know you are such a swiftie. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So today we're going to be talking about the era's tour movie, which we thought would be just such a cool idea. So typically. Right. We're talking about, like, fiction, movies, TV shows, stuff like that. But we had to cover the Era's tour movie about the tour. Neither of us have seen the tour yet. I think it was a lot, and neither of us had the foresight to see that. You had to log in right, like, the second and buy the tickets because you couldn't afford them if you wanted to buy them after the fact. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah. I don't think we should be super hard on ourselves because I think it was impossible for almost anyone to get a ticket. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I do think this was a really nice way for everyone to get to see it who hasn't been able to go. And I kind of enjoyed it. I kind of enjoyed this way. Portia Pendleton LCSW: It was incredible. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah, I told you. I think we should just start there. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I felt like I had a religious conversion, honestly. I was like, whoa. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So tell me about when you went. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Have you seen it more than one time? Portia Pendleton LCSW: I've seen it twice. I saw it the first time with my husband. We went on a very busy weekend. It was my sister in law's wedding. I officiated the wedding. So there was, like, event dinner, breakfast, whatever. And then that night, it was like, we're going to the Arrows tour movie. I don't care how tired you are. I don't care that it's Sunday night. Like, we're going. So I saw it with him, and it was amazing. And I do have a little story to tell tickets, like, when it came out. And so it said that the Era's tour would be only showing in AMC movie theaters. Right? I remember I searched AMC in the movie theaters when I got in, right? It was like, you're in the waiting room. I was like, oh, my gosh, I'm getting tickets. This feels amazing. And so I bought them kind of far away because we have movie theaters closer to us, but they're not the AMC ones are not. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Right? Portia Pendleton LCSW: So I bought two sets of tickets. So I had four tickets, like two different nights. And I did not go to either of those. I didn't end up selling them. I just last minute bought closer tickets. That's like a difference of like an hour, ten minutes. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah, it was a cost benefit analysis. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Return the tickets. I have to say that's annoying that there were no refunds. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I know. Because I think someone else would have liked them. Like, they were early the weekend they came out. So I don't know. I just couldn't be bothered again. It was really stressful. So I've bought ticket sets to four, and I've gone to two and they've all passed. So it's not like I could do anything about that. But my husband was, like, laughing by the time because he was like, we spent really a fraction of what the. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Real yes, that's the thing. I bought two sets, and then I did end up selling one of them. I was able to resale them for like $5 less than I bought them for. But I knew someone would be able to buy them because I went with my daughter who's about to turn five. I can't believe it, but she has become a little swifty, like, in the past six months. It started over the summer when she was at camp. I picked her up from camp and she was like, mom, do you know who Taylor Swift is? And I was, you know and then whenever we'd hear a song on the radio, she'd be like, this is Taylor Swift. And I was like, yeah, it's so cute the way she says her know, just in her little girl voice. And then one day I picked her up and a counselor, I think, had shown them some sort of video, whether it was a concert video, music video, but she was so cute. She got in the car and she was like, mom, I saw Taylor Swift today. And she was dancing, and she had microphone and she was singing. She had never crossed her mind that you could do all those things. And in my head, I was like and she plays instruments. Like, wait till you see. Um, and so then she's really gotten into Taylor Swift. And it's so funny because she only knows her new songs, like the karma one, she know. But if like, Love Story comes on the radio and I'm like, oh, this is Taylor Swift, she's like, no, it's not. What are you talking about? But anyway, so I took her and we had like a little Halloween event at their school beforehand. So she was like in her Halloween costume. It was just me and her, and it was like the time of my life. It was so great. She had so much fun. We got the popcorn and was just it was so cool because I felt like I'm there with my daughter, but then we're surrounded by all these women. It reminded me of when we went to see Barbie, how it was just experience and a very female experience. So there were other moms with their older daughters, like tween teens. Then there were like teenagers, early 20s, who were there by themselves, but as a group, all dressed up. There were all these friendship bracelets. A girl gave my daughter a friendship bracelet, which was that's so sweet, cute. And my daughter kept wanting to get up and go dance with the big girls. So then we'd go, like, in the back where all the older girls are dancing, and they all were, like, filming themselves, I guess, for their social media, but it was just so pure and adorable and sweet and it was just so fun. I had so much fun with her, and I was impressed. There were times where she was getting like she wanted to go during the slower sets, but then luckily it would pick up. It was like 1989, and then we would get back into it. But it was just so fun. It was so fun. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So when I went, I got a lot, like, teary eyed multiple times because there's definitely people of all ages, right? Like the little kiddos I didn't see, like well, actually, the second time I went, there was really young ones there, probably around your daughter's age and then older, right? So like forty s, fifty s, teens my age, whatever. And women of every age were there singing everything, laughing and just like, loving life, and it was just like so beautiful. So the first time I saw it was definitely more hyped, right? Like, people were singing and dancing and that was great and awesome. And then the second time I saw it, I went with my friend and we were sitting in between this group of women who are in their sixty s and seventy s, and it was like quieter, and I really appreciated that because then the slow songs I just was like weeping during and they were so into it. I forget which one it was. I think it was the song. It was after All Too Well, and then one of the more sexy ones, they were like, Whoa. Like screaming and clapping, and I was like, wow, okay. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I know, I just thought also in the movie. Taylor is having so much fun. You can just tell she is just like loving what she's doing. And I was like, if only we could all feel that way with our I just it was so cool to see her loving it so much. And I just thought it was so cool to I like how she didn't do it chronologically. It seemed like it wasn't chronological right. In terms of which era she was doing. It wasn't like we're going to start at the beginning and go till the present. And I liked that because you got to see all these different eras of her life and just see how she's grown up but in this mishmashed way, right? From love story to the sexy chairs to the man to everything. It was so cool. And the dancing was great. I loved the diversity of her dancers from body type, gender, race, skin color, everything. It was awesome. And that she just highlighted them all. I loved all of the intense walking with all of it. I was like, I want to walk. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I Know. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: What if you imagine you come out to get your patient? Never. But it reminded me back of our dancing days with doing like jazz walk off the floor. I just missed that walk. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Her Shoes. I love shoes. So they're all custom louboutins red bottoms. The boots, I was like, oh, the pink ones, the blue ones, the midnight blue ones. They were stunning. And I wanted to know and then she had loafers that were louboutins and like a new shoe leather. Right. Nice. They typically hurt. Obviously hers were broken in. Obviously they were like and obviously shelted. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Like butter, I'd imagine. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Right form to her foot. And I was like, how can I get a pair? Obviously not one that she wore, because that would be insanely expensive. But I just want one of them so badly. And we'll see. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: We'll See. If anyone else has a hookup, let us know. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So the eras were in order of. We started with Lover and then there was Fearless evermore Reputation. Speak now. Red Folklore, 1989. Then the acoustic set, which we got in the movie. You're on your own, kid. And then our song. And then ended with midnights. What did you think about the order? You said that you liked that it wasn't right. Like from debut on? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I did. Because I think I like that they could intersperse the slower sets and then the hits and then some slower stuff. And I think since I haven't historically been, like, a grade A swifty, I just like her music. But I'm not out there. There would be these songs that I hadn't heard before. I'm ashamed to admit maybe, but I was like, oh, that's lavender haze. Or hearing the songs or the albums that maybe I didn't listen to. And then the hits would come next. Or, like, the more upbeat songs, I guess. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: So I liked it. But what about you? Portia Pendleton LCSW: I really loved it. I think it helped me find more songs that I have been really liking of hers. I really like Midnight's a lot. I think I knew her debut album, right? Like the classic, like, our song, her Country More album. And then I don't think I was really in it for fearless and speak now. So I kind of bopped back in after those two. And then I ended up seeing which was, yeah, I knew Red because that was when I turned 22. So that was very fitting. Taylor is one year older than me, so talking about why people feel so close with her is that she's been making music forever. And it's always been luckily for me, which I feel like is a gift. So on brand for what I'm going through and high school. Right. Like, growing up, love, heartbreak into more now. I think some of the slow songs, like, are adult. Yes. They don't have to be, but just some of the feelings and experiences are so fitting now that it's just like. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: But even though from the beginning, I feel like they were so fitting. Right. So she said it spans 17 years, which is astounding. Right? And so she was like 15 writing this stuff. And I was hoping we would touch on this because I think clearly her music and just like, her as a person resonates with the masses internationally. Right. And I find that really fascinating because on the one hand, just stereotypically, she is a privileged, skinny, white blonde girl who's pretty. Right. So on one hand, I feel like we could all really hate her. Right? Portia Pendleton LCSW: I think people do, but not I. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: But do you know what I mean? On the one hand, she kind of was very blessed coming from a supportive family that had a lot of money, who could afford to chase her dreams with her, could afford to move to Nashville, all of that stuff. I feel like you could argue, like, she's starting off with a huge privilege in that way. I don't think you can say that. That's not true. And even if you go back to her early songs, the songwriting and the emotion behind it is amazing. And I really feel like she's like a savant in terms of music and songwriting in particular. And even the way she sings the songs, like the inflections in her voice when she's singing versus kind of talking, the tone of her voice, the way she delivers it. For me, I think it's like all of that together that resonates with everyone. And I just think, what a gift. I think it started all the way back with Wasn't Teardrops on My Guitar her song? Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: All the way back with that. To our song to Love story. Like the early ones. They speak to you. Right. And I spend so much of my professional life helping adults find words to describe their feelings. That, to me, it's, like, amazing that a 1415 year old could capture that in a beautiful way. Not just, like, acoustically beautiful, but the words she's saying and the message conveying. Right. It's astounding. And then I think just seeing this movie tour and you see her evolution and how her songwriting all the way to the presenting has gotten so much more complex and evolved and gritty. It's amazing. I'm so amazed. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. I think her lyrics are just, like, why she's so amazing and well liked and well received. Because I think everyone has experienced everything that she talks about. But the way that she describes it is so it makes you feel, like, seen, I guess I'd say, right? It makes it really resonate with you. It makes it feel like there are words for it. It's like, even if it wasn't a football player, it's still someone in high school who didn't like you back when you really liked. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I think it's so funny to me that it's like, she is the it girl now. So the fact that this It girl, even back then, skinny, pretty, blonde, rich girl, felt like an outsider, it's just interesting. But I think it speaks to, like, we all feel like that no matter what no matter what your background is, no matter what you look like, no matter what privilege you have or you don't, we all feel like that at different times and right. I think she just really speaks to it. And she grew up speaking to her reputation. I love the Reputation album. I love 1989. But those grittier songs about her reputation or about how she handles the scrutiny, oh, my God, so good. And then it's so catchy. Right? It's not just like, the lyrics are great. They just get in your head. Like, it's so catchy. You can't I know. It's amazing. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. It's hard to get some of them out. I'm not a fan of shake it off. Yeah. It's just not where I am right now. I'm more like Folklore Evermore, some midnights vibe. And I liked Shake It Off when it came out, but it's like a lot of people were like, oh, there's like, other songs from that album that you could have put on there that are better. I think Shake It Off, though, is like a radio hit, right? It's, like, fun to dance to. Everybody likes it. It's so catchy to the point where it's like, can I shake off shake It Off? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I was sad that Wildest Dreams wasn't in there. I love that one. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I know, because it was in the tour. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Right? I think there were a couple that were in the tour but didn't make the movie. And I'm sure they have to cut out at some point. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. I really wanted to hear The Archer, so when I went, I was, like, elbowing my husband, being like, okay, this is next. This is next. This is next. And I was like, oh, the Archer is next. And it didn't happen. What? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: You knew the order of the songs going in. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah, because it's the same as the tour. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Okay. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And I watched a lot of Lives live streams, and then I have the playlist on my phone, so it didn't come on. And I was like, am I missing something? Like? What was the archer in Lover? Am I totally off? Is it 1980? No, it's not 1989. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Blah, blah. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So it was like the Archer cardigan. Wildest dreams. And then no body, no crime. I don't love no body, no crime. But I was really disappointed about the Archer cardigan and Wildest Dreams, like, bombed. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah, no, I think a lot of people were, but I think at some point they have to cut some. Like it's already super long. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Right. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: So. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Just also giving her some props. So top grossing music concert film ever already. Followed by Justin Bieber with his Never say never one. And then Michael Jackson. This is it. And then Hannah Montana Best of Both Worlds, which I thought was, like, so funny. I loved Hannah Montana, definitely didn't see it. But it was also a little yeah, but I'm curious to see how Beyonce's tour does Renaissance. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: That's awesome. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I think it's coming. We know it's coming out. Yeah. So she's going to do a movie, another opportunity, which I think is so great for people to be able to see their favorite artists without spending hundreds or thousands of dollars. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: So I appreciate it. For Taylor Swift, like, literally thousands, let alone, like, airfare hotel. And you think there's probably a lot of people out there who maybe just even physically can't get know. And so it is really cool way. I also think it's so cool that this year I feel like it's been like women at the box office. We had like, Barbie and now we have Taylor Swift. And I was reading something that know, they released it independently, not with a major studio. And just this is another thing I love about Taylor Swift is she clearly is. So like, on the one hand, I'm like, what does it feel like to be that powerful? On the other hand, I'm too scared to know. But she's so powerful and she uses it in, I think, some smart ways like this, like releasing it without a studio backing her. At a time when all the strikes are happening and there's so much tension between the studio execs and the creatives, it's just like sort of showing them we don't really need you if our content is good enough. And I just feel like that's kind of smart. And I feel like we know movie theaters and stuff have been so struggling for a long time, and especially since COVID So it's just like injecting a lot of into that sphere. It's just like stuff like that I find really interesting. And I think some of her, I'd say, like, in the past decade. Some of her songs I'm specifically thinking of. You need to calm down. I love that song. But her lyrics that are just very shade, never made anybody less gay. You've just said so much. It's just so smart. And I think she's been more political in the past few years. And it's just like, what a way of using your power. Right? Portia Pendleton LCSW: And we saw that with Antihero, too, right. So antihero is like, right? The radio hit of midnight. And it's just, like, all about mental health. So in case this is your first episode, we are two mental health professionals who typically talk about movies, diagnosing TV characters and talking about mental health themes that we see. But we thought it'd be fun to take a little bit of a detour with this and talk about just, like, her impact on mental health. There's a lot of articles that came out after the Eris tour tour started. One of them I tried to find, but it's like behind a paywall new York Times, the psychologist or psychiatrist was talking about the week and just hearing constantly about Taylor Swift, about the lyrics, about what's going on with her and just how that's impacted our sessions and the yeah, it's amazing, right? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And I think, like you're saying, Portia, she speaks to entire not even just one generation, not even, like, the generation she belongs to, but like, you're saying you see older women there, you see very young. Like, my daughter hasn't been in love yet, except, like, with me, of course, but she doesn't relate to all these words yet. But there's something about her she relates to already. Right. And to me, that's fascinating. And I think sitting there in the movie with her, seeing these other young girls, seeing older mothers there with their daughters, then being at this phase of my life, I just felt very connected to all different phases of my life. And I feel like that's what brought me to tears. That was overwhelming. And I felt like that at Barbie, too, when we went just seeing all the moms and daughters and stuff like like, you just feel connected. And I think that she just does that for the masses somehow. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I know, and I think it's got to come back to her presence. I think she's very relatable and even some of the stuff on the level of the stage that she is so privileged within, right? Like celebrity culture, artists, et cetera. It's like right. We can all remember some of the not so nice things that happened to her. Very Kanye, you know? Then her albums with Scooter Braun. And it's just like it's so interesting watching someone again who does have a lot of power and privilege be able to do something about it. And I think sometimes we don't have that ability. And that feels really bad, which, of course, it does, but for her, to be able to be such a model of resilience, trying to own your power and use your resources where you can I don't know, just, like, own your stuff is so empowering. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I 100% agree. And I think with all of her privilege also comes this huge level of scrutiny and criticism, which I don't think any of us can imagine what that's really like to live through. And for her to have navigated that from the age of, like, 1415 to now as a woman. Right. I think the man really speaks to that in a fun, cheeky, catchy way, but really speaks to it. And it's been really fascinating to watch her evolution as she has tried to manage all that scrutiny. And I think we got some insight into her own sort of mental health struggles, which I don't think we need to fully get into. But with that documentary that came out during COVID what was it? Miss Americana? But it was to see that it does get to her and it's like, well, duh. Of course it does. It would get to any of us. Even that makes her relatable. But even just like, the way she talked about it in that documentary wasn't like it didn't, to me, at least, feel like attention seeking. It seemed more like, this isn't stuff she talks about a lot. She doesn't really want to talk about it, but she's putting enough out there and with antihero and stuff like that to sort of say, I'm going through this. This is how I cope with it. And I think that helps make her relatable. But then to see her still shine and bounce back or rebound or grow from it and make art from it and express herself in a way that connects with the masses again, I think is really inspiring. And I think not everyone can do that. Not everyone would be able to get back up after all of that. Heavy, heavy. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So I was listening to a podcast with, you know, that I really enjoy him and his book, but Josh Peck has a podcast, and he had, like, open invite. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Josh Peck? Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So they had the guest, Taylor Lautner, on their podcast, know, We Know, dated many years ago. Ironically, he did marry a So Now, which I just think is so hilarious. But anyway, he was talking about Know from them then and just saying how they kind of reconnected because he was in one of her more recent music videos and she's just so nice and hardworking and creative. And now, a couple of days later, Travis, Kelsey's dad, was interviewed about her and just talking about how she was cleaning up trash in this week. And it feels which everyone is saying, right, and I believe, but, like, really authentic. It's not performative. It's not like, oh, I'm putting on this act where I'm so nice. It's just like, she doesn't have that diva mentality, even though she should. Right. It's like she's the number one pop star ever and is so popular and could get away with it. Right. But it's like she's so grounded. And I think taking time off and really not being in the public eye at certain times, maybe in response to some difficult things, has really helped that. And even just thinking, like, I can't imagine what it would be like to be someone of her levels, like therapists. Right. I don't know if she has one. I'm not saying she does, but I can't imagine. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: But I would imagine she does. Or she has at some points, I would hope. Or maybe her parents are just like, astoundingly amazing, like amazing supports. She's had some level of support to help, I think, keep her grounded. And I totally agree. I think she does have a reputation of being nice. And I think you just see that. You just feel it from her. And I agree, it doesn't feel, performative or put on. And then there was an article that came out a while back just saying she gave all of her tour drivers like $100,000 bonus. I feel like she just does stuff like this. And I was like going down a reddit rabbit hole in preparation for this episode and just seeing what do people think of her? Because I'm sure there are people who hate her. I'm sure she's been rude to someone at some point in her life because she's human and we all have, but I think in general, she seems just very nice. And even the stuff with Sophie Turner lately, how she was going through a hard time and all of a sudden Taylor's with her and she kind of swoops in. I feel like for her friends at Important, and maybe there is a bit of it that's for publicity, but I think that's an example of her using her power for what she feels like is right or good or things like that. Right. And I feel like, sure, there's probably been some caddiness in the past, I would imagine. I don't know. But I get that sense that she's just like, nice. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah, I think so. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And I think that it's like, how does that happen? How did you not become a raging narcissist? Right. In our succession episodes, we talked a lot about, well, when you live in that environment, how could you not be? Right? And it's like, how could she not be? But somehow she's remained grounded. It really seems like again, I have no idea. I could be totally off. I haven't. Portia Pendleton LCSW: It's just that like, phenomenon, right? When everyone is doing something for you all the time and everyone is so happy to what do you need? Or what do you want? Or, you're so amazing. And that's in your ear, it's like people who run in those circles, whether it's just from wealth or it's from fame that changes you, that becomes right. So I think. It's really interesting that that's not ever the case of what we see the public ever. It's like so many artists or celebrities, right. It's like they were rude to a person at a restaurant or she has, which she should. And I think it's similar with the Kardashians, like really good NDAs right. Nothing's getting through, even though there's some pictures lately. But she just seems like she has a really strong support system, which I would know kind of as just a general way to judge it to Britney Spears. Right. So it's like Taylor Swift appears to us to have this strong secure support system where it's like I think her dad people have talked about is into finance. So he did really well with putting her money in places and looking out for her. Exactly. And then we see someone who did not appear to have a good, strong support system to protect around her. And it's know that's not as simple as it is, but it's like that's a good example. Know just the differences or what I would imagine Taylor Swift has and how important it is. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Right. And I think Taylor Swift is an individual person, but she's also like a machine, right? Like it isn't just a know, like she's got her in house management, which again is like smart. I think she's learned to keep it all in house, is what it seems like. We should take a page from her book as our podcast obviously grows to be wildly successful. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So let's go through if you want to. I thought it'd be fun to just go through like the antihero lyrics. Oh my God. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Because there's one line that's my favorite lyric, perhaps, of all time. I bet you can guess what it is. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I can. It's coming up. I think it's like the third verse. Okay. So it starts with I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser. Midnights become my afternoons when my depression works. The graveyard shift. All the people I've ghosted stand there in the room. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Everyone just shut the door, just stop. Like amazing. And also spot on for clinical depression. It affects your sleep cycles. You tend to be up in the middle of the night. You have what we call like a delayed sleep cycle. So you fall asleep way later, and then you have a harder time waking up in the morning hearing that. I'm like, she has experienced depression. That's what it feels like. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And I think it's really funny because when you are experiencing depression, you often are not responding to people. And I have a lot of clients who there's a lot of anxiety about their text or their imessage, their Snapchats growing. And now it's like 100 or 40 or whatever and just being paralyzed with not being able to respond. And that can feel right, even if it's not intentional. Like you're ghosting your friends. So all the people I've ghosted stand there in the room. Right. Like, staring at me, like, all the pressure to respond. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: It's just like, yes, 100% kiss social isolation 100%. And also it speaks to maybe how self critical you can feel when you're clinically depressed episode. Or maybe even some people are just way more critical of themselves. We call that having a critical superego. But it kind of speaks to that too. Like, maybe these people aren't really thinking about her, but she is feeling all this guilt for not getting to them. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Absolutely. All right, so the next couple of lines are, I should not be left to my own devices. They come with prices and vices. I end up in crisis pale as all this time I wake up screaming from dreaming. One day I'll watch as you're leaving because you got tired of my scheming. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: For the last time. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So what do you think that's about? If I'm taking it really directly, I wake up screaming from dreaming. So maybe having some nightmares, like anxiety dreams about what you're doing. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Go ahead. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Some just like, lack of maybe confidence. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Right. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Like, I should not be left to my own devices. I think a lot of people who experience mental health challenges, there's separate ones that you are overly confident or inappropriately confident, but the majority of the other ones we see more typically, there's like a big confidence hit. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah. And I think it speaks to when you're feeling more depressed or anxious, it's common in human nature to use unhealthy coping strategies like everything from overeating to not exercising to using substances to maybe something like self harming behaviors. I think it kind of speaks to being stuck in the muck of depression, maybe, and feeling like you can't get yourself out. And also that wondering if the person you love will still be there for you or if this is going to push them away. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I know that's good. That's a good analysis. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And then we come to the chorus. So it's me. Hi, I'm the problem. It's me at tea time everybody agrees I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting. Always rooting for the antihero. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Can she get a Pulitzer Prize, please? Like, this is astounding. This still isn't my favorite line. You know it's coming up. Portia Pendleton LCSW: You know which one it is? I do. So I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror I think is so good with, like, you'll hurt yourself, you'll blind yourself, you'll cause pain or whatever, but you won't kind of look at what's really maybe happening about you, the self awareness to get that insight. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And it's like it is so hard to look at yourself, your true self, and own up to or acknowledge the parts of ourselves that we don't like or that we want to change or that we know are getting in our own way so hard. And it just really speaks to that. And that's even harder when you're in the throes of depression or even just like stress. Even if it's not like a clinical mental health issue. Even just like being overwhelmed with stress. Oh my God. Totally. That might be my second favorite line. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So then we come to the part that everybody was like, what does that mean? Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby and I'm a monster on the hill. Too big to hang out, slowly lurching towards your favorite city, pierced through the heart but never killed. So to me that feels like a little bit of her talking about body image. Right. So everybody's sexy and attractive and I'm this monster on the hill. So I'm this clumsy, lurching, uncomfortable in my body. I don't know how to move it. I feel detached from it, which is pretty common if you're having any type of body image issues, which she's talked about having and then pierce through the heart. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I was just going to say this was the one in the movie right. Where on the screen was like a giant tailor lurking around right. And kind of like an awkwardness and I feel like her awkwardness as beautiful and tall and blonde and skinny that she is, she still has this awkwardness that I think makes her relatable that people latch on to, but I imagine for her has been uncomfortable. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Well, she's tall. I know a lot of people tall women have a hard time being tall. Like it's just with partners, with clothing. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: 100%. I'm sure she has faced so much scrutiny in the media about her body and her changing body from teenagerhood to now. Right. Even watching her dancing, like in the movie, there were parts where she was a little awkward, but I liked know and I think people like it, but I would imagine for like when you are up against Britney Spears or other well, you might feel a certain way. So I totally that can speak to that. Portia Pendleton LCSW: She's definitely a lyricist and know she's not a dancer. I think she does a great job, but that's why she has amazing dancers. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Right. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So here we go. Yeah. Did you hear my covert narcissism? I disguise as altruism, like some kind of congressman. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: That's it. It's my favorite line. Portia Pendleton LCSW: So we talk a lot about narcissists. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yes, they're I think just like everywhere in America culture, period, but a lot on our screens in terms of TV shows and movies. But holy can I say holy ****. Holy ****. First of all, covert narcissism is such a high level concept. I feel like the average person wouldn't understand. And that is just spot on that a lot of times people who are really altruistic, but in a way that you're putting it out there for everyone to see, that's where it's coming from. Oh my God. Every time I hear that line, I'm floored. And I love that the masses are consuming this because maybe somewhere in there. There's a kernel that makes you think or makes you wonder, like, what is that? Maybe you look into it a little more. Right, right. Portia Pendleton LCSW: And then her comparing it to some kind of congressman. I think it's common knowledge. I don't think it's like a hot take to say that most politicians are Narcissists. I think you have to be, in a way, to believe that you should be a leader of the masses, even if you're a great leader or you're a bad leader. But then I think we've talked about, too, that's where you see the differences between covert and overt Narcissists. We could give examples, but we're not going to because we don't talk about real people or make judgments. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Yeah, but listen to our old episodes about succession, about even the Nightmare Before Christmas. We touch on this with the mayor. We've touched on it a lot. Our stuff about you. We've touched on Narcissism a lot. And I think I think of Narcissism much like I think of a lot of different things, especially in regards to personality development, as being a spectrum. And there is like, we all need a healthy amount of Narcissism to be self confident, to put yourself out there, to advocate for yourself. It's like the people who don't have enough of it are often the ones who, like, people please too much, get walked all over, don't put themselves up for the promotion. Right. You need a healthy amount of it, and then you need to have a healthy amount of empathy to be able to keep it in check. And it's when it's all the way to the side where you don't have any empathy, where it becomes, like, a real issue in your relationships. Oh, my gosh. And, yeah, there are certain fields, like politicians, I think any field where you're a leader in some way, there might be a higher percentage of people with these. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. We katrina loves talking about Narcissism, so if you have an interest in that fairly so the last verses or little dribble of words is just about her saying, right? Like, my daughter in law kills me for the money, which I think speaks to her storytelling, or just like, who knows? I'm making a huge assumption here, but I don't know if I was her I think there's all these people who might be out to get you, right? Like, take advantage. I don't think it's real paranoia. Right. We've talked about this before, too, with succession, and just like, people are out to use you for whatever, for clout, for money, for any kind of gain, and that's really why. Right. She seems to have such a secure network where it feels like it's balanced, right? Like, people are getting paid well to work for her, and that builds trust. And she has a lot of long term relationships. She has Tree, who's I think her publicist, who she's had for decades, and that I think just speaks to people are really rooting for you. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I think that also just speaks to her character that despite being patapulted into fame and everything she's gone through, if there are these people that have been there for a long time and she can maintain those relationships, I think that speaks to her character. Getting back to her grounded, humble nature. I just think that's a good point. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So the one other thing that I wanted to cover is kind of the idea of gaslighting. So in the all too well ten minute version, which was just literally a religious experience to watch, this is where. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I was like, I need to watch this ten minute music video. I haven't watched it yet. I hadn't watched it before, but I was like, up googling on Wikipedia on Reddit, trying to figure out what is up with this red scarf? Portia Pendleton LCSW: What did you find? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Found a lot of stuff about maybe it was about a relationship with an older man that was short lived. Maybe it involved, like, her virginity and stuff. And I was just like I had a lot of feelings about it. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah. So obviously there's iconic lines in this, like, f the patriarchy. And then one of the lines, which is like, as I get older, your lovers stay my or as you get older, your lovers stay my age. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And that was like, after apparently he broke up with her because you're too young, kind of thing. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah, I heard a lot about and I just do in general, a lot of people will throw around the word gaslighting, like, oh, he was gaslighting me, or they were gaslighting me, or blah, blah, blah, blah. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: And I think that this song why. Portia Pendleton LCSW: It resonates, at least for me, and I think some others have said this, too, is because at the end of the song, when she says and she repeats this over and over again, wind in my hair, I was there, I was there. Down the stairs, I was there, I was there. Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there. It was rare. You remember it. And I think that's just such a good example of how and in the music video, which is so good, with Sadie Sink and Dylan O'Brien, who are kind of like acting it out, you see Dylan O'Brien's character, like, gaslighting sink, like, kind of over and over and over again with like, what do you mean? And know the reactions of, well, I can't believe you said about my friends versus no, I'm telling you, why did you drop my hand? And so Dr. Romani, she's like a psychologist. She does a lot of interviews on TV. She was on the red table, like, a while ago, and she talked about the difference between lying and gaslighting, which I thought was really helpful. And I use right, like, so if you give a liar evidence, they will stop lying. So if you Katrina and this is the example she uses, were, like, telling me that you didn't go to this party, and I find a picture of you at the party. I'm like, oh, Katrina, but you were at the party and you were oh, like, yeah, you're right. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I'm sorry. Portia Pendleton LCSW: I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you weren't invited. I'm sorry you found the evidence. Or you could be embarrassed. You could have whatever reaction. But a person who's gaslighting you will double down and be like, I can't believe you would find a picture that's so crazy you would go to all these lengths to do this. So now it's about your mental health, right? You're crazy. And I just love that example of it. And then you're saying, I was there, I was there, over and over again. It's like no, I was there. I remember it all too well, is just so powerful. And the way she repeats it, it's like she's singing it to herself. Is she singing it to me? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Because when you are being gas lit and again, I hate to bring it back to narcissism, but very common psychological abuse technique of people with narcissistic personality traits is gaslighting, which what we mean by that is like, when you are confronting someone with these traits with a reality saying, like, hey, you hurt me. You did something wrong. You're confronting them about something they've done wrong. They can't tolerate it because people with these traits can't hold on to good and bad simultaneously, especially about themselves. They have such a deep sense of insecurity and feelings of worthlessness and nothingness that they can't hold on to it. They have to project it outward and put you down so they stay feeling up here and good about themselves. Some people do this in an overt way, like the grandiose kind of way. Other people more covert. And we have other episodes where we can get into that more. But with gaslighting, when you confront them with something like this, they can't tolerate it. So I have to flip it around and make you the bad guy. Sort of make you start to doubt your own sense of reality and make it seem like, well, did I remember that correctly? Or did I do something to provoke that behavior in them? And that's what you're talking about, and it really is crazy making. It makes you feel really confused. So I think when she keeps repeating to herself, I was there, I was there, it is like her reminding herself, like, no, I was there, and her sort of coming back to her sense of self and reality over and over, which happens when you're in a relationship with someone who's doing this to you. Whether it's romantic, your boss, a parent, like 100%. It's so challenging to recognize and so hard to explain. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yeah, I think it's a feeling I wish we could bottle the feeling of it because I think it's such a not necessarily. It shouldn't be such a common experience with one person, because if it is, then they're probably most likely a narcissist. But we've all kind of experienced. Someone gaslighting us and it's a feeling, it doesn't feel good, it takes us aback, and then right, it puts all the attention back on you and you feel right. So I don't know. Taylor Swift, her lyricism is amazing. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: I think in general, like you just said, at Best Portrait, she bottles feelings, really complex feelings and emotions and life experiences. She can just bottle up and deliver in a catchy way. Portia Pendleton LCSW: That's the power of it. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Oh, my God, it's just amazing. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Well, as we wrap up, we could spend hours and going through many songs. Maybe we will do a couple of songs here and there. I don't know, maybe we'll get a. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Patreon someday and we can just go. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Through some of them because there's a lot, obviously. But thank you for watching. If you've kind of enjoyed this episode with us, we're so happy to have you here. This, hopefully, is the first of many of our video episodes, but if you are just listening audio, feel free to, like, rate, review and subscribe and follow us on Instagram at Analyze Scripts Podcast as well as TikTok at Analyze Scripts Podcast as well. And we always look for recommendations, right? So send us movies, TV shows, characters you want us to talk about, and anything else you want to add. Dr. Fury? Dr. Katrina Furey MD: No, I think if you're listening to this and not watching the video, it'll be on our new YouTube channel. So we're really excited. If you're listening but you haven't subscribed, please subscribe. We're so close to hitting one of our milestone benchmarks and we're really excited about it. So we appreciate everyone who's tuned in so far. And I got to say, we really appreciate Taylor Swift and how she has been able to put words to really difficult feelings in a way that resonates with so many. Like, it gives me some shivers to think about how so many people feel understood by one person. And I hope she keeps using her power in a good, positive way. Portia Pendleton LCSW: Yes, I agree. Thanks for listening. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: See you next Monday. Bye. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: This podcast and its contents are a copyright of analyzed scripts. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form is prohibited. Unless you want to share it with. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Your friends and rate, review and subscribe, that's fine. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: All stories and characters discussed are fictional in nature. No identification with actual persons, living or deceased places, buildings or products is intended or should be inferred. This podcast is for entertainment purposes only. The podcast and its contents do not constitute professional mental health or medical advice. Listeners might consider consulting a mental health provider if they need assistance with any mental health problems or concerns. As always, please call 911 or go directly to your nearest emergency room for any psychiatric emergencies. Thanks for listening, and see you next. Dr. Katrina Furey MD: Time you sam, don't.

It's us (hi!). Sami and Holly are comin' straight home to your feed with our next special episode of Speak Now (@ Betches Version). We've come up with a gorgeous new way to track our Taylor Easter eggs, and this week we're breaking down Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce's enchanting weekend in NYC, their lipstick stained PDA, and BOTH of their surprise SNL appearances. Holly shares her experience after seeing the Eras Tour movie on a date, and Sami shares her deep dive on the NYT article all about Miss Americana. What does Travis think about his dad meeting his new flame? And his new Kansas City mansion cost how much?! Speak now or forever hold your peace in the comments if you liked this and want more. Check out our latest promo codes here: https://betches.com/promos Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's football for the girlies. Before we dive into your questions about football complexities, we discuss the potential of Taylor Swift dating Chiefs' tight-end Travis Kelce. Speaking of tight ends- what even are they? We'll tell you that and so much more. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Whether you are a pro climber, small business owner, coach, writer, filmmaker or any other entrepreneur in the climbing industry, Taylor Swift has something to teach you. In this Board Meeting, Kris and Nate draw what might seem an odd comparison: pro climbers and Miss Americana herself, Taylor Swift. With some of the recent industry drama surrounding the Eddie Bauer athlete team firing and the shuttering of the big print mags, the topic of what it means to be a paid pro climber, writer, or creative these days is up for debate. Kris compares the outdoor industry to today's music industry, where – thanks to streaming services like the one you're probably using to listen to this episode right now – artists are no longer making money from their music but rather ticket sales, brand collaborations, and other outlets. An artist or athlete's accomplishments alone, be they a #1 hit song or a groundbreaking FA, are no longer enough. Taylor Swift seems to have figured it out, so maybe the pros should be taking notes. Special thanks to Lauren Abernathy and her crew of Swifties for pointing me to good lyrics to pull for this episode.  The Power Company Podcast is brought to you by Power Company Climbing and is a proud member of the Plug Tone Audio Collective. You can help us keep episodes sponsor-free by becoming a Patron for as little as $3 a month. Find full episode transcripts and more at our website.