Podcasts about miss williams

Counselors and Affirmation.Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Seeking AffirmationI fall prey to a predatory therapist.Based on a post by nymphicDisclaimer: Sexual relations between therapists and current clients are expressly prohibited.It took me years to become this relaxed in front of my therapist, able to share the most shameful parts of my mind with ease. All the vile, disgusting parts nobody else gets access to: he always reacts with a cool, detached professionalism. He's heard it all before, and worse, he tells me, and I've stopped apologizing for the revolting things I tell him: all my self-destructive habits, my awful intrusive thoughts, my horrific violent urges.It takes me one careless sentence for all that trust to crumble.We're talking about how my current beau is terrible in bed, leading me to mention how I think about other men when I'm fucking him. “And you're one of them,” I add. Carelessly. Completely unnecessarily.He pauses, then looks up from his notes. “Come again?'Without the input of my brain, my mouth decides the best course of action is to blab further. “Sometimes he gets me so close, but not close enough, so to tip myself over the edge, I think about you. You must know how hot you are, your beard, and tattoos, and curly hair, and...' I trail off as I notice his amused expression. “What?'He places his notes to the side and folds his hands over crossed legs. “You're placing an awful lot of trust in me to share this.'And I'm beginning to regret that, with the way he's looking at me like something to be devoured. I shrug. “I imagine you're good at your job. Or at least professional enough not to take advantage or be a creep.'He says nothing. The clock behind him ticks.'I think I'm the last person you'd creep on, anyway,' I continue, stammering. “I, this is just a little crush. On a therapist. I know there's no chance of reciprocation, not that I'm hitting on you, or anything, but I mean,”“There are a lot of assumptions you're making,” he interrupts. His gaze is intense, eyes so dark I can't tell where the pupil ends and iris begins.“Hmm?” My mouth dries.He counts off his fingers. “You assume I'm good at my job. You assume I'm not a creep, or a predator. You assume your fantasies are not reciprocated.”Whatever rapport we've built has evaporated. I feel numb, foggy. I'm distantly aware that I could be in danger, but I'm frozen to my seat as he stands, like I'm a rabbit caught in the jaws of a fox.“You have no idea what I'm capable of, do you?” he says, towering above me.My hands shake uncontrollably. “I don't understand?” I whisper. Surely, he won't...? There's no way, he wouldn't... not for me, surely?His smirk is lazy, predatory. “Stand,” he says, a strong command.I shrink into the chair. This can't be happening. I refuse to believe it.“Stand,” he repeats, and there's an irresistible dominance to his voice.What can I do but obey? I wobble to my feet like a newborn deer, and his hand clamps around my throat. I choke out a pitiful little gasp. He walks me backward until my spine hits the wall. I'm trapped.“What are you doing?” I whimper, my voice high and pathetic with the way he squeezes.His laugh is unkind, humorless. “What do you think I'm doing? I'm giving you what you want.” His voice is baritone and gravelly, a lion's purr, and his breath comes out hot on my face. I shiver. “Don't tell me you haven't touched yourself to the thought of this,” he says.He's not wrong.With the hand that isn't around my neck, he snakes his way into my jeans. Deftly his fingers find their way under the fabric of my underwear, and to my shame and horror, they caress the moisture building beneath my folds.“So wet, already?” he whispers, “It's disgusting, how badly you want me.” The words are harsh but they betray a smug satisfaction, and it sends a heat surging through me.His grin widens as he palms my aching vulva. I don't mean to, but my hips buck into him, and he chuckles.“Don't worry, I'll give you what you want.'“No, no...” I shake my head and whimper as his finger plunges inside me. I don't want this, I don't. It was just a fantasy, it was never meant to be real, and I never thought he would, but he hooks his index inside, grazing the pad against my front wall, and the moan that slips from my mouth is obscene.The hand around my neck suddenly slaps over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up,' he hisses, but he doesn't stop, and can't contain the moan that muffles into his palm as he fucks his fingers inside me.“Fuck,” he groans, “can you hear how wet you are? How sloppy you are?” His beard scratches at the sensitive skin of my jaw. “So pathetic and needy, a pathetic little whore.'His palm is wet over my face, and I realize I'm drooling.“Pathetic little whore,” he repeats, wiping my spit on my face. My legs inch wider and I hear the indecent sloshing of my arousal beneath his hand. “Bet you get off thinking about this after each session, don't you? Horny little thing. You'd beg for it, wouldn't you? Beg me to rape you?'I try to shake my head, but the hand over my face grips too tight. My thighs start to shake, and I can feel my wetness leaking, dripping down the top of my thighs, gooey and disgusting, just like me.“Tell me you would. Beg me.” His voice is so harsh, but it's so hot the way he's degrading me like this, and I'm slipping further and further off the edge. Tears spill down my cheeks as I shake my head. I do want to beg him, beg him to stop, but despite it all I can myself approaching the edge. The heat builds in my belly, thighs clenching his hand in a vice as they shudder and quake, and I'm so, so close, and I don't want him to stop, and I hate myself for it.“Oh no, oh no you don't,” he says, “You're not going to come already, are you? Fuck, you're more desperate than I thought.” His movements roughen, adding another finger, fucking into me relentlessly. “Don't do it, don't you fucking do it, you're not allowed to come, you're not allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting slut, “He's whispering hotly into my neck, like an open-mouthed kiss, and it's too late. I hurtle over the edge, falling apart, mouth open and drooling as I come undone on his fingers.He steps back. “Disgusting,” he says.I whimper and slide to the floor, red-faced and sweaty. I curl myself into a fetal position. I am disgusting. Nausea churns in my gut, and the room swims in front of my eyes.He squats beside me. His hand, the one which was inside me just a moment ago, wipes my wetness over my face, smudging my slime over my lips. He pushes his fingers inside my mouth, making me taste myself, then takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him through half-lidded eyes.“Such a slut. You can't be anything more than a worthless whore, can you?” He tosses me aside and stands. “Get on your knees.”Before I know it, I'm doing as he says, sitting back on my heels as he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. I barely have a moment to breathe before his hand is fisting my hair at the nape of my neck and urging me onto his cock, shoving me down as far as I can go, until it slams against the back of my throat. I have to hold onto his muscular thighs for balance, the way he roughly drives into my open, slobbering mouth.Above me, his mouth hangs open, breathing heavy. A flush spreads across his cheeks, and his brows furrow.'What would your friends say, if they could see you like this?” he growls. “Debased like this? If they could see the pathetic whore you really are? Would they laugh at you, knowing how much you love being face-fucked like this?'My eyes roll back in my head and I sob, my mouth stretched around him. Rivulets of saliva dribble down my chin, my neck, between my breasts, which jiggle from the force of his thrusts.He makes a rough sound at the back of his throat. “Fuck... Would they use you like I am? Would they want a turn to ruin you? Fuck your pretty little mouth like I am? You wouldn't stop them, just let them take what they want, just like I'm taking what I want from you, oh, you're so good at taking my cock, “He pulls out and I gasp for air, gulping raspy breaths. I fall back, hands catching myself on the carpet as I try to recover, but before I can, he's positioning himself behind me, manhandling me so I'm on my hands and knees, face pressed against the carpet, ass presented to him like an offering.No preamble, no warning, he slams himself deep into me. The sound he makes, a feral and debauched groan, might be the hottest thing I've ever heard. It's equal parts primal and hedonic, all pretense of keeping quiet long forgotten. His blunt nails dig into the soft flesh of my hips as he drives himself into me, over and over and over.It's animalistic and it's savage, the vulgar slapping of his balls against my skin, the sweat and snot and tears and dribbling down my face, the wretched sobbing squeaks I make as he fucks me relentlessly. It is both endlessly hot and humiliating. There's the heat of shame curdling in my gut, how I shouldn't want this, it shouldn't feel so good. But then the way his strong hands tangle in my hair, pulling me, dragging me up against him; then the way he clamps his canines into my neck, the sharp painful pleasure of it; the way I know I couldn't fight him even if I tried. The way I am completely and utterly at his mercy; all of it has my thighs clenching and quivering as my second orgasm builds.“You're gonna come from this, huh? You close again, huh?” he pants in my ear. “This is what turns you on? Used like the worthless piece of meat you are?'I can't pretend. Sobbing, moaning, covered in drool and snot, I nod. “Uh huh. You can have me, you can use me. Have me however you want,” I whimper in my phlegmy voice. “You're so; oh; I'm so close; I'm gonna.'“Nope,” he says, suddenly pulling out of me, all at once leaving me empty and wanting. “You're not going to come again. You're mine to use, you're not allowed to like it too, you greedy little slut.” He rolls me over on my back, and, kneeling above me, strokes himself over my face. I open my mouth, tongue out, ready for him, while my fingers press against my aching clit, desperately clutching at the remnants of my ruined orgasm.“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, “slimy, disgusting little slut. Fuck, you're so perfect.” He continues to mumble words both degrading and flattering until, with a final moan, his come spills over my tongue, hot and salty. As his spend drips down my flushed face, my hips gyrate into my hands and I spill over, too. My second orgasm is a weak, ruined shadow of the first, empty of my therapist but full of disgrace. I feel thoroughly debased. Disgusting. Glazed with spunk, a husk of a woman.The air is hot and thick with sex. There's a heavy ache in my center, a cold emptiness, as I stare up at the ceiling. I still don't believe what's just happened. There must be some mistake, some misunderstanding. Maybe I'm having a psychotic break. Maybe this is all in my head. Some fantasy turned foul.I can hear him re-buckling his belt and shuffling about at the desk, until he appears beside me, gently helping me sit upright. Tenderly he wipes the goo from my face with wet wipes, deep brown eyes searching mine. His dark curls are plastered to his face with sweat.“Nobody will know about this,” he says in a low voice. “You have my word. I know better than anyone how fragile you are, and how poorly you will handle anyone knowing how you threw yourself at me like that. Nobody will know what a greedy whore you really are. You can trust me.” The cruelty in his words are softened by how gentle he's being, softly caressing my shoulders as he wipes away the gunk from my skin.He's taking care of me.It's nice.He's a good person.He helps me to my feet. I shake like a lamb.“Anyway, our time is up.” He opens the door and ushers me out. “I'll see you next week.'The last I see of him is a predatory, vulpine grin, before the door clicks shut.Clinical PleasureKate visits Doctor Yang to treat her sexual dysfunctions.Based on a post by nymphic“Kate Williams?” calls the receptionist.At the sound of her name, a fair-complexioned young woman jerks her strawberry blonde head up. “Yes?”“Doctor Yang is ready to see you. Third door on the right.”Timidly, Kate walks up to Doctor Yang's office. She smooths her dress and takes a deep, shaky breath before entering.Doctor Yang looks to be in his mid-forties--black hair slicked back, greying at the temples. He's fit, with wide shoulders, and his shirt bunches around his elbows where the sleeves are rolled up, showing off well-defined forearms.He gives Kate a firm handshake before ushering her into the room. “Miss Williams, welcome, I'm Doctor Yang. Pull up a chair.”She perches primly on a chair of squeaky vinyl while he takes a seat behind his desk. There's an ancient, blocky computer taking up so much space on his desk, there's barely room left for the messy notes scattered about. Behind, a curtain half obscures an examination table. At the sight of it, trepidation bubbles in Kate's stomach.“What brings you in today?” the doctor asks.“Um.” She stares intently at the floor, unable to explain to this handsome doctor all of her sexual inadequacies.After the silence between them becomes sufficiently awkward, Doctor Yang takes pity on poor Kate, clearing his throat and shuffling his notes.“Look, it's normal to be nervous, but I assure you, I've heard it all before. This is a judgement free space, and I'm here to help you.” He looks at her with kind, dark eyes. “Whenever you're ready.”Kate fiddles with the hem of her sundress as she begins. “Well, I'm in a pretty new relationship right now, and. We're having intimacy issues.”“Intimacy issues,” says Doctor Yang. There's a distinct lack of judgement in his tone, which calms the anxiety in Kate's stomach. He's almost detached as he clack-clack-clacks the clunky keyboard. The behemoth computer buzzes and whirs away as he types. “Tell me more about the issues you've been having.”“My boyfriend and I; he's the one who urged me come here; are, well. We just started sleeping together. And I'm finding it quite difficult.” She bites her lip.“Difficult in what way?”Kate looks down at her sandals as she says, “I'm told sex ought to be pleasurable.”Doctor Yang chuckles, showing off deep dimples. “It's generally supposed to be, yes. That hasn't been your experience?”Kate shakes her head, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders. “No, not the times we've tried together. I just can't see how anything can... fit.” She can feel her face heating up. “Every time we try it's so uncomfortable for me. Sometimes it hurts. Plus, I've never been able to... get there. Not when we're together, at least.”Doctor Yang nods. “You know, many women your age have that experience too. It's completely normal.”“What? You mean this is just how it is?”She must look panic-stricken, because Doctor Yang immediately backtracks. “No, no! It shouldn't hurt, it should never hurt! What I mean to say is that this issue is more common than you realize, and it's definitely something I can help with.”She slumps back in the chair with relief, air whooshing from her lungs.“To get to the bottom of your problem, though,” Doctor Yang continues, “I'm going to ask a few personal questions. There will be no judgement from me, I just want you to answer honestly. Is that okay?” His face is open and friendly, and Kate trusts him, but what could he mean, personal questions? How much more personal can it get?“Sure,” she says, and if Doctor Yang notices her hesitation, he doesn't let on.

Counselors and Affirmation.Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Seeking AffirmationI fall prey to a predatory therapist.Based on a post by nymphicDisclaimer: Sexual relations between therapists and current clients are expressly prohibited.It took me years to become this relaxed in front of my therapist, able to share the most shameful parts of my mind with ease. All the vile, disgusting parts nobody else gets access to: he always reacts with a cool, detached professionalism. He's heard it all before, and worse, he tells me, and I've stopped apologizing for the revolting things I tell him: all my self-destructive habits, my awful intrusive thoughts, my horrific violent urges.It takes me one careless sentence for all that trust to crumble.We're talking about how my current beau is terrible in bed, leading me to mention how I think about other men when I'm fucking him. “And you're one of them,” I add. Carelessly. Completely unnecessarily.He pauses, then looks up from his notes. “Come again?'Without the input of my brain, my mouth decides the best course of action is to blab further. “Sometimes he gets me so close, but not close enough, so to tip myself over the edge, I think about you. You must know how hot you are, your beard, and tattoos, and curly hair, and...' I trail off as I notice his amused expression. “What?'He places his notes to the side and folds his hands over crossed legs. “You're placing an awful lot of trust in me to share this.'And I'm beginning to regret that, with the way he's looking at me like something to be devoured. I shrug. “I imagine you're good at your job. Or at least professional enough not to take advantage or be a creep.'He says nothing. The clock behind him ticks.'I think I'm the last person you'd creep on, anyway,' I continue, stammering. “I, this is just a little crush. On a therapist. I know there's no chance of reciprocation, not that I'm hitting on you, or anything, but I mean,”“There are a lot of assumptions you're making,” he interrupts. His gaze is intense, eyes so dark I can't tell where the pupil ends and iris begins.“Hmm?” My mouth dries.He counts off his fingers. “You assume I'm good at my job. You assume I'm not a creep, or a predator. You assume your fantasies are not reciprocated.”Whatever rapport we've built has evaporated. I feel numb, foggy. I'm distantly aware that I could be in danger, but I'm frozen to my seat as he stands, like I'm a rabbit caught in the jaws of a fox.“You have no idea what I'm capable of, do you?” he says, towering above me.My hands shake uncontrollably. “I don't understand?” I whisper. Surely, he won't...? There's no way, he wouldn't... not for me, surely?His smirk is lazy, predatory. “Stand,” he says, a strong command.I shrink into the chair. This can't be happening. I refuse to believe it.“Stand,” he repeats, and there's an irresistible dominance to his voice.What can I do but obey? I wobble to my feet like a newborn deer, and his hand clamps around my throat. I choke out a pitiful little gasp. He walks me backward until my spine hits the wall. I'm trapped.“What are you doing?” I whimper, my voice high and pathetic with the way he squeezes.His laugh is unkind, humorless. “What do you think I'm doing? I'm giving you what you want.” His voice is baritone and gravelly, a lion's purr, and his breath comes out hot on my face. I shiver. “Don't tell me you haven't touched yourself to the thought of this,” he says.He's not wrong.With the hand that isn't around my neck, he snakes his way into my jeans. Deftly his fingers find their way under the fabric of my underwear, and to my shame and horror, they caress the moisture building beneath my folds.“So wet, already?” he whispers, “It's disgusting, how badly you want me.” The words are harsh but they betray a smug satisfaction, and it sends a heat surging through me.His grin widens as he palms my aching vulva. I don't mean to, but my hips buck into him, and he chuckles.“Don't worry, I'll give you what you want.'“No, no...” I shake my head and whimper as his finger plunges inside me. I don't want this, I don't. It was just a fantasy, it was never meant to be real, and I never thought he would, but he hooks his index inside, grazing the pad against my front wall, and the moan that slips from my mouth is obscene.The hand around my neck suddenly slaps over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up,' he hisses, but he doesn't stop, and can't contain the moan that muffles into his palm as he fucks his fingers inside me.“Fuck,” he groans, “can you hear how wet you are? How sloppy you are?” His beard scratches at the sensitive skin of my jaw. “So pathetic and needy, a pathetic little whore.'His palm is wet over my face, and I realize I'm drooling.“Pathetic little whore,” he repeats, wiping my spit on my face. My legs inch wider and I hear the indecent sloshing of my arousal beneath his hand. “Bet you get off thinking about this after each session, don't you? Horny little thing. You'd beg for it, wouldn't you? Beg me to rape you?'I try to shake my head, but the hand over my face grips too tight. My thighs start to shake, and I can feel my wetness leaking, dripping down the top of my thighs, gooey and disgusting, just like me.“Tell me you would. Beg me.” His voice is so harsh, but it's so hot the way he's degrading me like this, and I'm slipping further and further off the edge. Tears spill down my cheeks as I shake my head. I do want to beg him, beg him to stop, but despite it all I can myself approaching the edge. The heat builds in my belly, thighs clenching his hand in a vice as they shudder and quake, and I'm so, so close, and I don't want him to stop, and I hate myself for it.“Oh no, oh no you don't,” he says, “You're not going to come already, are you? Fuck, you're more desperate than I thought.” His movements roughen, adding another finger, fucking into me relentlessly. “Don't do it, don't you fucking do it, you're not allowed to come, you're not allowed to enjoy this, you disgusting slut, “He's whispering hotly into my neck, like an open-mouthed kiss, and it's too late. I hurtle over the edge, falling apart, mouth open and drooling as I come undone on his fingers.He steps back. “Disgusting,” he says.I whimper and slide to the floor, red-faced and sweaty. I curl myself into a fetal position. I am disgusting. Nausea churns in my gut, and the room swims in front of my eyes.He squats beside me. His hand, the one which was inside me just a moment ago, wipes my wetness over my face, smudging my slime over my lips. He pushes his fingers inside my mouth, making me taste myself, then takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him through half-lidded eyes.“Such a slut. You can't be anything more than a worthless whore, can you?” He tosses me aside and stands. “Get on your knees.”Before I know it, I'm doing as he says, sitting back on my heels as he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. I barely have a moment to breathe before his hand is fisting my hair at the nape of my neck and urging me onto his cock, shoving me down as far as I can go, until it slams against the back of my throat. I have to hold onto his muscular thighs for balance, the way he roughly drives into my open, slobbering mouth.Above me, his mouth hangs open, breathing heavy. A flush spreads across his cheeks, and his brows furrow.'What would your friends say, if they could see you like this?” he growls. “Debased like this? If they could see the pathetic whore you really are? Would they laugh at you, knowing how much you love being face-fucked like this?'My eyes roll back in my head and I sob, my mouth stretched around him. Rivulets of saliva dribble down my chin, my neck, between my breasts, which jiggle from the force of his thrusts.He makes a rough sound at the back of his throat. “Fuck... Would they use you like I am? Would they want a turn to ruin you? Fuck your pretty little mouth like I am? You wouldn't stop them, just let them take what they want, just like I'm taking what I want from you, oh, you're so good at taking my cock, “He pulls out and I gasp for air, gulping raspy breaths. I fall back, hands catching myself on the carpet as I try to recover, but before I can, he's positioning himself behind me, manhandling me so I'm on my hands and knees, face pressed against the carpet, ass presented to him like an offering.No preamble, no warning, he slams himself deep into me. The sound he makes, a feral and debauched groan, might be the hottest thing I've ever heard. It's equal parts primal and hedonic, all pretense of keeping quiet long forgotten. His blunt nails dig into the soft flesh of my hips as he drives himself into me, over and over and over.It's animalistic and it's savage, the vulgar slapping of his balls against my skin, the sweat and snot and tears and dribbling down my face, the wretched sobbing squeaks I make as he fucks me relentlessly. It is both endlessly hot and humiliating. There's the heat of shame curdling in my gut, how I shouldn't want this, it shouldn't feel so good. But then the way his strong hands tangle in my hair, pulling me, dragging me up against him; then the way he clamps his canines into my neck, the sharp painful pleasure of it; the way I know I couldn't fight him even if I tried. The way I am completely and utterly at his mercy; all of it has my thighs clenching and quivering as my second orgasm builds.“You're gonna come from this, huh? You close again, huh?” he pants in my ear. “This is what turns you on? Used like the worthless piece of meat you are?'I can't pretend. Sobbing, moaning, covered in drool and snot, I nod. “Uh huh. You can have me, you can use me. Have me however you want,” I whimper in my phlegmy voice. “You're so; oh; I'm so close; I'm gonna.'“Nope,” he says, suddenly pulling out of me, all at once leaving me empty and wanting. “You're not going to come again. You're mine to use, you're not allowed to like it too, you greedy little slut.” He rolls me over on my back, and, kneeling above me, strokes himself over my face. I open my mouth, tongue out, ready for him, while my fingers press against my aching clit, desperately clutching at the remnants of my ruined orgasm.“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, “slimy, disgusting little slut. Fuck, you're so perfect.” He continues to mumble words both degrading and flattering until, with a final moan, his come spills over my tongue, hot and salty. As his spend drips down my flushed face, my hips gyrate into my hands and I spill over, too. My second orgasm is a weak, ruined shadow of the first, empty of my therapist but full of disgrace. I feel thoroughly debased. Disgusting. Glazed with spunk, a husk of a woman.The air is hot and thick with sex. There's a heavy ache in my center, a cold emptiness, as I stare up at the ceiling. I still don't believe what's just happened. There must be some mistake, some misunderstanding. Maybe I'm having a psychotic break. Maybe this is all in my head. Some fantasy turned foul.I can hear him re-buckling his belt and shuffling about at the desk, until he appears beside me, gently helping me sit upright. Tenderly he wipes the goo from my face with wet wipes, deep brown eyes searching mine. His dark curls are plastered to his face with sweat.“Nobody will know about this,” he says in a low voice. “You have my word. I know better than anyone how fragile you are, and how poorly you will handle anyone knowing how you threw yourself at me like that. Nobody will know what a greedy whore you really are. You can trust me.” The cruelty in his words are softened by how gentle he's being, softly caressing my shoulders as he wipes away the gunk from my skin.He's taking care of me.It's nice.He's a good person.He helps me to my feet. I shake like a lamb.“Anyway, our time is up.” He opens the door and ushers me out. “I'll see you next week.'The last I see of him is a predatory, vulpine grin, before the door clicks shut.Clinical PleasureKate visits Doctor Yang to treat her sexual dysfunctions.Based on a post by nymphic“Kate Williams?” calls the receptionist.At the sound of her name, a fair-complexioned young woman jerks her strawberry blonde head up. “Yes?”“Doctor Yang is ready to see you. Third door on the right.”Timidly, Kate walks up to Doctor Yang's office. She smooths her dress and takes a deep, shaky breath before entering.Doctor Yang looks to be in his mid-forties--black hair slicked back, greying at the temples. He's fit, with wide shoulders, and his shirt bunches around his elbows where the sleeves are rolled up, showing off well-defined forearms.He gives Kate a firm handshake before ushering her into the room. “Miss Williams, welcome, I'm Doctor Yang. Pull up a chair.”She perches primly on a chair of squeaky vinyl while he takes a seat behind his desk. There's an ancient, blocky computer taking up so much space on his desk, there's barely room left for the messy notes scattered about. Behind, a curtain half obscures an examination table. At the sight of it, trepidation bubbles in Kate's stomach.“What brings you in today?” the doctor asks.“Um.” She stares intently at the floor, unable to explain to this handsome doctor all of her sexual inadequacies.After the silence between them becomes sufficiently awkward, Doctor Yang takes pity on poor Kate, clearing his throat and shuffling his notes.“Look, it's normal to be nervous, but I assure you, I've heard it all before. This is a judgement free space, and I'm here to help you.” He looks at her with kind, dark eyes. “Whenever you're ready.”Kate fiddles with the hem of her sundress as she begins. “Well, I'm in a pretty new relationship right now, and. We're having intimacy issues.”“Intimacy issues,” says Doctor Yang. There's a distinct lack of judgement in his tone, which calms the anxiety in Kate's stomach. He's almost detached as he clack-clack-clacks the clunky keyboard. The behemoth computer buzzes and whirs away as he types. “Tell me more about the issues you've been having.”“My boyfriend and I; he's the one who urged me come here; are, well. We just started sleeping together. And I'm finding it quite difficult.” She bites her lip.“Difficult in what way?”Kate looks down at her sandals as she says, “I'm told sex ought to be pleasurable.”Doctor Yang chuckles, showing off deep dimples. “It's generally supposed to be, yes. That hasn't been your experience?”Kate shakes her head, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders. “No, not the times we've tried together. I just can't see how anything can... fit.” She can feel her face heating up. “Every time we try it's so uncomfortable for me. Sometimes it hurts. Plus, I've never been able to... get there. Not when we're together, at least.”Doctor Yang nods. “You know, many women your age have that experience too. It's completely normal.”“What? You mean this is just how it is?”She must look panic-stricken, because Doctor Yang immediately backtracks. “No, no! It shouldn't hurt, it should never hurt! What I mean to say is that this issue is more common than you realize, and it's definitely something I can help with.”She slumps back in the chair with relief, air whooshing from her lungs.“To get to the bottom of your problem, though,” Doctor Yang continues, “I'm going to ask a few personal questions. There will be no judgement from me, I just want you to answer honestly. Is that okay?” His face is open and friendly, and Kate trusts him, but what could he mean, personal questions? How much more personal can it get?“Sure,” she says, and if Doctor Yang notices her hesitation, he doesn't let on.

Dette er en smakebit fra da Karsten Blomvik var gjest hos Fetisha+1 på Podimo!Karsten Blomvik er i studio og han har ikke bare med seg en clickbait, men ekte breaking news! Fetisha har hatt en kattepasser fra helvete og får prøvd seg i vår egen versjon av "Alle mot 1". Er Solo og rødt hår alt som skal til for å kapre hjertet til Miss Williams?Om du ikke allerede har Podimo-abonnement, så kan du få 30 dagers gratis lytting ved å følge lenke: Podimo.com/fetisha

Ira and Louis discuss Lifetime's harrowing and possibly exploitative Wendy Williams documentary, Chez Diaz's firing from And Just Like That, Denis Villeneuve's thoughts on dialogue in film, Tyler Perry's use of AI, and the 20th anniversary of Love Angel Music Baby. Danai Gurira joins to discuss her new series The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live, balancing acting with playwriting, and more.Subscribe to Keep It on YouTube to catch full episodes, exclusive content, and other community events. Find us there at YouTube.com/@KeepItPodcast

As the final entry in this year's Black History Month episodes, my dear friend Previn Moore introduces his Listeners' Favorites choice, an episode I published in the early months of Countermelody back in the fall of 2019. It features two phenomenal Black sopranos whose friendship and mentorship Previn outlines in detail in an introductory interview I did with him at his home in Vienna this past week. This episode features the phenomenal, the legendary, the pathbreaking soprano Camilla Williams (1919-2012), whom Previn first met as a young tenor at Indiana University's School of Music, where Miss Williams was the first African American teacher of singing to serve on the faculty. While there, Previn also formed a lifelong friendship with Camilla's student, Janet Williams, who herself went on to a brilliant worldwide career, including twelve years as a leading soprano with the Staatsoper Unter den Linden here in Berlin. Janet and I met as fellow students in the Merola Opera Program of the San Francisco Opera and it has been my joy and a privilege to share a treasured friendship with her ever since. In tribute to both of these extraordinary sopranos, I offer a cache of rare studio recordings by Camilla Williams, supplemented by live material sung by Janet Williams from the artist's private archives. Included among the selections are excerpts from Camilla's rarely-heard album of spirituals on the MGM Records label, and a concert given by Janet Williams in her home town of Detroit in 1989, capped by a stunning rendition of Undine Smith Moore's arrangement of the spiritual “Watch and Pray,” dedicated to Camilla Williams. Many thanks to Previn, Janet, and the extraordinary Camilla Williams for their shining examples and for their dedicated artistry.

In this episode of Your Sign Says, host Kim Allen discusses the major planetary shifts happening at the start of the new year. She highlights the forward movement of Mercury and Jupiter, explaining how these shifts will bring clarity and abundance to various aspects of life. Kim then delves into the specific impact of Jupiter's movement on each zodiac sign, providing insights into areas such as income, spirituality, partnerships, and career growth. The episode concludes with a personal reading for a listener named Miss Williams, offering guidance on her love life. The recommended crystal of the week is orange calcite, symbolizing joy and manifestation.

Miss Williams is an Australian primary school teacher who uses her Instagram platform to share her experiences and knowledge of what has worked in the classroom for her so far. This is her third year teaching full-time in a Year 4 classroom.  We chat about: Her journey into teaching How her Instagram grew quite quickly The pressures of sharing on social media Her experiences in the classroom so far  What she loves and what she has found to be challenging Her top tips for new teachers Find Miss Williams on Instagram @_miss_williams_ Find Em @thegradguide_ www.thegradguide.com.au   FREE Connected Classroom Management Masterclass for PST's and New Teachers. REGISTER BELOW https://www.thegradguide.com.au/pl/2147692187 

  Hi! I'm Dr. Myrdalis Diaz-Ramirez. And, this is Episode #39! We have a very special guest! The #KillerPitchMaster, no other than Precious Williams from Perfect Pitches by Precious. We had a great conversation with Miss Williams about pitching for your life, killing it under any situation, and delivering immense value right from the gate. This episode is packed with great inspiration and tips from a true master of the art. Jump in and get energized! Engage with Precious Williams here:Website: perfectpitchesbyprecious.comMedia Site: perfectpitchgroup.comHer Books: perfectpitchesbyprecious.com/storeConsultation: perfectpitches.leadmomentum.com/powerpitchconsultsBlog: perfectpitchesbyprecious.com/blogPrecious Williams on Social Media:Facebook | Twitter | InstagramThank you for joining us this week!----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Follow Dr. Myrdalis Diaz at these links: Website: drmyrdalisdiaz.comPodcast: Design Your Physician LifeLinkedin: drmyrdalisFacebook: myrdalisdiazInstagram: drmyrdalisdiaz 

The children in Miss Williams class were going to the seaside in a coach. Alice and Millie were going together when something happened to make them late. Listen to find out what happened, which one stayed behind to help and missed the coach and what happened because she was kind.

In this episode of Miss Inclusivity … Stepping into Your Grad Year with Miss Wiliams Follow our Co-Host@_miss_williams_https://www.instagram.com/_miss_williams_/In this episode, we discuss:Wanting to be a teacher from the get go! Getting your foot in the door early at universitiesComparing the Younger Years to Older YearsIt is okay to have to re-teach yourself some of the content! Making the move to the TeacherGram Teaching Virtually How important those relationships you create are and how they flourish face-to-faceMaking Connections with Students in their HIGHS and LOWSLearning from your 'Mistakes'Learning on the spot with manners such as communication with parentsUsing your gut instinct - you know these kids the best! Finding a teaching position as a Grad Taking internships in your final year of UniPutting yourself out there and getting your foot in the door at schoolsHow to wrap your head around programmingFollow our PodcastMiss Inclusivity - The Podcasthttp://instagram.com/missinclusivityJoin the ConversationThis weeks Q&A will be live on @missinclusivity 's instagram.This weeks question is:Question: Explore my TPT!https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Store/Miss-Inclusivity

A complicated, song for an exquisite ,razor sharp beauty,ouch!check it out

It’s nine o’clock in the evening at the Blue Note Cafe,´ too early for the late crowd and the early crowd have gone home for dinner. The place is practically deserted when Casey and Miss Williams enter. Ethel Bert, proprietor of the Blue Note Cafe advised him that a dame ´ had been in looking for him. Duration: 28:17 Starring: Staats Cotsworth Broadcast Date: 6th November 1947

Welcome back, everyone! We've got a great episode for you all today! Today we get to talk about the Lakers 2nd round playoff matchup against the Houston Rockets. Drew and Cody give their opinion on how they believe the 2nd round will go. Will Houston's "small ball" style of play be enough to get past the Lakers? Or will AD & Lebron continue to dominate the playoffs? Next, we talk about the SF Giants being 2 games back of .500. We asked Will the Giants make the playoffs? With roughly 20 games left to go in the MLB shorten the season. Can the Giants make a playoff push and sneak in? Drew has also posted a new "One Giant Step" blog that talks about the Giants' bullpen issues! Do you think the Giants will make the playoffs? And of course, the NFL season is less than 2 weeks ago! Raiders placed Tyrell Williams on season-ending IR due to a shoulder injury. Will the Raiders miss Williams and do they have enough weapons to get through the season? Follow us on Social Media Instagram - @drewcodesportstalk Twitter - @drew_code Facebook.com/drewcodesportstalk Don't forget to visit drewcodesportstalk.com for more social media content and to listen to full episodes! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/drewcodesportstalk/support

From 2009: Think about seeing your life flashing before your eyes. Got the picture? Now think about Rick Fox’s life flashing before your eyes. First round NBA draft pick by the Boston Celtics in 1991.  Seven years—and three world championships—with the Los Angeles Lakers, playing elbow-to-elbow with Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant. Marriage to the most beautiful and most famous Miss America ever, Vanessa Williams. Fatherhood with the same Miss Williams, now a star on ABC’s “Ugly Betty."

Deniece Williams shared a #1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 chart with pop singer Johnny Mathis in 1978 with the duet “Too Much, Too Little, Too Late”. The duet also topped the Black Singles and Adult Contemporary charts. Williams also topped the dance charts with her disco single “I’ve Got the Next Dance”. Mathis and Williams also recorded the popular theme to the 1980s sitcom Family Ties, “Without Us”.Williams moved on to the American Recording Company (ARC) in the early 1980s where she scored the top ten R&B smash hit “Silly” in 1981. The following year, yet another famed producer, Thom Bell, helped Williams score another #1 R&B chart-topper with her remake of The Royalettes’ “It’s Gonna Take a Miracle,” which became a Top 10 pop hit as well, reaching #10.In 1984, Deniece released the album Let’s Hear It for the Boy, in which the title track reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and was featured on the soundtrack to Footloose. The song would prove to be the biggest pop hit of her career – and the last. She also contributed vocals, along with Maurice White, to the song “And Then” from Weather Report’s album Mr. Gone released in 1982. She continued releasing albums during the 1980s such as Hot On The Trail (1986), Water Under The Bridge (1987), and As Good As It Gets (1988), which featured her last Top Ten hit to date, “I Can’t Wait”, written by Skylark.Although Deniece had recorded one inspirational song on almost each of her albums, it was in 1980 that her musical career path began change toward one of her favorite things, Gospel music. She joined with friends Phillip Bailey (Earth, Wind and Fire fame), Billy Davis and Marilyn McCoo to present a gospel show at a popular Los Angeles club named The Roxy. The show was called “Jesus At the Roxy”. Deniece felt strongly about it saying, “God did something miraculous. Over three hundred people were saved”, as reported in an interview with Gospel Today Magazine. After that, both Bailey and Williams decided to pursue careers in Christian music.In 1983, Deniece and Bailey recorded “They Say”, an atmospheric, slow praise song that builds towards the end with rousing words of praise. The song was written by songwriters Skip Scarborough and Terri McFaddin and received airplay on both Urban and Gospel Black radio. Deniece later recorded the song with Christian artist Sandi Patti and won a Grammy for it. In 1984, Deniece sang a Gospel song at the 27th Annual Grammy Awards. She sang an acapella version of her 1977 composition “God Is Amazing”. In 1986, she would release her first full-length gospel album, “So Glad I Know” (Sparrow 1121; # 8-gospel) which brought her two Grammy awards.Deniece would continue to write, record and release Gospel music for the next several years. From 1996 to 2004, she presented her own BBC radio show in the UK, showcasing new gospel and inspirational music. During that time (1999) she recorded the Gospel album This Is My Song, which brought her another Grammy award for Best Pop/Contemporary Gospel Album.Deniece continues to work on countless projects and is still quite active in the music industry today. She has an incredible four-octave range and distinctive soprano voice. Her vocal range was also pointed out by The New York Times, “Miss Williams mounted a spectacular vocal display in which her penetrating, feline soprano soared effortlessly to E flat above high C, and she worked various vowel sounds into prolonged feats of vocal gymnastics”.In pointing to Deniece’s similar vocal ability as her former musical icon and colleague (Minnie Riperton), Mark Anthony Neal in referencing Jill Scott’s agility in displaying vocal acrobatics, states, “Scott draws on her upper register recalling the artistry of the late Minnie Riperton and “songbird” Deniece Williams”. According to Monica Haynes of Post-Gazette.com, “Williams has the kind of range that would make Mariah Carey quiver”! View the Deniece Williams Discography here. Also be sure to view Other Artists Who Have Sampled Ms. Williams Work – click here.

Host: Matt Birnholz, MD New rules issued by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services are providing physicians with a smoother transition to the Quality Payment Program, or QPP. One critical part of this support involves technical assistance programs, which provide information and resources to physicians during and after this transition. Host Dr. Matt Birnholz talks with Dr. Edward Sobel and Ms. Temaka Williams about what technical assistance is available to physicians navigating the quality payment program. Dr. Sobel is the Medical Director at Quality Insights,which is based in Charleston, WV, while Miss Williams is a Health Information Technology Advisor at Telligen Oak Brook, Illinois.

Host: Matt Birnholz, MD New rules issued by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services are providing physicians with a smoother transition to the Quality Payment Program, or QPP. One critical part of this support involves technical assistance programs, which provide information and resources to physicians during and after this transition. Host Dr. Matt Birnholz talks with Dr. Edward Sobel and Ms. Temaka Williams about what technical assistance is available to physicians navigating the quality payment program. Dr. Sobel is the Medical Director at Quality Insights,which is based in Charleston, WV, while Miss Williams is a Health Information Technology Advisor at Telligen Oak Brook, Illinois.

Host: Matt Birnholz, MD New rules issued by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services are providing physicians with a smoother transition to the Quality Payment Program, or QPP. One critical part of this support involves technical assistance programs, which provide information and resources to physicians during and after this transition. Host Dr. Matt Birnholz talks with Dr. Edward Sobel and Ms. Temaka Williams about what technical assistance is available to physicians navigating the quality payment program. Dr. Sobel is the Medical Director at Quality Insights,which is based in Charleston, WV, while Miss Williams is a Health Information Technology Advisor at Telligen Oak Brook, Illinois.

Host: Matt Birnholz, MD New rules issued by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services are providing physicians with a smoother transition to the Quality Payment Program, or QPP. One critical part of this support involves technical assistance programs, which provide information and resources to physicians during and after this transition. Host Dr. Matt Birnholz talks with Dr. Edward Sobel and Ms. Temaka Williams about what technical assistance is available to physicians navigating the quality payment program. Dr. Sobel is the Medical Director at Quality Insights,which is based in Charleston, WV, while Miss Williams is a Health Information Technology Advisor at Telligen Oak Brook, Illinois.

THE PURSUIT OF WORLD DISRUPTION This week I have on the show the smart, stunning and all round epic human - Taryn Williams. Taryn is the definition of a game changer in the world of entrepreneurs and business. She speaks on the subjects with an ease of flow and wisdom of someone well beyond her years. Taryn started her first company, WINK Models, barely out of her teens and has now grown to become a powerhouse in the Australian Start Up Space. Not satisfied being stagnant, Taryn is 18 months into her second ALL IN venture, the industry disrupting two sided market place - THE RIGHT. FIT. Miss Williams provides listeners with a refreshingly ruthless aspect to what it takes to be an entrepreneur. We cover subjects from mentors, to hiring and firing, as well as plenty of insight into the inner thoughts and conversations Taryn has with herself that lead her to living this life of adrenaline seeking start-ups. Taryn's specific essay question was: "Entrepreneurship is tough. It takes a particular kind of human to even think of beginning their own company, and it takes a special tolerance for torture to want to start that business in the industry of Model and Talent management. You didn’t only do it once, but twice, starting The Right. Fit almost a decade after, and in what has been described as competition to, your first company WINK Models. As a serial entrepreneur, how do you decide the time is right to keep going, pivot, quit or start-afresh?" I left this conversation with a renewed energy to get out there and get it done. No doubt you will get plenty out of this podcast too. www: theright.fit | winkmodels.com.au | tarynwilliams.com.au IG: @tarynwilliams | @theright.fit | @winkmodels Li: Taryn Williams   www: wordswithoz.com IG: @wordswithoz   Enjoy the Show.   Show Notes 00.00 : 01.17 - Intro & Adverts 01.18 : 02.30 - WWO Intro 02.31 : 05.26 - Banter & Intros 05.27 : 08.55 - Breaking New Ground - Disrupting an Industry 08.56 : 10.06 - Taryn's Background 10.07 : 13.14 - Sourcing Help 13.15 : 17.00 - My First Born - Work vs. Family 17.01 : 19.46 - Realising 'I think different' 19.47 : 22.12 - Why do people back you? 22.13 : 24.50 - What drives Taryn? 24.51 : 26.38 - Will Taryn ever be 'done'? 26.39 : 28.31 - Daily Routines 28.32 : 32.06 - Essay Question 32.07 : 35.01 - finding balance... 35.02 : 35.32 - School Morning Mantra 35.31 : 37.57 - Balancing Social Media and Self Worth 37.58 : 40.40 - Inspiration 40.41 : 43.06 - Grit 43.07 : 45.56 - The Book 45.57 : 47.28 - Oz' Take Aways 47.29 : 47.54 - Taryn's Ambition 47.55 : 49.01 - Wrap Up & Thank you