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-          The Draft coverage continues, the fellas talk more Playoff basketball. They question who will rise to the occasion the Nuggets in game 4. Who will be the head coach going forward for Denver?

Forsaking Her Own MercyIn 3 parts, By SDes. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ·        “They that observe lying vanities, forsake their own mercy.” Jonah 2:8As he sat in the waiting room, Jeff tried to keep some spark of hope alive. Sarah obviously had feelings for him. The way she returned his kiss left no doubt about that. The problem was getting past the wall she had built up over the years. She had evidently made up her mind that she would be better off without him, or maybe she thought he would be better off without her. Either way, he resolved to not give up without a fight.A pleasant looking young woman sitting behind a desk caught his attention. "Doctor Wolcott will see you now."Jeff walked through the door and the doctor rose to greet him. "Jeff, you are looking well, how can I help you.""Paige told me to talk to you. She said you helped Sarah through her recovery and have stayed close with her over the years."The doctor frowned, "Jeff, I can't talk to you about what I discussed with a patient. You understand that, right?"Jeff met the doctor's gaze firmly. "I'm not asking you to betray any privilege, but I need to find some way to get through to Sarah. If you're as close to her as Paige said, you have to have an idea of how to help me. She hasn't been your patient for years. There has to be something you can tell me. I am crazy about her and from what her family says, she feels the same way about me. She just won't give me the chance to get close to her."Dr. Wolcott sat quietly, trying to choose his words carefully. "Well, I can talk to you in general about the way trauma victims feel. The victim of a sexual assault can have a wide variety of reactions. Some become insatiable with their desires, trying to fill a void in their emotions with the act of sex. Some even crave degrading acts because they feel unworthy of anything better.""Some," and he paused looking directly at Jeff to indicate his meaning without saying it aloud, "retreat into themselves. They are afraid of being rejected to the point of making themselves miserable rather than risk being hurt. Some part of their behavior can be attributed to the guilt they feel.""Guilt?" Jeff asked uncertainly. "How could she; they feel guilty about something they couldn't control?""Control is a matter of perspective, son. In some victim's minds, they continue to question if they made all the right choices. If they had done something differently, could they have avoided what happened? Everyone in their life is exposed to their trauma, so sometimes they feel like they're responsible for everyone's pain, in a way. This is incredibly difficult to cope with, and it's why therapy can be so important.""In Sarah's case, she has a permanent reminder of the event because of her scar. Every time she meets someone new, she knows the first thing they notice is something that is tied into the most traumatic event of her life. To be honest, I think she uses it as an excuse to keep men at a distance. She hates it, but it's also part of her defenses.""Okay," Jeff responded, "so that explains why she hasn't dated much, but what about me. She already knows I care about her and that she cares about me. What happened to her doesn't change the way I feel about her, I already know the real Sarah and she's wonderful."The doctor nodded his agreement. "She is a remarkable young woman, but in a way, you are more of a threat to her than anyone." He paused as Jeff shot him a confused look. "She knows you had feelings for her before you found out about her past. Now that you know, I'm sure she's afraid you might reject her. She's probably also worried about you being too nice to walk away, even though you might want to. I wouldn't be surprised at all if she has talked herself into believing that your pursuit is based on pity, which would be even more devastating to her.""So let me get this straight," Jeff said, starting to get angry. "If I blow her off, it's because I'm a jerk. If I try to get her to see me, it's because I'm still a jerk, but don't want to look like a bad guy? How the hell do I deal with that?""Exactly," Dr. Wolcott answered cryptically. "How do you deal with that?""Great, now you sound like a shrink," Jeff answered, clearly frustrated."Jeff, I can't tell you any magic words to make things better. If I knew them, I would have used them with her seven years ago. She is such a special young woman that it kills me to not be able to help her. I watch her every week, wondering if there is something I could think of; "With a swift movement, Jeff's head jerked up to look at the doctor. "What do you mean, every week?"This time it was the doctor's turn to look confused. "She volunteers here every Monday and Friday in the children's ward. She has for years. I would have thought her family would have told you that."He was surprised by Jeff abruptly rising and heading for the door. "Sorry doc, I've got to go."The children Prevail on SarahSarah walked into the hospital lost in her thoughts. It was the first time back since her last night with Jeff. She had missed three of her volunteer dates in a row and wasn't going to miss another, no matter what. Some days it was like the kids were her reason for getting out of bed. People often complimented her on how caring she was, spending time with sick children. The truth was, her time with the kids did as much for her as it did for them.She had taken two days off work after her encounter with Jeff. It was so unsettling that she had no idea how to begin to deal with it yet. Part of her wished he had never come looking for her because of all the emotions it had stirred up. Part of her wished he wouldn't have left. She sat by the window of her apartment for hours, hoping he'd come back, wondering if she could have forced herself to talk to him. Jeff was a very good man, this was incredibly unfair to him and she knew it. How could he have any idea what she wanted when she didn't know herself?Paige had tried to help, but Sarah had been angry with her sister for interfering and let her know it. She knew Jeff would find out her secrets eventually, but Paige had related the details from last Tuesday's conversation. Her sister had given up far too much information, then tried to defend it by telling Sarah how much Jeff cared."It doesn't matter. It's my life not yours!" she had said heatedly.Although Paige had called every day, Sarah refused to talk to her. She loved her sister and knew Paige meant well, but this wasn't the kind of situation that called for an 18-year-old who thought she knew everything. As she walked down the hallway, Sarah thought again about what her younger sister had been through and what could have happened.She shook her head as she approached the door. I've got to call her tonight and apologize, she thought. She loves me and is just trying to do what she thinks is right. Sarah even flirted with the idea of calling Jeff to apologize. She just couldn't imagine what she could say.As she entered the rec room, she knew immediately something was going on. The kids were standing around with conspiratorial looks on their faces. She put it out of her mind as several of the younger ones ran up to her."Sarah," cried Jessie, a little girl who was her favorite. She had been injured in a fire and even after several skin grafts, still had terrible scars. Jessie's mom had told Sarah how much her visits had meant because the little girl identified with the caring woman who had her own scar.She hugged Jessie and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "How are you, little angel?""Good," said the seven year-old. "I missed you. Where have you been?""I'm so sorry I missed the last few visits. I wasn't feeling very well. I'm better now, so I promise I won't miss any more, all right?"Jessie smiled and said mischievously, Okay, but you owe me a promise."Sarah looked at her with an amused expression. Okay Jessie, I owe you a promise.""Anything I want?""Yes, I promise, anything you ask me." She laughed at Jessie's persistence. She expected to be making a trip to the cafeteria for a candy bar any second now."Well," said the child shyly, "one of the boys here likes you." Sarah looked around the room quickly, noticing flowers on one of the tables. "He was scared to tell you, so he bought you flowers and asked me to do it because we're friends. He wants a kiss from you and wants to tell you something. Remember, you promised."Sarah was on the verge of laughing over the precocious child's demands. She tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to hurt any of the boys' feelings. The oldest child in the room looked to be eleven or twelve. It would be terrible to make any of them feel like she was making fun of them."Yes Jessie, I promise I'll give him a kiss for the nice flowers and I'll talk to him. So who is it?" she asked, still looking around the room.Jessie smiled wide, and pointed behind Sarah. "It's him," she yelled, jumping up and down; excited to have succeeded at her mission.Sarah turned and felt her knees go weak as she saw Jeff standing with a bouquet of her favorite roses."Hi Sarah, how about that kiss?" he said as all the kids began cheering.She blushed as she looked around in embarrassment. She saw Jessie smiling with glee and knew she had no way out.Sarah watched motionless as Jeff walked up to her. "You tricked me," she hissed."You didn't give me any choice. Now are you going to let the kids down or are you going to kiss me?"She leaned forward to give him a peck on the lips, but he caught her and pulled her against him. He kept his lips pressed against hers, tilting his head so he could kiss her more deeply. She felt herself losing control again, just like at the grocery store when the loud, "Oh," of the children broke them out of their moment."That was nice," Jeff said in awe."Yes," Sarah replied, still struggling to hold her emotions in check. "That just leaves the talk.""We can talk later. Right now I have a lot of troublemakers to thank." He turned away from her and gave Jessie a hug and a kiss on the cheek.Sarah watched him, feeling caught in a whirlwind. As she watched him playing with the children, seemingly without a care in the world, she thought again about how amazing he was. She knew how strongly she felt for him, but didn't know how to begin to gauge his feelings for her. She had spent such a long time building the wall to protect herself, she wondered if it was possible to let down her guard and trust someone. The one thing she was sure of was that if there was anyone she would ever be able to trust, it would be this man.A Battle within Sarah's heartSarah drove, unable to organize her thoughts. Seven years of protecting herself and not allowing anyone inside had left her unprepared to change. It scared her more than she could face. Jeff already had the power to hurt her more than any man since the attack. If she let him in further, she couldn't imagine how intense it would get.This is crazy, I've only known him four weeks, she thought. Twice she had talked herself out of going to his place, but couldn't seem to make herself dial the phone. It was like the scene at her apartment, but reversed. Now she was afraid something would happen and he would change his mind. It was a fear she wasn't used to and it hit her hard.She found a parking space close to his apartment and reluctantly got out of her car. As she slowly walked to the door, Sarah nervously fidgeted with her hair and clothes, trying to make sure she looked her best before he answered the door.When he opened the door, Jeff looked at her with open admiration. "Wow, you look amazing."Sarah felt embarrassed, but accepted the compliment. Jeff asked her to come inside and offered her a seat on the couch. He went to the kitchen for drinks, then sat next to her. He suddenly was at a loss about what to say, so they sipped their wine in an awkward silence. Finally Sarah couldn't take it and spoke up, her voice sounding surprisingly brittle."So how did you work that out today? I didn't realize working with kids was one of your specialties. That was kind of a dirty trick."Jeff replied evenly, "I told you before, you didn't give me any choice. I'm not going to apologize. I would have done anything to get you to talk to me. Are you upset?""No," she admitted, unable to suppress a smile. "I thought it was; original. How did you know about me working with the kids?""I'm not going to tell you all my secrets," he replied cryptically. His mood abruptly lightened. "I've been spending all my free time with them since Tuesday. I was surprised. It was a lot of fun and they seemed to like me too. When I told them about my plan, they all wanted to help, especially Jessie. You're really close to her, aren't you?"She nodded, "How did you like your new start?" When she saw Jeff's confused expression, she continued. "You told me in the hospital that you wanted to do something more important with your life. I can't think of anything more important than caring for those kids, even if you did it with an ulterior motive.""Well, I had a great time with them. I'll be happy to go with you every week," he paused, "if you want me to."Sarah nodded, feeling more comfortable. "Listen Jeff, I have to apologize about not coming to the hospital at the end. I didn't know how to handle what would happen when you could see again, so I ran away." She looked away, "I guess I've been doing that for a while."He took her hand. "So my question is, are you ready to stop running? I don't want to push you to talk about anything until you're ready, but I want you to know you can trust me. I don't know what else I can do to make you see that I'm right where I want to be and I'm not going anywhere."Sarah sat quietly for a moment. "I can think of one thing," she said quietly, unable to look him in the eyes. "That night at the hospital, I did something I've never even considered doing before. It made me want more." He could hear her voice start to break. "The only memory I have about sex was a terrible one. I want to have good a memory with someone I care about."Jeff put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so he could look her in the eyes. "Sarah, I don't just care about you, I love you."He moved in to touch his lips against hers. He kissed her lightly, moving his lips across her cheek, her ear, then her neck. Finally, he returned to her lips, kissing her more passionately. He felt her lips part and gently began teasing them with his tongue, encouraging her to reciprocate. As his fingers gently caressed her cheek, his thumb softly traced the scar, causing her to blush. She pushed at his hand, uncomfortable with the contact.He broke their kiss, and began leaving a trail of kisses along the only blemish to her features, trying to let her know he wasn't going to avoid it. After a moment, she gave up protesting and allowed him to proceed the way he wanted. When his hand moved from her face to her side, eventually rubbing the side of her breast through her blouse, she made a small involuntarily jump.Jeff hesitated, reminding himself to be careful with her. "Let's go to my room, Ok?"Sarah nodded her consent and followed as he led her down the hallway. When they reached his bedroom, he watched her reactions closely. She still appeared to be nervous, although she tried to appear confident.They sat on the edge of the bed and resumed kissing for several minutes. Jeff ran his hands softly up and down her back, the touches slowly wearing down her anxiousness. When he thought she was ready, Jeff kneeled on the floor in front of her and began unbuttoning her blouse.Sarah felt confused, she was uneasy, but every time his hands touched her shirt they would graze her breasts, causing a fluttering deep in her stomach that was building. She felt the button just above her bra give way and Jeff leaned in to kiss her between her breasts. She arched her back as she felt his lips touch her like no man ever had. Although he was clean shaven, she could feel the stubble on his chin rubbing against her sensitive skin. She was so lost in the sensation, she didn't notice he had finished with her buttons, only realizing how exposed she was as he pulled her blouse from her jeans.She felt the nervousness giving way to the excitement he was causing. He gently caressed her over her bra. Sarah took a sudden, deep breath as she felt the front clasp give way and the material slide across her sensitive nipples. She pulled him close, thrilling at his warmth.That immediately gave way to frustration when he briefly grazed her breast again with his lips, only to skip down to her stomach. He gently pushed her back until she was lying flat on the bed, then ran his hands down her legs until he reached her feet. He quickly pulled off her shoes before moving back up to her jeans.Jeff paused for a moment, letting his hands run up and down the outside of her thighs. He reveled in her reactions to his touch. For a moment, he stopped worrying about what she might be thinking and realized just how lucky he was to be with an angel like this. The fact that she still was partially dressed added to her allure. He ran his hands over her stomach, settling on the snap of her jeans, which gave way with a pop that startled her causing another small jump. He again reminded himself to go slowly until she was ready.He moved to her stomach, kissing and running his tongue teasingly around her navel to distract her. It caused her discomfort to grow until it felt like she was riding a roller coaster. It didn't keep her from noticing his hands working on her zipper. She felt it begin to slowly creep down, imagining she could hear every metal tooth click as his fingers worked the slider down. When he grabbed her jeans with both hands and began inching them down her hips, she nervously lifted slightly off of the bed to help.She could feel her anxiety growing, thinking about him looking at her in just her panties. Sarah knew she was already wet, she could feel her underwear sticking to her outer lips and felt a little awkward. Even though she wanted this more than ever, part of her was glad he hadn't tried to undress her completely.When Jeff pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, he urged her to turn onto her stomach. Moving his lips up her legs, he used his tongue to leave wet kisses up her calves. Reaching her knee, he lingered at the sensitive spot, watching her tense and grab at the bed sheet with her hands. After a moment, he worked his way up the inside of her thigh, tenderly kissing every inch and began to feel her shake.&

Forsaking Her Own MercyIn 3 parts, By SDes. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ·        “They that observe lying vanities, forsake their own mercy.” Jonah 2:8As he sat in the waiting room, Jeff tried to keep some spark of hope alive. Sarah obviously had feelings for him. The way she returned his kiss left no doubt about that. The problem was getting past the wall she had built up over the years. She had evidently made up her mind that she would be better off without him, or maybe she thought he would be better off without her. Either way, he resolved to not give up without a fight.A pleasant looking young woman sitting behind a desk caught his attention. "Doctor Wolcott will see you now."Jeff walked through the door and the doctor rose to greet him. "Jeff, you are looking well, how can I help you.""Paige told me to talk to you. She said you helped Sarah through her recovery and have stayed close with her over the years."The doctor frowned, "Jeff, I can't talk to you about what I discussed with a patient. You understand that, right?"Jeff met the doctor's gaze firmly. "I'm not asking you to betray any privilege, but I need to find some way to get through to Sarah. If you're as close to her as Paige said, you have to have an idea of how to help me. She hasn't been your patient for years. There has to be something you can tell me. I am crazy about her and from what her family says, she feels the same way about me. She just won't give me the chance to get close to her."Dr. Wolcott sat quietly, trying to choose his words carefully. "Well, I can talk to you in general about the way trauma victims feel. The victim of a sexual assault can have a wide variety of reactions. Some become insatiable with their desires, trying to fill a void in their emotions with the act of sex. Some even crave degrading acts because they feel unworthy of anything better.""Some," and he paused looking directly at Jeff to indicate his meaning without saying it aloud, "retreat into themselves. They are afraid of being rejected to the point of making themselves miserable rather than risk being hurt. Some part of their behavior can be attributed to the guilt they feel.""Guilt?" Jeff asked uncertainly. "How could she; they feel guilty about something they couldn't control?""Control is a matter of perspective, son. In some victim's minds, they continue to question if they made all the right choices. If they had done something differently, could they have avoided what happened? Everyone in their life is exposed to their trauma, so sometimes they feel like they're responsible for everyone's pain, in a way. This is incredibly difficult to cope with, and it's why therapy can be so important.""In Sarah's case, she has a permanent reminder of the event because of her scar. Every time she meets someone new, she knows the first thing they notice is something that is tied into the most traumatic event of her life. To be honest, I think she uses it as an excuse to keep men at a distance. She hates it, but it's also part of her defenses.""Okay," Jeff responded, "so that explains why she hasn't dated much, but what about me. She already knows I care about her and that she cares about me. What happened to her doesn't change the way I feel about her, I already know the real Sarah and she's wonderful."The doctor nodded his agreement. "She is a remarkable young woman, but in a way, you are more of a threat to her than anyone." He paused as Jeff shot him a confused look. "She knows you had feelings for her before you found out about her past. Now that you know, I'm sure she's afraid you might reject her. She's probably also worried about you being too nice to walk away, even though you might want to. I wouldn't be surprised at all if she has talked herself into believing that your pursuit is based on pity, which would be even more devastating to her.""So let me get this straight," Jeff said, starting to get angry. "If I blow her off, it's because I'm a jerk. If I try to get her to see me, it's because I'm still a jerk, but don't want to look like a bad guy? How the hell do I deal with that?""Exactly," Dr. Wolcott answered cryptically. "How do you deal with that?""Great, now you sound like a shrink," Jeff answered, clearly frustrated."Jeff, I can't tell you any magic words to make things better. If I knew them, I would have used them with her seven years ago. She is such a special young woman that it kills me to not be able to help her. I watch her every week, wondering if there is something I could think of; "With a swift movement, Jeff's head jerked up to look at the doctor. "What do you mean, every week?"This time it was the doctor's turn to look confused. "She volunteers here every Monday and Friday in the children's ward. She has for years. I would have thought her family would have told you that."He was surprised by Jeff abruptly rising and heading for the door. "Sorry doc, I've got to go."The children Prevail on SarahSarah walked into the hospital lost in her thoughts. It was the first time back since her last night with Jeff. She had missed three of her volunteer dates in a row and wasn't going to miss another, no matter what. Some days it was like the kids were her reason for getting out of bed. People often complimented her on how caring she was, spending time with sick children. The truth was, her time with the kids did as much for her as it did for them.She had taken two days off work after her encounter with Jeff. It was so unsettling that she had no idea how to begin to deal with it yet. Part of her wished he had never come looking for her because of all the emotions it had stirred up. Part of her wished he wouldn't have left. She sat by the window of her apartment for hours, hoping he'd come back, wondering if she could have forced herself to talk to him. Jeff was a very good man, this was incredibly unfair to him and she knew it. How could he have any idea what she wanted when she didn't know herself?Paige had tried to help, but Sarah had been angry with her sister for interfering and let her know it. She knew Jeff would find out her secrets eventually, but Paige had related the details from last Tuesday's conversation. Her sister had given up far too much information, then tried to defend it by telling Sarah how much Jeff cared."It doesn't matter. It's my life not yours!" she had said heatedly.Although Paige had called every day, Sarah refused to talk to her. She loved her sister and knew Paige meant well, but this wasn't the kind of situation that called for an 18-year-old who thought she knew everything. As she walked down the hallway, Sarah thought again about what her younger sister had been through and what could have happened.She shook her head as she approached the door. I've got to call her tonight and apologize, she thought. She loves me and is just trying to do what she thinks is right. Sarah even flirted with the idea of calling Jeff to apologize. She just couldn't imagine what she could say.As she entered the rec room, she knew immediately something was going on. The kids were standing around with conspiratorial looks on their faces. She put it out of her mind as several of the younger ones ran up to her."Sarah," cried Jessie, a little girl who was her favorite. She had been injured in a fire and even after several skin grafts, still had terrible scars. Jessie's mom had told Sarah how much her visits had meant because the little girl identified with the caring woman who had her own scar.She hugged Jessie and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "How are you, little angel?""Good," said the seven year-old. "I missed you. Where have you been?""I'm so sorry I missed the last few visits. I wasn't feeling very well. I'm better now, so I promise I won't miss any more, all right?"Jessie smiled and said mischievously, Okay, but you owe me a promise."Sarah looked at her with an amused expression. Okay Jessie, I owe you a promise.""Anything I want?""Yes, I promise, anything you ask me." She laughed at Jessie's persistence. She expected to be making a trip to the cafeteria for a candy bar any second now."Well," said the child shyly, "one of the boys here likes you." Sarah looked around the room quickly, noticing flowers on one of the tables. "He was scared to tell you, so he bought you flowers and asked me to do it because we're friends. He wants a kiss from you and wants to tell you something. Remember, you promised."Sarah was on the verge of laughing over the precocious child's demands. She tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to hurt any of the boys' feelings. The oldest child in the room looked to be eleven or twelve. It would be terrible to make any of them feel like she was making fun of them."Yes Jessie, I promise I'll give him a kiss for the nice flowers and I'll talk to him. So who is it?" she asked, still looking around the room.Jessie smiled wide, and pointed behind Sarah. "It's him," she yelled, jumping up and down; excited to have succeeded at her mission.Sarah turned and felt her knees go weak as she saw Jeff standing with a bouquet of her favorite roses."Hi Sarah, how about that kiss?" he said as all the kids began cheering.She blushed as she looked around in embarrassment. She saw Jessie smiling with glee and knew she had no way out.Sarah watched motionless as Jeff walked up to her. "You tricked me," she hissed."You didn't give me any choice. Now are you going to let the kids down or are you going to kiss me?"She leaned forward to give him a peck on the lips, but he caught her and pulled her against him. He kept his lips pressed against hers, tilting his head so he could kiss her more deeply. She felt herself losing control again, just like at the grocery store when the loud, "Oh," of the children broke them out of their moment."That was nice," Jeff said in awe."Yes," Sarah replied, still struggling to hold her emotions in check. "That just leaves the talk.""We can talk later. Right now I have a lot of troublemakers to thank." He turned away from her and gave Jessie a hug and a kiss on the cheek.Sarah watched him, feeling caught in a whirlwind. As she watched him playing with the children, seemingly without a care in the world, she thought again about how amazing he was. She knew how strongly she felt for him, but didn't know how to begin to gauge his feelings for her. She had spent such a long time building the wall to protect herself, she wondered if it was possible to let down her guard and trust someone. The one thing she was sure of was that if there was anyone she would ever be able to trust, it would be this man.A Battle within Sarah's heartSarah drove, unable to organize her thoughts. Seven years of protecting herself and not allowing anyone inside had left her unprepared to change. It scared her more than she could face. Jeff already had the power to hurt her more than any man since the attack. If she let him in further, she couldn't imagine how intense it would get.This is crazy, I've only known him four weeks, she thought. Twice she had talked herself out of going to his place, but couldn't seem to make herself dial the phone. It was like the scene at her apartment, but reversed. Now she was afraid something would happen and he would change his mind. It was a fear she wasn't used to and it hit her hard.She found a parking space close to his apartment and reluctantly got out of her car. As she slowly walked to the door, Sarah nervously fidgeted with her hair and clothes, trying to make sure she looked her best before he answered the door.When he opened the door, Jeff looked at her with open admiration. "Wow, you look amazing."Sarah felt embarrassed, but accepted the compliment. Jeff asked her to come inside and offered her a seat on the couch. He went to the kitchen for drinks, then sat next to her. He suddenly was at a loss about what to say, so they sipped their wine in an awkward silence. Finally Sarah couldn't take it and spoke up, her voice sounding surprisingly brittle."So how did you work that out today? I didn't realize working with kids was one of your specialties. That was kind of a dirty trick."Jeff replied evenly, "I told you before, you didn't give me any choice. I'm not going to apologize. I would have done anything to get you to talk to me. Are you upset?""No," she admitted, unable to suppress a smile. "I thought it was; original. How did you know about me working with the kids?""I'm not going to tell you all my secrets," he replied cryptically. His mood abruptly lightened. "I've been spending all my free time with them since Tuesday. I was surprised. It was a lot of fun and they seemed to like me too. When I told them about my plan, they all wanted to help, especially Jessie. You're really close to her, aren't you?"She nodded, "How did you like your new start?" When she saw Jeff's confused expression, she continued. "You told me in the hospital that you wanted to do something more important with your life. I can't think of anything more important than caring for those kids, even if you did it with an ulterior motive.""Well, I had a great time with them. I'll be happy to go with you every week," he paused, "if you want me to."Sarah nodded, feeling more comfortable. "Listen Jeff, I have to apologize about not coming to the hospital at the end. I didn't know how to handle what would happen when you could see again, so I ran away." She looked away, "I guess I've been doing that for a while."He took her hand. "So my question is, are you ready to stop running? I don't want to push you to talk about anything until you're ready, but I want you to know you can trust me. I don't know what else I can do to make you see that I'm right where I want to be and I'm not going anywhere."Sarah sat quietly for a moment. "I can think of one thing," she said quietly, unable to look him in the eyes. "That night at the hospital, I did something I've never even considered doing before. It made me want more." He could hear her voice start to break. "The only memory I have about sex was a terrible one. I want to have good a memory with someone I care about."Jeff put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so he could look her in the eyes. "Sarah, I don't just care about you, I love you."He moved in to touch his lips against hers. He kissed her lightly, moving his lips across her cheek, her ear, then her neck. Finally, he returned to her lips, kissing her more passionately. He felt her lips part and gently began teasing them with his tongue, encouraging her to reciprocate. As his fingers gently caressed her cheek, his thumb softly traced the scar, causing her to blush. She pushed at his hand, uncomfortable with the contact.He broke their kiss, and began leaving a trail of kisses along the only blemish to her features, trying to let her know he wasn't going to avoid it. After a moment, she gave up protesting and allowed him to proceed the way he wanted. When his hand moved from her face to her side, eventually rubbing the side of her breast through her blouse, she made a small involuntarily jump.Jeff hesitated, reminding himself to be careful with her. "Let's go to my room, Ok?"Sarah nodded her consent and followed as he led her down the hallway. When they reached his bedroom, he watched her reactions closely. She still appeared to be nervous, although she tried to appear confident.They sat on the edge of the bed and resumed kissing for several minutes. Jeff ran his hands softly up and down her back, the touches slowly wearing down her anxiousness. When he thought she was ready, Jeff kneeled on the floor in front of her and began unbuttoning her blouse.Sarah felt confused, she was uneasy, but every time his hands touched her shirt they would graze her breasts, causing a fluttering deep in her stomach that was building. She felt the button just above her bra give way and Jeff leaned in to kiss her between her breasts. She arched her back as she felt his lips touch her like no man ever had. Although he was clean shaven, she could feel the stubble on his chin rubbing against her sensitive skin. She was so lost in the sensation, she didn't notice he had finished with her buttons, only realizing how exposed she was as he pulled her blouse from her jeans.She felt the nervousness giving way to the excitement he was causing. He gently caressed her over her bra. Sarah took a sudden, deep breath as she felt the front clasp give way and the material slide across her sensitive nipples. She pulled him close, thrilling at his warmth.That immediately gave way to frustration when he briefly grazed her breast again with his lips, only to skip down to her stomach. He gently pushed her back until she was lying flat on the bed, then ran his hands down her legs until he reached her feet. He quickly pulled off her shoes before moving back up to her jeans.Jeff paused for a moment, letting his hands run up and down the outside of her thighs. He reveled in her reactions to his touch. For a moment, he stopped worrying about what she might be thinking and realized just how lucky he was to be with an angel like this. The fact that she still was partially dressed added to her allure. He ran his hands over her stomach, settling on the snap of her jeans, which gave way with a pop that startled her causing another small jump. He again reminded himself to go slowly until she was ready.He moved to her stomach, kissing and running his tongue teasingly around her navel to distract her. It caused her discomfort to grow until it felt like she was riding a roller coaster. It didn't keep her from noticing his hands working on her zipper. She felt it begin to slowly creep down, imagining she could hear every metal tooth click as his fingers worked the slider down. When he grabbed her jeans with both hands and began inching them down her hips, she nervously lifted slightly off of the bed to help.She could feel her anxiety growing, thinking about him looking at her in just her panties. Sarah knew she was already wet, she could feel her underwear sticking to her outer lips and felt a little awkward. Even though she wanted this more than ever, part of her was glad he hadn't tried to undress her completely.When Jeff pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, he urged her to turn onto her stomach. Moving his lips up her legs, he used his tongue to leave wet kisses up her calves. Reaching her knee, he lingered at the sensitive spot, watching her tense and grab at the bed sheet with her hands. After a moment, he worked his way up the inside of her thigh, tenderly kissing every inch and began to feel her shake.&

Rescue and patchwork relationship.B Book 3 in 18 parts, y FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Loving your enemy is easy, you know precisely where both of you stand(Right where we left off)The closest Marine had been waiting for me to finish my bonding moment with Menner before speaking. He walked and talked like an officer."You are certainly Mr. Cáel Nyilas," he nodded. "I'm Lt. Robeson, United States Marine Corps. I would like to take you and your party home. What is the situation?""Lieutenant, this young lady is Aya Ruger. She was kidnapped along-side me and managed to kill over twenty of our enemies, so be careful around her." I was deadly serious about what I said. Aya should get proper credit for all the people she sedated then drowned. Dead was dead, even if it was accidental."These two," I pointed to Zhen and Mu, "are Lúsìla ninda and Amar, Taiwanese nationals suffering some shock from the abrupt crash landing of the aircraft. They don't seem to know why they were kidnapped, but they were instrumental in aiding Aya and me making it to shore during the typhoon.""If you say so, Sir," he nodded. He did believe me, yet a soldier was taught to be skeptical of anything a civilian told him about a military situation. "The bodies?""Those are the corpses we found after the storm. I decided we should attempt to place them in your custody so you can figure out who they are," I suggested."Sir, I don't think we can let civilians keep their weapons aboard the flight," the Marine Lt. stated since I had both a pistol and submachine gun, Aya had her pistol and Zhen had her and Mu's blades. A Marine NCO sent a party to gather the dead."Marine, I am Cáel Nyilas, Irish diplomat, freebooter and Champion of the worst possible causes," I began my spiel."You probably have some orders concerning bringing me in alive. I am not so constrained and am more than willing to steal this aircraft and fly back to Hawaii without you. My team keeps their weapons, or you give me your best shot, right now," I met his gaze. He mulled over his options. Two Romanians and two Marines were starting to load the ad hoc body bags aboard the C-37B."Normally I don't take that kind of crap from a civilian and I don't want you to think I'm making an exception because of your Security Clearance. I'll let your people keep your weapons, but if something goes wrong, I'm shooting you first," he assured me."Done deal," I offered my hand and he shook it."Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day," he congratulated me."What?" I gasped. Rescue and patchwork relationships{6 pm, Sunday, August 17th ~ 22 Days to go}{11 pm Sunday, Aug. 17th (Havenstone Time)}{And just this once, 11am Monday, Aug. 18th Beijing Time}"Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day;, nice work.," the Marine congratulated me."What?""How is that possible?" muttered Mu."Yippee!! No more burning monks," Aya fist-pumped. Personally, I think she did that for the enjoyment of our guardians and to piss off Zhen and Mu just a tiny bit more.(Mandarin) "Brother," Zhen studied her brother's pained expression. "What has gone wrong?"(Mandarin) "The province of Tibet apparently has broken away," he groused. In English, to the Marine Lieutenant he repeated, "How is this possible?""I take it you didn't know Peace Talks had broken out?" he grinned. I doubted the Lt. bought my 'these are my two Taiwanese cobelligerents' story, but belief was above his pay grade, so he didn't give a shit."Yes," Mu mumbled, "we knew of the proposed cease-fire.""Yes, you mean both sides actually honored it?" I added. I really had been out things for a while."Nearly two days ago, noon, Peking Time, the People's Republic of China and the Khanate put a six month cease-fire into effect which has remained intact for forty-one," he looked at his watch, "forty-one and a half hours." He was being a cock to the petulant Mu. No one called Beijing 'Peking' anymore. I had even ordered Beijing Duck on several menus. Peking was the height of Western Imperialist thinking, or so it looked to Mu.(Mandarin) "He is yanking your chain, Mu," I explained. "You are looking pissed off at being rescued, which isn't doing my alibi for you much good.""My apology," Mu nodded to the lieutenant. "Is there any news from the Republic of China? Are they free as well?" That was nice of Mu to call Taiwan by its pet name, the ROC."Not yet," he patted Mu's unwounded leg, "but with the utter shellacking the Khanate put on the People's Navy (really the People's Liberation Army Navy, but the Marine was getting his shots in) it is only a matter of time."I had been translating in a low voice to the V nători de munte in order for them to keep up with the conversation. They all started laughing. The Marines joined in. There was a huge joke here that we had missed out on while stranded.(Romanian) "So, ask them if they know where their aircraft carrier is," Menner chuckled. Most Romanians had grown up knowing of only one China.Me: (Romanian) "What!"A Naval Corpsman who didn't know Romanian, but knew 'aircraft carrier' just fine jumped in: "Oh yeah, the missing Chinese Aircraft carrier," she chortled.Mu: "What!"I'd only been gone two and a half days. What the hell had been going on?(What had transpired in my absence and the subsequent consequences)(Notes:P R C = People's Republic of China; PLA = People's Liberation Army;P L A N = People's Liberation Army Navy;P L A A F = People's Liberation Army Air Force;R O C = the Republic of China {aka Taiwan, aka Chinese Taipei, aka the "other China"};The First Unification War {aka what the Khanate did to China in 2014};Truce lasts from August 16th 2014 until February 15th, 2015 = 183 days)There are several classic blunders grownups should know to avoid: never fight a land war in Asia, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line, and, if you are going to cross a master thief, first make sure you have nothing of value. For the land war in Asia, check with my partner, the Khanate. Substituting Black Hand for Sicilian ~ check with Ajax, use an Ouija board. So far, destiny was batting .500.The last blunder I created entirely on my own, but I felt it was the true and right response for the circumstances. So witness the Six Families of the Ninja and the greatest theft in all of recorded history.In the closing hours of the First Unification War, as in many wars, some serious theft was going on; mainly it was the People's Republic getting fleeced.The most obvious and immediate blows came in the Spratlys and Parcel Islands where Khanate forces (actually, elements from all the JIKIT players) seized the key island in the Parcel chain, Woody Island, and secured the P L A N base the Chinese had created there, including the 2,700 meter runway built there in the 1990's. The 1,443 Chinese civilians and 600 military inhabitants in the area were incidental complications and the survivors were about to be 'repatriated' to the mainland anyway; the Khanate didn't want them hanging around as they prepared for the inevitable end of the six-month truce.Yes, the Khanate had stolen the most important island airfield ~ an unsinkable carrier really ~ in the South China Sea. It was also the northern end of the potential People's Republic of China's stranglehold on the east-west sea lanes between East Asia and the rest of the World, i.e., roughly 25% of all global trade.The southern end? That would be the Spratlys. There are few 'real' islands in that 'island group' and only two worth having: the artificial one the P L A N was building and the one the ROC has a 1200 meter airfield on. That artificial island and every other PRC/P L A N outpost in the region was also stolen by the Khanate between 4 a.m. and noon of that final day of active conflict.Every geological feature that had been the basis for the PRC's claims to all of the South China Sea was now in Khanate hands. Considering how much the P L A N had bullied everyone else in that portion of the globe, the Khanate taking over their geopolitical position was incredibly awkward. It was going to get worse.Technically, the Khanate hadn't stolen the P L A N 'South Sea Fleet' (SSF); they'd blown the fuck out of it, including sinking the sole fully-functioning P L A N carrier Liaoning as well as five of the nine destroyers and six of the nineteen frigates in her battle group. The Liaoning and one destroyer had died in those last few hours as the SSF was racing for the relative safety of Philippine waters ~ so close, but no cigar.So the Khanate had stolen the ability of the P L A N to project power in the South China Sea until February 15th, 2015 when the U N brokered truce ended. But that was not the epic theft, though. That distinction went to the Ninja. What did they steal? A semi-functional Chinese nuclear powered super-aircraft carrier still under construction.The beast had no official name yet, but she was a 75,000 ton engine of Global Domination laid down in 2011 and clearly complete enough to float and to be steered under her own power. (To be on the safe side, the Ninja included stealing four tugboats to help in their getaway.) So, you may be asking yourself, how does one 'steal' a nuclear-powered, 1000 foot long, 275 foot wide and ten-story tall vessel?For starters, you need a plan to get on board the sucker. We had begun with the Black Lotus. They wanted to sneak onboard, exit the dockyard the ship was being built in, then sink it off the coast so it couldn't be easily salvaged. That was plan A.Enter the Khanate and their plans; they too wanted to sink this vessel, and destroy the dry docks while they were at it. That was plan B. Actually, the Khanate desire was to contaminate that whole section of the port city with fallout from shattered reactors. They knew they would have to apply overkill when they smashed that bitch of a ship because the PLAN had hurriedly put on board its defensive weaponry ~ ensuring that the Khanate couldn't easily destroy it. For their approach, Temujin's people wanted the Black Lotus' help with the on-the-ground intelligence work. But the Black Lotus didn't want to help anyone irradiate Chinese soil.Enter JIKIT as referee. All those islands the 'Khanate' was busy stealing were actually part of a larger JIKIT mission called Operation Prism. Another object that was a part of the overall plan was Operation Wo Fat, the sinking of the Liaoning ~ again GPS direction and distance to be courtesy of the Black Lotus.JIKIT absolutely needed the Black Lotus. The Black Lotus wouldn't help anyone planning on poisoning any part of China for the next thousand years. Sinking the unnamed and incomplete vessel off the coast in deep waters meant no nuclear leakage and plenty of post-war time to salvage the wreck before it did start to hemorrhage. The Khanate wanted to kill this potential strategic nightmare no matter what it cost the Chinese ecology.JIKIT went to the Ninja to help them adjudicate the issue. All the lights flared brightly in Ninja-Town when they heard of that delicate dilemma. They could make everybody happy and send a clear message to the Seven Pillars expressing how unhappy the six surviving families were about the 7P's trying to annihilate them when all of this 'unpleasantness' began.The Khanate was already going to blast the shipyards and docks, the Black Lotus was already going to sail the ship into deep waters, so why not take it one step further, sail the ship into Japanese waters and declare it Khanate property as a colossal Fuck You! to the PRC, PLAN and specifically the Seven Pillars, all at the same time?Now normally, you can't steal a ship that big. The owners will notice it is missing and come looking for it. And you can't sell or hide the damn thing. So, you steal it at the tail end of a war before the players can capture, or sink it. It just so happened the Ninja had access to a war and such a time table.The next problem: where do you put it? The Khanate's closest safe haven was 8,000 km away at the Eastern Mediterranean Seaport of Izmir.But wait!The Khanate was about to steal an island airbase with its own (albeit small) harbor. The Khanate was confident that a few weeks after the truce, an alternate port, or two, would become available for the two-to-three year process it would require to prepare the vessel so it could be commissioned as the true warship it was meant to be.So, how do you steal a well-guarded, humongous ship with its skeleton crew of 500? You need a distraction ~ a big one. Remember those Khanate airstrikes? They intended to destroy the dockyards anyway. Now all they had to do was 'miss' the carrier.They could do that. If you recall, to dissuade the Khanate from sinking the ship in the final days of the war, the PLAN had hastily put teeth on the thing by giving it all its pre-designed defensive weaponry and added jury-rigged radar and sonar systems. The carrier could defend itself if needed. With the new plan (C), the airstrikes could avoid those teeth, thus reducing the risk of losing their precious planes and pilots.A series of bombing runs and missile hits near the carrier would convince the PLAN admiral in charge to hurriedly put some distance between the ship and shore, Not out to sea. That would be stupid. Within the harbor, his weaponry could adequately defend his ship. And if she took serious damage, he could run her aground, so the vessel wouldn't really sink.The only problem was that out in the harbor, with everything exploding, he was away from the only ground security support available. That was when the Amazons, Black Lotus, Ninja and JIKIT mercenaries would make their move. How could they sneak up on such a big, important ship? By using the submarines the US Navy, the British Royal Navy and Japanese Defense Force were providing, of course.Note: As I stated earlier, Lady Fathom, Addison and Riki had wandered way off the reservation . By this time, if you were a Japanese, British, or American submarine commander in the Yellow Sea and you weren't part of this madness, you were insanely jealous of those who were.The missions JIKIT was sending them on were:-definitely Acts of War if they were ever discovered,-far more dangerous than any war game exercise they'd ever been part of, and-the ultimate test of their crews and equipment.These people weren't suicidal. They believed they were the best sneaks under the Seven Seas and now they could prove it ~ in 50 years when this stuff was declassified (if it ever was).For the one American, two British and four Japanese submarines inserting the assault teams, this whole mission had a surreal feel to it. They were transporting a packed assortment of women of Indian, Malaysian and Indonesian descent along with some very lithe Japanese ladies and gents, none of who talked a whole lot.There was a third group with the spooky women and spookier Japanese teams, and that group was scared shitless about the sudden turn their lives had taken. They were all former American and British servicewomen (to not tick off the Amazons too much) with carrier and/or nuclear reactor experience who had been RIFed (Reduction in Force, aka fired) in the past five years from their respective national navies.Around a week ago, they had all answered an advertisement by a logistics support corporation that was going to do a 'force modernization' in an unnamed country. They all knew that mean the Khanate. The job had been laid out as 'basically your old job with the addition of training the natives' and it included the promise of no combat.It was a guaranteed five year contract with an option for a year-to-year extensions for another five years if you desired to stick around. For that, you received your 'pay grade upon retirement + 20%', free room and board, private security, judicial protections and a $10,000 to $10,900 signing bonus. For many struggling military families, it was manna from Heaven and thousands were signing up.Then 72 hours ago, a different group from the same company came knocking on the women's doors. If you could come with them right then and there, they had a satchel of money, $100,000 to $109,000, tax free, and a Non-disclosure Agreement for you to sign. Sure, the deal sounded shady, but the money was very real.Twenty-four hours later those who accepted the money found themselves in a small fishing village on Ko Island, Japan. There some rather fiercely intense people outlined the job they were needed for. From a submarine, the assault teams would sneak aboard the carrier, neutralize the crew and then the new crew (them) would sail it to Jeju, Jeju Island, South Korea.At that point they would be allowed to stay with the vessel (preferred), or depart for a non-war zone of their choice. Both options came with another $100,000 to $109,000 payment. Anyone who declined this particular job would remain incognito on Ko Island for another 48 hours then be allowed to leave without the need to return their initial payment.Of the 312 job applicants, 293 volunteered for both the first and second parts of the assignment. With the technical and linguistic expertise of the Amazons and 9 Clan members that would be enough to get their prize to Jeju Island's temporary safety and then make the last leg to Woody Island and a more permanent anchorage.Besides the airstrikes to goad the carrier away from the wharves, all the Khanate had to do with the carrier was put three or four clearly Mongolian faces onboard when the various nations of the world came calling. After all, what was the public going to believe:, the Khanate had pulled off yet another daring (i.e., mostly JIKIT) Special Forces coup, just as they'd managed to do throughout this short war, or that 'Ninjas stole my Battleship, umm, carrier' stuff some PRC leaders were claiming? Forty-eight hours later the whole globe was able to watch the newly named Khanate supercarrier, the  z Beg Khan, passing through Japanese territorial waters while being escorted by South Korean and Japanese warships.The PRC did complain to the United Nations over the 'theft' of both the carrier and 'their' islands, but the Security Council, led by the UK, could and would do nothing about the 'latest round of injustices heaped upon the People of China'. By the time the UN got around to doing nothing, the next round of JIKIT diplomacy was causing the PRC even greater headaches.That greatest theft, while remarkable in its own right, was really a sideshow to the reordering of the political order in Southeast Asia. The big winner wasn't the Khanate. And it certainly wasn't the mainland Chinese. No, the nations to immediately prosper were an unlikely pair, the Republic of India and the People's Republic of Vietnam (PRV). The Republic of China (R O C) was also getting its own small boost as well.By gambling their precious navy, India had become the largest power broker in the South China Sea's resource bonanza. She went from a minimal presence to being the critical ally of the Khanate and the 'big stick' (naval-wise) of Asia's new dynamic duo. The Indians had the only two functional aircraft carriers in the region and the Khanate had Woody Island with a mega-carrier number of planes sitting on it.Their combined naval aviation was not something any of the others powers wanted to mess with. The duo then sealed their supremacy by making the duo a trio. That third member was the PRV. Vietnam was the land-based logistical anchor of the three regional powers.Not only did Vietnam gain the prestige denied it for over two centuries, it redressed the P L A N humiliating treatment of their own navy for the past thirty years. The Khanate's naval aviation would shield Vietnam's economic exploitation of the Parcel Islands. The Indian Navy could counter anything the P L A N South China fleet could come at them with.Yes, the P L A N had two other fleets, the Northern and Eastern, but both had been put through their own 1001 levels of Hell by the Khanate's air power, plus they had to protect the Chinese heartland from Russia and North Korean ambitions. The South Koreans and Japanese were suddenly a very real threat from the East too. But for the time being, the Indians had the decisive edge.The final location for the  z Beg Khan was an old familiar haunt for some Americans, Da Nang, PRV. It had the facilities, courtesy of the US military from the 1960's and 70's, to be the new base for the Khanate's Eastern Fleet and logistical hub for their naval aviation forces in the Parcel Islands.The Vietnamese were thinking with more than their testicles, as were the Indians. Sure, geopolitical clout was nice, yet that was only the icing on the economic cake that was the Parcel Island Accords. That hasty bit of JIKIT backroom dealings gave a 50% stake in the Parcels to the PRV.India got 20% of something she had 0% in a month ago. The Khanate gained a 20% stake for their audacity and the ROC gained 10% because the other three would protect its share from the PRC. Something was better than nothing and the three legitimate powers agreed to the deal because in less than six months, the PRC would be back in the game.The Indians and Vietnamese wanted the Khanate to stay interested in the region and the Taiwanese wanted to forge closer ties to the Khanate. That treaty was a 'no-brainer'. Within one week, the Vietnamese were strutting like peacocks and internal political opposition to the Indian intervention into the South China Sea in the Indian parliament was silent.The Spratly Islands was a tougher deal to work out within the six month timetable. There were more players ~ the Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei, Indonesia and Thailand (who had a non-functional carrier). The JIKIT deal gave everyone but the Indians a 10% piece of the huge natural gas, oil and fisheries pie and the Indians got 20% once more.The Philippines and Malaysia were both very opposed to this treaty; they believed they deserved a far larger portion of those regional resources. Indonesia and Thailand also felt they could hold out for a bigger slice and weren't happy with India getting so much for basically having a double handful of ships (34 actually) sailing about.That 'handful of ships' was the point JIKIT was trying to make. If the PRC beat the Khanate next year, did any of the players think the PRC would give them anything, even if they promised them more right now? Really? When the PLAN had the biggest guns, they hadn't respected any other claims to the region. Why would that change in the future?The reality was this: India would only stick around if they had the economic incentive to remain. Vietnam, the Khanate and the ROC were watching the clock and realized this was the best deal they would get. Brunei and the Philippines were also coming to that understanding. Brunei was tiny (thus easy to defend), very rich already and a good ally of the British.The Philippines had a very weak navy and a non-existent naval air force. They couldn't even enforce their current claims versus Brunei, much less confront the PLAN, or any other nation's current military. The Philippines was, sadly, relatively big and very poor. Its big traditional ally was the United States, and the US was currently busy doing 'not much' about the South China Sea situation.The world's biggest navy was partially taking up its traditional (and treaty bound) role of interposing itself between the North Koreans, PLAN/PLAAF and Russians arrayed near Japan and South Korea, or busily not 'ratcheting up tensions' in the region by sending more forces into the front lines.President Obama was urging dialogue and 'stepping back from the brink' even though every country in Southeast Asia felt the brink had already dissipated the moment the PRC was forced to accept the cease-fire. In this context, the Philippines had good reason to be feeling lonely at the moment.Bizarrely, both New Delhi and Hanoi were singing the praises of US Secretary of State John Kerry and the Rt. Honorable Phillip Hammond, Secretary for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs for the UK, for their deft handling of the crisis, thank you, Riki Martin and Lady Yum-Yum.Riki wasn't expecting any thanks. She was certain she'd be fired and imprisoned for the rest of her life. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke was sure she'd get two additional knighthoods out of the deal, which would look very nice engraved on her tombstone. Javiera had long ago decided to face the music and go down with the ship, so to speak.The CIA's Addison Stuart already had her exit strategy. She was going to go work for the Khanate, building up their clandestine service when this whole mad scheme collapsed into recriminations and 'extreme sanctions'. Mehmet, Air Force Sr. Master Sgt. Billings and Agent-86 had all decided to go with her. Katrina had their escape plane on standby. Mehmet's family was already 'vacationing' in Canada.Anyway, the Republic of India, the Khanate, the Republic of China, the People's Republic of Vietnam (the Vietnamese were happy to already be getting half of the Parcel Island windfall), the Sultanate Brunei (Lady Fathom 'knew' some people and the Sultan was an autocratic Muslim ruler, just like the Great Khan) and the Philippines (because they had no other true choice) were all coming around to signing the Spratly Accords.Indonesia and Thailand were kind of waiting for a better deal. Malaysia was downright hostile, having gravitated toward the PRC over the past decade and been assured by the PRC a better apportionment would be their reward for upsetting the treaty process.The Great Khan's answer was simple. He publically threatened the Malaysian Federation in general and both the King (Sultan Abdul Halim of Kedah) and Prime Minister of Malay (Dato' Sri Najib Tun Razak) in particular with military action if they kept dragging their feet.He even told them how he'd do it. He'd butcher or expel every living thing in the states of Perlis and Kedah (~ 2.1 million people) and give those empty lands to Thailand to settle along with the added sweetener of Malaysia's 10% of the Spratlys. He would also invade Eastern Malaysia, taking the island state of Labuan for himself while giving Sarawak to Indonesia and Sabah to the Philippines if those to states agreed to the split.He'd also decimate their navy & air force before devastating every port city, just like he'd done to China. He'd already killed more than two million Chinese. What was another two million Malays to him? Also, Indonesia wanted Sarawak and the Philippines had claims on Sabah. While they were openly and publically defying the Great Khan's plan, could Malaysia really take the chance?What would India and Thailand do while this was going on? Thailand stated that it would protect its territorial integrity, whatever that meant. India wasn't returning Malaysia's phone calls while showing their populace re-runs of Malaysian violence against their Hindu minority, the bastards!To the world, the Indian Navy proclaimed it would 'defend itself and its supply lines' which was a subtle hint that they would shepherd any Khanate invasion force to their destination. Why would the Indians be so insensitive? The Malaysians were screwing up their deal to get 20% of both the Parcel and Spratlys wealth, that's why.If the Khanate went down, there was no way India could defend their claims (which they'd won by doing nothing up until now). Oh yeah, Vietnam began gathering up warplanes, warships, transport ships and troops for the quick (710 km) jaunt across the Gulf of Thailand to north-eastern Malaysia to kill Malaysians because Vietnam needed the Khanate to ensure their own economic future as well.That military prospect had a cascade effect, especially among the Indonesian military. If the Indian Navy remained active, the vastly more populous Western Malaysia couldn't reinforce the state of Sarawak. Sure, the Philippines was unlikely to conquer Sabah on their own, but all the Indonesians needed was for Sabah to be kept pre-occupied while their army took their promised territory, fulfilling a fifty year old dream of conquest/unification.The United Nations blustered. It wasn't that they didn't care, they did. They also cared about the deteriorating situations in Libya, Nigeria, Syria and Ukraine. The situation was complicated by the unwillingness of the permanent members of the Security Council, namely the PRC and Russia, to recognize the Khanate.In reverse, when those two tried to stick it to the Khanate, the UK stoically vetoed them. Why? Well, more on that later. Let's just say the Khanate was good for business in the European Union in general and the United Kingdom in particular because the Khanate was prepared to economically befriend the British. Ireland was being treated in a promising manner too. The United States,the United Nations?Let's just say that in the two months following the cease-fire, the Khanate bloodily and brutally solved the ISIS conundrum and the Donbass Crisis. When the smoke cleared, the Khanate had reintroduced the practice of impalement to the modern battlefield, driven the separatists from the Ukraine and was on the border with Israel and Jordan.Sure, the Ukrainians were stun-fucked by the Khanate's 'peace-keepers' going on a bloody rampage through the eastern rebellious regions, but they had delivered up peace by mid-September. Yes, the Russians were in an uproar about the impalements.As the Khanate spokesperson said, 'if they aren't your people, then it is not your problem' and 'there are no more Russians left alive in the Ukraine'. In fact, fewer than a thousand people, all armed insurgents, were executed in such a manner, but the terror created by the highly publicized killings had the effect of sending a hundred thousand people stampeding over the frontier into Russia proper.Next, the Khanate said it wanted to 'reexamine' the Crimean situation. There were Turcoman in that area and they weren't being treated well, or so it was claimed.Even as Russia and the Khanate were posturing in the Donbass, the Khanate struck in the Middle East. By the end of September, Syria and Lebanon had ceased to exist as organized entities. Most of those two countries as well as portions of western Iraq became Turkish provinces in the Khanate infrastructure. Northeastern Syria, southeastern Turkey and northern Iraq became the Khanate state of Kurdistan.It was a campaign reminiscent of the 13th century Mongol conquest, not a modern military struggle. Whole villages were eradicated. The entire Arab population of Mosul was exiled to the new territories in the East. The city was repopulated with Kurds from Turkey. Back in Turkey, those Kurds were replaced by Armenians from Azerbaijan, cauterizing another internal issue within the Khanate.Jordan was cautiously hopeful. Israel? "We don't seem to be having problems with Hezbollah anymore," with a shrug and "it could be worse." As for ISIS; there really was an Islamic State controlling more than half of Iraq and all of Syria now and it allowed no other pretenders to that distinction. By the time the world woke up to that reality though, the Great Hunt had happened and I was dealing with the consequences of that.A larger ideological and political matter was occurring in the United States, the United Kingdom (and to a limited extent Australia and Canada). The Ramshackle Empire (aka the Khanate) was just that ~ a Frankenstein nation fueled more by nationalistic pride and nostalgia for a Super-State (that only two living people had firsthand experience with) than an integrated armed forces and infrastructure.It may have been built upon more than a 13th century creation and two hundred years of real and imagined oppression. It did have long term planning and real genius driving it forward. Having throttled the PRC into giving them six precious months of peace to 'tidy up the backyard' (aka the Middle East and Russia) and forge a true nation, the Khanate was now hiring experts to aid them in the task.First and foremost, Temujin and the Earth & Sky had envisioned an armed state built upon military principles and discipline. Fate had delivered to them the means of their own salvation in the form of NATO's policy of disarmament and 'Reduction-In-Force' levels (RIFed).The US and UK had trained tens of thousands of male and female volunteers in their Armed Forces in infrastructure creation and management for the Afghanistan and Iraq campaigns. From 2010, those militaries had informed those experts that their services were no longer required. Unlike the shrinking militaries of the 1990's, there was no private sector to 'soak up' the majority of those personnel.The Earth & Sky had been working on the problem of nation-building on a time table and they kept coming up short. They had to fight to create their state first, so the all-important after-battle had been something their leaders dreaded. Temujin had been understanding about not everything being 100% ready. Few wars were fought that way.Then a young male Amazon of mixed Magyar ancestry talked history with the Earth & Sky representative to a seemingly inconsequential personage's funeral. A few critical E&S leaders (a minority, to be sure) immediately sought ways to cultivate this man into what was a ten year plan to open doors to the Amazons. Then that man saved the Great Khan's life and everything changed.Before the E&S had even remotely considered directly approaching the Amazons for help, the Amazons came knocking on their door. The Seven Pillars of Heaven had tried to kidnap a camp full of Amazon children ~ an assault on their future. The two secret societies were bound by one unique, fortunate idiot and a mutual thirst for vengeance.They were also directed by two incredibly foresighted, ambitious and brilliant people. In Katrina of Epona, the E&S elders found someone who equaled their hope to see the Seven Pillars humbled and humbled immediately. Moreover, these were the Amazons they were dealing with. Amazons always sought both lightning decisions and long term solutions.From the moment Iskender left his third meeting with Cáel Nyilas, Katrina put the fruits of the First Directive (the Amazons efforts to recruit militant outsider women) into overdrive. Havenstone had the apparatus in place to screen potential inductees. All they had to do was add a "can you suggest any other people who might be interested in this line of work" box to their employment forms.That brought men into the process in surprising numbers. The market was flush with military veterans having trouble readjusting to the civilian community. The Khanate wasn't hiring killers. They wanted ex-military and civilian police officers to create a national police force.They also wanted engineers and builders, cadres for their cadet corps and a whole range of specialist in jobs most of the Western World took for granted. The money came from off-shore accounts funded by Havenstone International. The employment opportunities came from Earth & Sky front companies operating in the UK and the US (and Israel, but that was another matter).They had already started hiring scores of civilian English-speaking experts to help build their newborn nation's infrastructure before the first blow landed. English hadn't been chosen out of any cultural bias. Relying on Russian and Chinese sources wasn't feasible, the Khanate wasn't overly linguistically gifted where distant tongues were concerned and, as pointed out, the English-speaking world had a glut of applicants.Now to the problem, there were people in the US and UK who weren't happy with their citizenry going to the Khanate and helping them to survive and thrive. These power groups wanted the Mongol-Turkish Empire to keep the resources flowing to the West, without any reciprocal commitment on their part.Imagine their surprise when some wonks at the State Department and Foreign Ministries found bundles of expedited passport requests to the (former) nations of Turkmenistan, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan and Mongolia (and later Afghanistan and Iraq). The Department of Defense  Ministry of Defense were discovering their former military personnel and civilian contractors with Security Clearances were heading the same way.Of all those destinations, only Mongolia and Kazakhstan were under any kind of 'Restricted Travel' advisories. Barring any coherent anti-Khanate strategy from their administrations, the bureaucracies were doing their jobs, with Havenstone exerting just enough influence to get the job done while flying beneath the radar.After JIKIT was created, the group had a US Senator greasing the wheels to get the requests expedited. In England, Lady Worthington-Burke shamelessly used the people at the other end of the O'Shea hotline to get the job done overseas. She did have to sell out a teammate, but that was what good boys were for ~ taking one for the team. (That would be me, if there was any misunderstanding.)When Cáel Nyilas was kidnapped under the watchful eye of the FBI (I wasn't sure how they got that bum-wrap), the whole situation exploded. The PRC didn't have me, yet promised they might produce me if certain concessions were made. According to Addison, I was worth 5,000 barrels a day of refined fuel oil and 50 tons of coal a month, and the Great Khan agreed to pay! Woot! I was loved by somebody who was a somebody.All that attention drove home some salient points. I was a noble scion of Ireland, Romania, Georgia and Armenia (in no particular order) and they all wanted to know why the US had let me be kidnapped. Didn't my president know I was a sacred national treasure? After JIKIT tracked down the bribes and clandestine activities to Chinese shell corporations, those powers wanted to know what sanctions would be applied.'But wait, wasn't I a private citizen?' my national leaders pleaded. Then the PRC made a case which boiled down to 'I had it coming for being a fiancé to Hana Sulkanen and a brother to the Great Khan', while ignoring me being snatched in the territorial US of A. Of course, they didn't claim to have actually done the kidnapping.Javiera was waiting on that one; 'What was their excuse for kidnapping a little US girl to force my compliance?' The furious Federal authorities even found two dead adult bodies and two digits from said child to add to the media frenzy. To prove I had migrated to fantasy land, the CNN journalist got it right ~ they had tortured the girl and I had killed two of them for it. Just ask the Romanian Army how lethal I could be.In a rare comment, Temujin informed the international press that he believed I was still alive. Why did he believe that? If I wasn't, they would have been able to spot the pile of dead enemy around me and my 'boon companion' (go Aya!) from orbit. Until they discovered this carnal pit from Hell, I was surely still alive.Just at the cusp of turning publically against the Mongol barbarians, the world suddenly got angry with their enemy, the PRC. The principal two Western regimes were paralyzed with indecision until my miraculous cry for help from the middle of the Pacific showed the world I was alive, had punished my enemies and rescued others from under the opponent's cruel thumb.Clearly if I started ranting against the People's Republic of China, my government would be rather peeved with me. I hadn't screwed a dozen poli-sci majors to miss out on that obvious situation. I behaved and hoped they wouldn't make me die from an embolism, or some other equally implausible cause.(DC is a marvel. 9 pm, Monday, August 18th. 21 days)I'd been dragged to DC, to honor promises made in Rome a week ago. I had another choice; I could have justifiably said I was still getting over my kidnapping ordeal. But that choice fucked over Javiera Castello, my boss at JIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Task force).That was how I ended up in a 'secret and secure' meeting with Tony Blinken, Deputy National Security Advisor (DNSA) and his experts. He was someone I didn't know. The rest, I'd had a verbal run-in with them after the Romanian bloodbath. I'd been cranky. I would hardly consider us to be on good terms now.All four experts were from the US State Department. They were foregoing their usual group of flunkies because this meeting wasn't really happening. All the participants were officially somewhere else, mostly not even in D.C. Had this soiree 'really happened', the Congressional sub-committees would have been able to request the minutes of Tony's meeting with members of JIKIT and:·         Victoria Nuland, Ass. Sec. of State for European & Eurasian Affairs (ASSEEA)·         Robert O. Blake Jr., Ass. Sec. of State for S & C Asian Affairs (ASSCAA)·         Daniel R. Russel, Ass. Sec. of State for E. Asian and Pacific Affairs (ASSEAP)·         Bill A. Miller, Director of the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service (DSS) (aka Big Willy)We made stiff, formal introductions (which signaled the utter lack of trust in the room.) Javiera hadn't wanted to put me through an interrogation this soon after my near-death experience, considering my snarky nature when stressed. The White House was putting the squeeze on her. The main player was Tony, who talked with the Leader of the Free World on a weekly, if not daily, basis.The Diplomatic Security Service people had successfully peeled off Pamela and my SD Amazons only after they agreed I could keep Aya. They tolerated me keeping the nine-year old girl despite the obvious fact she had gone through worse hardships than I had endured and was still packing her Chinese QSW-06 suppressed pistol.I had already fabricated and submitted my report on how I'd overcome a plane-full of rogue delinquents from the Forumi i Rinis  Eurosocialiste t  Shqip ris  (Euro-socialist Youth Forum of Albania) bent on recruiting impressionable European socialites by accessing my Twitter account.That's right, the Albanians had it out for me. I reiterated that critical bit of data to the Department of Homeland Security when they questioned me on the veracity of my memories. The two ethnic Chinese I was found with? I thought they were from Taiwan, and they both appeared to be suffering from amnesia.I was already suffering repercussions from my pathological refusal to take life seriously. Javiera believed I was about to get a formal apology from Ferit Hoxha, Permanent Representative of Albania to the United Nations. Damn it! Now I had to do something nice for the Albanians. Maybe I'd offer them membership in the Khanate, full-statehood with an economic package to sweeten the deal.Yes, that was how Albania and Kosovo joined the Khanate, a product of my love for exaggeration and a little post-Ottoman solidarity over Tarator (cold soup made of yoghurt, garlic, parsley, cucumber, salt and olive oil with a side of fried squids), Tav  Kosi (lamb meatballs) and Flia & Kaymak (a dessert I highly recommend).We had toasted the Pillars of Kanun (Albanian oral law and tradition): ~ Nderi (honor), Mikpritja (hospitality), Sjellja (Right Conduct) and Fis (Kin Loyalty), ~ and he promised to tell his people that I had Besa which was an Albanian-ism for being a man who would honor his word of honor (despite us being brought together by my lie). The shit-ton of financial and military aid I asked the Great Khan to sweeten the pot with might have helped as well.Later, Lady Yum-Yum told me that the military leaders of NATO called it a 'master-stroke' in neutralizing Comrade Putin's Russian-backed 'Greek threat

A Walk In the Park  & Aya's Finest Hour.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Professional, conscript, or volunteer, they all have run away from battle.A Note on terminology and the metaphor of Cael's WorldThe terms Weave of Fate and 'Weave ' are interchangeable. Weave expresses the intersection ~ the sieve that all the possible futures entered to create what we perceive as this 'now'. Fate is the keeper of the sieve. The Present is what is happening right now. It is that infinitesimal which we interpret as Reality.The Legend is what happens when the present is pulled back through the weave and becomes the past. It is called the Legend because, as the former presents fade into the past, they blur; each becomes less precise and more open to interpretations. (It is as if you were looking at one thing through a prism; as you shift your stance, what you see appears to change.) Within the Legend exist mystic creatures, divinities, demons, spirits, all the Paradises and Hells.The Endless Black Sands is the final resting place for all failed legends. It is the place where all is forgotten until even former realities break down into the Black Sands. That Alal found a way to cheat this doom and retrieved Shammuramat, was truly remarkable; even though Fate 'balanced accounts' with him by sending Ajax and his war band along that path as well.If you wonder how that was a balancing, consider this:The only people Alal cares for (in his own brutal fashion) are Shammy, now Sakura, and his only true offspring in 5,000 years, Cáel.Fate sent Ajax.With Ajax available to test Cáel, how could Alal resist the temptation to place one of the planet's greatest killer on a collision course with both of his loves in order to test Cáel?The Veil is a function of the Weave that protects sentient perception from perceiving the Weave and disguises the otherness of creatures of legend, unless they willingly allow themselves to be seen, which they usually do only so they can 'physically' interact with the Present. Some sentient minds, through horrific trauma such as the Augurs' self- poisonings, through the quirks of Fate via Holy Men, Mad Prophets and Doomsayers such as Temujin, or through the touch of legends such as Ishara, can sense the fluctuations in the Veil and the things behind it. Cáel, in truth, has been shaped by all three vehicles (Ishara, the Augurs and Temujin's legend.)Oblivion is what awaits Reality if the Weave ever fails beyond its ability to heal itself. This threat is what keeps the creatures of legend from constantly traversing the Weave. They have to weaken the Weave to do so or to use powers in Reality, the greater the distortion they create, the greater the weakening that occurs.End Note(Two days ago, with thirty days left)"That was fantastic, Lady Yum-Yum," I sighed."What did you just call me?" she panted softly. We were naked in one of our Task Force bedrooms that was actually used for sleeping, and now sex. I was still pressed against her reposed body, despite our recent exertions. She was on her stomach, arms stretched down her sides.She was sweaty and short of breath. She still had her wits about her and an awareness of our situation: victory sex, me still aroused and her fingernails scratching my thighs and buttocks. My equally sticky body was pressing down on her, even though I supported my weight with outstretched hands placed on either side of her shoulders."Lady Yum-Yum," I mumbled as I kissed the back of her head. "That was the first thing that sprang to mind when you introduced yourself." I could see her working that through her highly complex mind."When writing your memoirs, please remember to me refer to me that way," she began to flex her thighs and abdominal muscles, so that her ass was pumping against my hips."Only if this helps persuade you to give me a repeat performance.""I'll consider,," she purred, then paused to catch her breathe. "You are in phenomenal shape, young man. Do any of your other lady-loves have pet names?""Nope," I grunted as I withdrew.She had teased me with anal sex hints repeatedly, yet never delivered. She liked the game and the power she wielded. My body being on top of hers was only an illusion of a tactical advantage. She knew me pretty well already. I wasn't the kind of guy who would use physical strength to overwhelm her vulnerable position. This being so, a cerebral skirmish only excited her more.We waged a war that was based on intakes of breath, the shimmying of muscles and the trembling of fatigued flesh. The prize for me was the winning. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke played tricky-clever, but I was better. And at times like this, she admitted it. She gave me what I wanted. I rolled her.Straight, face-to-face fucking. The Lady's pulsar gaze trapped my vision. She smiled, grudgingly at first, then more and more sensually as my glans returned to her g-spot that it had scouted out earlier. This was 'surrender by the Fathom method'. She gave me what I wanted, so I took what I wanted, and pleasured her at the same time."Mmm, you are a bad, bad boy," she lapsed into her trashy West-End Londoner accent. It was perfect and an erotic whiplash when added to her native, refined manner of speech. This wasn't a trick this time, it was a treat. It was a gift, reciprocated. The tactile sensation of her cervix becoming a soft, spongey chalice for my final penetrations was icing on an all-so-luscious cake.I tendered her a tribute worthy of my first love, Dr. Kimberly Geisler. It was strange to find a woman like her. Outside of Kimberly, I had found only one other woman who graciously offered her ultimate pleasure paean to the hundreds of lovers who had become before. That other woman, it still floored me, was Buffy Du, no, Buffy Ishara, First of my House."Oh!" and several heartbeats later, "Cáel!" several hissed series of breathes and then, "Goddess! You are better than good!"Two thoughts collided within me:A) I had never seen a more controlled orgasmic explosion in my life. I was going to have to tell Buffy about this, once we were safely in bed. If it was office talk, she'd punch me through a window and that would make Aya cry. I couldn't have that.B) Goddess? I thought she was Anglican. This needed further study. This treatment was really nice. I leaned in, kissed her. Lady Yum-Yum smiled. "Take me to the shower. Play time is over, Cáel," and she was back to all business."You are treating me like a fleshy vibrator," I pointed out."But you are a very finely-trained, fleshy vibrator, you wonderful boy," she stroked my cheek. "Shower! Now!" So, like a Good Boy, International Merchant of Death and Chosen Son of a Divine Amazon Goddess, I slid off her, then cradled her in my arms as I rose from our totally trashed mattress.I didn't smile when it was confirmed that I wasn't carrying her out of any romantic after-coitus gesture. She couldn't walk. Woot! It took a bit of effort to get us into the walk-in shower and to get the water just perfect, all while keeping her cradled. She helped out by keeping her arms tightly around my neck."Cheeky bastard," she whispered in my ear. "You are gloating." Then she nibbled on my earlobe for good measure."Damn right," I did gloat as I let her slide down to her feet. "You are pretty sweet for an Old Chick." She wasn't angry, oh no."If you were trying to get me to say, 'I'll get you next time," she licked, nipped and sucked on my nipple as if I was the one with the mammaries in this relationship, "it worked." Double-Woot! I was going to get that damn four-way! I did coax a vigorous shower-quickie out of my Lady. Afterward, she shifted herself so she could get under one of the steaming showerheads."Cáel, why didn't you use a condom," she mused. Gak!"You aren't on Birth Control?" I panicked. She laughed at me."No. I've never been a fan of hormones replacement. I like the way I am. Do you expect the women to do all the anti-pregnancy measures?""No," I gulped."Don't' be so worried," she laughed. "We had unprotected sex one time. The odds are astronomical that an 'oops' happened, right?" Yes, it was a single sexual encounter, but included three firings of the one-eyed hydra, sigh."You are asking a man who has five children on the way, Fathom," I cautioned her."Oh, I'll update my files and make an appointment to seen a local, reliable O B G Y N," she slipped back into her unflappable British resolve. "Get along. I need to get cleaned up," she cupped my scrotum, ", again. So scoot." I scooted.I had updated my condom supply despite the forbiddance Dot Ishara, my Matron Goddess, beamed to me from the Other Side. She could only complain so much. I'd upped my selection of fortune cookies and added a fresh raisin chocolate brownie for my next visit with her. I had to get over to the other side of the floor to get a fresh shirt, and boxers.Yum-Yum had ripped off my shirt (a little kinky) and boxers (a little painful). I wasn't going commando, so I decided to quick step it before something important happened that required me to yank yet another solution out of my sexually-fueled creative imagination.How Lady Yum-Yum and I ended up in bedThe Secret Societies' long awaited war had begun in Africa and in India. The Amazons couldn't effectively reinforce these two homeland regions. No, my people's edge came from my stupid stunts (e.g., the fight outside that club in Chicago), the judicious application of a few kind words and a whole lot of targeted killing on my part along with that of my Amazons.Those actions convinced the Booth-gan (aka the Thuggee, but we no longer say that because it irritates them) and the Coils of the Serpent to toss in their lot with their local Amazons. They did the whole 'hostage exchange' thing as well. Two children from each side. That was a no-brainer on my part. All three concerned parties were willing to let their adults die if necessary. Their children were another matter.In Asia, the Seven Pillars had made only minimal progress. We now suspected the 7P had planned to roll over the three of the 9 Clans that were in their Sphere of Influence, the now 6 Ninja Families, the Black Lotus and the Booth-gan in rapid succession. A preemptive strike against both the Khanate and the Ninja were supposed to cripple those two factions.Against the Khanate, that had been a dismal failure. In Nippon, the Ninja were in dire straits and would be decades recovering from the original 7P blitz. But the combination of US black ops help and the infusion of Amazons and Okinawans had staved off extinction for the moment. Strategically, these failed actions were tying down 7P resources that the largest Secret Society had planned to move elsewhere.In China, the Black Lotus exhibited the same resilience and deceptiveness they'd shown in combating the Seven Pillars by themselves for the past 65 years. The chaos gripping the PRC was a blessing from the Ancestors, the four sacred spirits (lung/dragons, phoenix, unicorn and tortoise), and the nine entities (I now really had to know this stuff.) Word that a 'dragon' had appeared in the West had only heightened their desire to aid in our new alliance.Those factors meant a reprieve for India. As the 7 Pillars began ramping up their operations; increasing racial tensions, minor terrorist action and military and industrial sabotage; the Booth-gan and Amazon united resources and purpose. The Booth-gan would assassinate 7P operatives and pawns while the Amazons would hit 7P front companies and businesses based out of the People's Republic of China. (This activity also helped ratchet up India-PRC tensions and anti-PRC public sentiment in India.)In Africa, the Condotteiri had squandered precious hours reallocating resources before launching their assaults. Like everyone but the 7P, they had been caught flat-footed by the renewal of the Secret War. The Coils of the Serpent had never been overly antagonistic toward the Condos, since their interests rarely collided. The same went for the Coils and the Amazons.Two factors inspired a deep Amazon-Coil bond. They were both groups with deep African roots and a shared Central-Western African spirituality. Added to that was the growing power of the Coils of the Serpent in the past fifty years. Their main opponents had been the Illuminati who had a Eurocentric view. Pan-Africanism was in the Coil's best interest, but ran contrary to European economic interests.Long term, allying with the African Amazons was a good investment for the Coils. The 9 Clans relationships had already proved to be advantageous on multiple occasions in the past. The leaders of the Coils knew their power was rising with the fortunes of Sub-Saharan Africa. To them, the rise of the PRC and the Seven Pillars was a looming threat in the East.They had been handed a golden opportunity to deal with this enemy before the enemy was ready to deal with them. They had been 'gifted' with over 2000 highly-skilled, fanatical Amazon warriors as stealthy muscle to add to their own, more subtle arsenal. For the Amazons, it was access to continent wide clandestine intelligence network that could unmask their enemies' hiding places.The Condotteiri wiped out an Amazon freehold in Cameroon and a few Coils safe houses in Lagos, Nigeria. In the Republic of Mali, over 250 Condo mercenaries were slaughtered at a 'secret' installation and their armory was looted. Ebola kept breaking out in the West. The dominant regional powers, the Republic of the Congo and Nigeria, were tottering as a result of decades of economic mismanagement, civic, ethnic, tribal and religious strife, corruption and unreliable militaries.The scene was ripe for a secret conflict as well as public carnage. For the Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce (JIKIT), this presented a dilemma. They were involved with a growing global struggle that went far beyond the Khanate and Central Asia. Their secret society allies strenuously objected to bringing any more 'outsider' people into the group.Handing over covert intelligence to other governmental agencies in the US and UK, then telling them they wouldn't divulge their sources went over like scuba diving with cement goulashes. Explaining to upper level bigwigs that they had a 'trust-based' team went nowhere. Those officials didn't care about a bunch of domestic/international criminals' sensibilities.They wanted names and faces. They wanted addresses, phone taps and bank account numbers. It would all be 'Secret', 'Top Secret', or 'Eyes Only'. It would all be vulnerable to all kinds of governmental subpoenas too. No threats were made from 'my' side. They'd killed more people than the Black Death and the lives of a few thousand bureaucrats (and their families) in London and Washington D.C. didn't mean shit to them.Selena did offer to kidnap some family members to get the message across. Javiera put her hands over her ears and began singing 'la-la-la' as she stormed out of the room. Lady Fathom suggested that we arrange a private meeting with the UK Prime Minister and the US President. It took a few seconds for Mehmet and Javiera to realize she wasn't kidding.That was a nearly impossible task, which on this taskforce meant we had to give it a shot. Let's just say that the US Attorney General, Eric Holder and Chairman John Jay of the British Joint Intelligence Committee thought their respective representative had lost her God-damn mind. I went to the Khanate for help.Twenty-four hours later Azerbaijan, Turkey, Tajikistan, Armenia and Georgia (yes, two tiny Christian nations) joined the Khanate. The integration of the first two nations had been in the works since the formation of the Turkic Council in 2009. For me, Temujin upped the time table strictly for our benefit. Turkey and Azerbaijan became the two newest states within the Khanate.The third, Tajikistan was different and the shakiest addition. The unoccupied title of 'Khwarazm Shah' was created, suggesting the Iranian Tajiks had a special status inside the Khanate. 'Khwarazm' referenced the Khwarazmian dynasty that ruled the last of the great, Persian-led, Iranian Super-States and dated back to the 13th century AD. 'Shah' was Persian for King.The announced status of Armenia and Georgia was quite a bit different. They become 'Protectorates', i.e., semi-autonomous states within the Khanate who were 'vassal' states, responsible only to the Great Khan and his personal representative in the region (ah, that would be me.)So, the first three entries made sense, strong geographic, ethnic and/or religious ties, plus this was part of the Khanate's agenda anyway. But Armenia and Georgia? That was the doing of the other regional secret society, the Hashashin.The Caucasus Mountains were the backyard of the Hashashin. They knew who to blackmail, pinch and kill to make the 'take-over' possible. The main stumbling block was the long Khanate-Hashashin history: the Mongols had destroyed the historical stronghold of the Hashashin, Alamut, in 1256 CE. In a way, that disaster had transformed the sect, making it move away from their strict Nizārī Ismaili roots and into a more ethnically and religiously diverse group that was centered in the Caucasus region.Temujin made it clear to this group that he was making a deal under my auspices. Both Armenia and, Georgia (as well as the future Kurdistan, his plans for the creation of that last state were told to me under condition of secrecy) would be part of my palatinate principality (along with Hungary, if we ever got there). Riki Martin defined the terms for me: I was the voice of those three regions in the Khan's court.They wouldn't have to deal with Muslim Khanate officials. They would deal with me and 'my officials'. If the Khanate had a problem with my principality, they came to me to resolve the issue. That translated to me giving a nod to the existing regimes ruling in Armenia and Georgia (along with the infusion of a few Hashashin supporters.)Publically the future of those three political and ethnic entities would be confirmed later. The existing governments knew three things.1) I was that madman who had led the charge in Romania, clearly a man of bravery and humility. The odds were good that I was going to be a man they could rely on to adequately represent their interests with the government that currently mattered the most (aka The Khanate.)2) The Great Khan thought the world of me and in this nascent New World Order that meant way more than membership in NATO, or begging the United Nations to apply sanctions of dubious value.3) There would be a change of leadership by about 2040. Children of excellent ethnic parentage would succeed me in this ceremonial role in the region. These new princes and princesses would be the scions of the line of Nyilas and representatives of the various states (translation: I was going to be sexing it up with Georgian, Armenian and Kurdish members of the Hashashin).That would establish the three 'cadet' branches of House Ishara (Nyilas) (which I've listed because all three alphabets are so freaking beautiful) that could weave the Amazons, 9 Clans and the varying ethnic identities into a quilt that could stand together as a force in the Great Khan's inner circle. This new spate of aristocratic, 'Archer'-themed lineages would be:1.       Moisari, in Georgia.2.       Aġeġnajig, in Armenia.3.       Ram- alsham, in Kurdistan.This fiction made the key named entities happy. The combination of all these events applied another jolt to the heart of the global power structure (after all, Turkey was in NATO) and made the US and UK governments back off.By tidying up the world map, we'd brought our governmental chiefs to the chilling revelation that their sole conduit for insider information regarding the ongoing global calamity had reacted to their intransience by simply letting them be blind-sided by events. After the fact, Javiera and Lady Fathom relayed that message very clearly.

1.    You’ve heard us talking about what the State is doing in response to teen violence, what Gilbert isn’t doing and what the Gilbert PD didn’t know how to do.  It’s not just the Gilbert PD that’s under the microscope but for one Valley department, the future is looking a whole lot better.  You’ll find out why and what that means to your safety, on the Chris and Joe Show.

Taliyah.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. By lunchtime, she was beginning to feel somewhat selfish. Mikhail had been attentive with a totally unexpected devotion all morning long. While Taliyah was emotionally conflicted about her parent's most recent feuding, it was systematic of a much deeper rift she'd always felt among them. She'd always sensed it; as if something was missing in their lives.To be honest with herself, at first she'd been secretly pleased when Brandy's home life had imploded last summer. Not only had she found herself lusting for Darius over Rashaan, she'd long been envious of the seeming closeness between Big Bob and Jodi May. She'd felt furtive elation when Brandy's mom eloped with Senior Deputy Jenks, shattering the illusion of their happy household.Only later, as she saw the daily sadness in Big Bob, had she begun to regret her envy-driven vindictiveness. Unlike her own, rather distant Father, Big Bob Carson had always made Taliyah welcome in his home and with his daughter. His treatment of her had never jibed with the claims about the White man's supposed racism. In her home, they joked about him, yet she'd never heard Big Bob make a single racist slur in her presence.No, Brandy's Dad had treated her like his second daughter; even going so far to call out Brandy when she was being a bitch to her. As far back as elementary school, he'd made her feel as if Taliyah had a second house to call home; and then Taliyah had repaid his repeated kindness by taking perverse pleasure as his home fell apart. She'd watched Brandy fall into depravity under Darius' spell and said nothing.Taliyah wondered about the vagaries of karma. Brandy's family had been ripped apart and now so was hers. Brandy had found Vlad and now she had Mikhail. This morning, Brandy's mom had come back; and her Mom was here as well. But her Father was nowhere in evidence. Her Mother, Madam Mayor, hadn't mentioned him once.‘Taliyah,' Kaelyne disturbed her ruminations, ‘we're picking sides for volleyball.'Kaelyne was another transformative presence who had snuck into her life as of late. Her knee-jerk reaction when learning the little White girl had a lesbian crush on her was to lash out and mock her. That had infuriated Mrs. Samsonov, pain had rapidly followed. That old White bitch had forced Taliyah to apologize the next day.Over the rest of the following week Taliyah had found herself studying the way Kaelyne looked at her; and hadn't been repulsed. Still, until today she hadn't taken the lesbian's affections seriously. Kaelyne was sensitive to Taliyah's pain and~ compassionate without being obtrusive. Taliyah had responded with a lessening of her often acidic wit.With Brandy taking on solo duties as hostess, Taliyah had been able to recoup in the company of her boyfriend; and 'girlfriend'; thus the source of her guilt. According to Mrs. Samsonov's plan, Brandy and Taliyah had to share their guys with the rest of the Cheer Squad over the course of the day.From what they'd been told, it would keep the cheerleaders firmly out of the hands of the Football Team and other member of the 'Cult of the BBC'; as that racist, psychotic bitch, Gayle Samsonov, called it. And, from what Taliyah and Brandy could see, it made all the ones who had been with their fellas so far want them and only them; it was spooky and somewhat frustrating to watch because Mikhail was her man, damn it!Not in the way Rashaan had been her man because Rashaan hadn't even been his own man, just another pawn of Darius Pope's little high school empire; like her and Brandy. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to the youngest triplet's fierce independence. He was harder to influence than Rashaan had been; which wasn't quite so.She could, in private, convince Rashaan to do things, plan things and stand up for himself, but all the results of her efforts evaporated when he was around Darius; and now she realized that would always be the case for someone like Rashaan. He was good looking and could project leadership, but there was never anything behind it. No drive. No great willpower to overcome any real opposition; and most likely, there never would be.With Mikhail; God! He was so different. Sure he was infuriating, but Taliyah found herself able to cut loose around him; to pop him one when she felt he was doing something stupid; and it wasn't as if he even minded. Oh no, that didn't mean he'd acquiesce, far from it. Normally he'd laugh and evade, taunting her. Yet, that was the way he'd grown up around his brothers and Taliyah was beginning to figure out he was allowing her to treat him the same way; that was was something special.He and his brothers were rough-n-tumble. They had a code for their fighting. While their Code didn't make the inevitable conflicts any less brutal, it at the same time expressed ample fair play, honesty and integrity. And afterwards; there was never any ill will between them. They fought and shit got settled; and Taliyah liked that. That Mikhail allowed her to lay into him was, according to his Mamma, very intimate and personal; and Taliyah was coming to appreciate this fact.‘Mikhail, why don't you and Kaelyne teach my 'Sisters' on the Cheer Squad some manners,' she touched his hand. They were side by side at the counter in the kitchen, him finishing off a few carrot slices while she drank some Gatorade. ‘I need to talk to my Mamma; alone.' Mikhail gave her a brief eye contact, nodded once, and then turned to leave.‘Kaelyne,' she found herself reaching out, stroking the girl's cheek and rubbing her earlobe, ‘Thank you.' The way the smaller woman positively glowed gave Taliyah a spike of pride. She still didn't think she was into girls, but she'd been showering with Brandy since before they were teenagers. A few times Brandy had ran her hands curiously over her darker friend's skin, wishing she tanned so well.In turn, Taliyah had run her hands through Brandy's long, blonde hair, feeling the difference between its silky texture and her own, coarser locks and wishing her hair was so easy to manage. The two girls, lifelong friends, had never considered their behavior anything which 'made them gay'. They were curious and comfortable in each other's presence was all.Taliyah pushed herself away from the counter, turned and dismounted her stool. She'd put up a wall against the World all morning long and she knew she was better than that. She'd wanted her Mother to come and talk to her; to talk to her about her Father; her Mother's husband; and what she was going to do about fixing things. Her Mamma was always the responsible one in the family and had taught her daughter to be the same way. Somehow; her Mamma had to make this right.Le ‘Pearl' Yates.For Le it had been a wild, chaotic week. Things had started out so bad, but not in a way the other girls in the Cheer Squad would have understood. Monday morning, like most of the others; except Brandy and Taliyah; she had been seriously jonesing for some BBC. Hell, unlike every other member of the squad, getting the best cock was why she'd fought so hard to be selected as one of the school's elite bitches in the first place.She hadn't always been that way.Le had been a late bloomer. Worse, she'd never been part of any crowd while growing up. Her Vietnamese-American Mother had come to Kingston from the Texas Gulf Coast to be a nurse. Her Father, the White guy her Mother married, was an oilman working in the Gulf of Mexico months at the time.He was really happy when his wife told him she was pregnant. His company even flew him to Arkansas when she went into delivery early. Let's just say his reaction when he held 'his' daughter wasn't all that joyous. He divorced her a year later and Le had only seen him a few times since. Things had been; tense.It took her a few years to figure out she wasn't like anyone else. Her Mother's extended family, fisher-folk back in Texas, always treated her badly and the younger ones called her names, which was why her Mom had returned to Kingston after a few years. When she was six, she finally figured out she was a 'half-breed' and not in a 'good way'. No White blood had 'watered' down her complexion.Her eyes were product of her Mother's Vietnamese heritage while her nose was from West Africa. He skin was darker than her Mother's, not lighter, and she was much taller, at 5'9', and a compact 112 lbs. Her ass was 'black enough', but her chest was 'too Asian' as in she clearly had the smallest bra size on the team.At the age of eight she'd finally asked her rather traditional Mother who her 'real' Daddy was. On her twelfth birthday, her Mother, after years of badgering, finally broke down and told Le the story. She'd been 'seduced' by a groundsman on the A S U Kingston campus while her 'White' Daddy had been away for months and months at sea. He'd been a smooth operator, her Mother told her.'But why isn't that man my Father now?' she'd pressed her Mother. She'd graduated to referring to the nebulous sperm donor as Father when she was ten. Her Mother hung her head in shame then confessed the Black bastard hadn't wanted her. When she'd told him she was pregnant with what was most likely his child, he'd seemed happy at first.Only as she got 'bigger', things had changed. One day she stumbled upon him cheating with another nursing student. She'd exploded in tears. After the 'new' girl had fled, he 'confessed' he had yet another girl pregnant and two other kids by two other women; and it was over between them. He dumped her.So, her Mother had prayed somehow Le would be born without her White Father figuring out her betrayal; but that hadn't worked out either. She even gave Le the sperm donor's name, Claude Sexton. It turned out Le had sixteen half-brothers and –sisters (by five different women) and he was currently serving time in prison for pharmaceutical theft. Claude's Mamma, her Granny, claimed he was 'not guilty' and some jealous bitch (usually White in her rantings) had set him up;What had fascinated Le though was the 'why' of her Mother's betrayal of her White 'Father'. The few times she'd met him he'd seemed nice. He had remarried, still made good money and had two other, White, children these days. He had never been cruel to her Mother as far as her Mother had ever revealed; so why had she jumped on some Black cock and risked such a profitable union?At the age of twelve, Le was still gangly and under-developed. Puberty was late to the party. Shortly after her Mom's revelation, she began looking at the Black boys at school differently. They were still going from the phase of teasing and bullying girls (and being teased and bullied by some of the bigger girls) to sending the ladies looks of hungry confusion.No guys ever looked at Le that way back then; but suddenly she wanted them to. When she entered High School, she was 'introduced' to the Cheer Squad / Football Team dynamic. All the hottest Black guys and most beautiful girls (Black and White) belonged to that top social tier; and she had no hope of getting in the way she was.She also had another niggling problem. She was smart and unfortunately, smart girls were Not what those two groups were looking for.But, Le had a Plan. First off, she took up a paper route to make enough money to join the Dance School; because the Cheerleaders always seemed to pick the Hot girls with dance experience; and her Mother couldn't afford to send her with what she made.Secondly, she began purposely getting 25 to 35% of all her homework and test answers wrong. Le had to lower her academic profile starting her freshman year so hopefully no one would remember how smart she had been in Middle School. She added to this deception by telling everyone her name was 'Pearl', even the teachers, and always wearing long pig tails because she thought it fed into the ‘Cutesy' Asian stereotype; and they bought it.Lastly, she began working on her physique and fashion sense to make herself more noticeable to the people who really mattered. Her body's natural development helped. Belatedly her hormones kicked in and her breast began to get bigger. Of equal importance, with all her exercise and dedication her 'lower chasse' began getting the boy's notice. When their eyes finally got to her face, they also noticed how exotically different she was.She enjoyed the first touching; and kissing. She also knew the unspoken rules: Don't be a skank and put out for just anybody. The Football Team only selected the most choice ladies and that included the ones they didn't consider 'total whores'; thus their exclusive property.She lucked out by having Randi Leigh Upshaw befriend her. Randi Leigh's mother had been a cheerleader back in the day and was currently a school booster and member of the PTA. Sure, Randi Leigh was a condescending, manipulative bitch, but she opened doors into social circles which would have been far harder to breach as an outsider.And all that degradation and hard work had paid off when the old Cheer Squad Team Captain handed her a cheer uniform, welcomed her to the team and then introduced her to her first gang-bang. Five long hours afterwards, the smiling Captain gave her a 'Morning After' pill and told her were to go to get her I U D. She'd been taking BBC five / six times a week ever since and loving it; her Mother's infidelity finally understood.Until, for some bizarre reason, Brandy and Taliyah, this year's Co-Captains, had decided to launch an utterly unlooked for and unwanted rebellion against Darius Pope; Football God and one of the best cocks on the team. Le had been blind-sided, as had all of the other cheerleaders. The only two questions were how much hell was Darius going to put those two through for their impertinence and who would end up in the top spot once he was done.But then Darius and six other footballers (including two of the other best cocks in Le's estimation) were destroyed in the school parking lot after a game. Her whole world appeared to crumble and changed. Randi Leigh; idiotically; threw herself at Rashaan as if he could somehow assume Darius' mantle. Le initially supported her because at least Randi Leigh promised a return to the glorious days of orgies and bukkake cum baths.Wednesday morning, it hadn't taken a telepath, or that guy from Psych, to figure out something serious had happened to both Randi Leigh and Sultana (the other challenger). Randi Leigh couldn't even keep Betty Jo Sterling (her other supporter) in line and poor Betty Jo was easily amused by a laser pointer and kitten emojis for God's sake!All that led to her being highly suspicious of Taliyah luring her, Vantrice Kirby and Mia Ryker to the Music Room during Lunch Thursday. Taliyah had told them the whole team was meeting yet when Le surreptitiously checked her iPhone App, only Brandy's phone was close by. She was actually kind of terrified some sort of beat-down was in the offing when they stumbled in and found;; Mikhail and Vlad Samsonov reclining on the piano cover with a sexual sated; no, devastated, Brandy Crystal Carson curled up between them. Le knew what 'fucked stupid' looked like and Brandy definitely qualified. Vantrice and Mia began protesting (these 'boys' weren't on the Football Team). Le was busy putting 'A' together with 'B' then 'C'.In this case: (A) Brandy and Taliyah's sudden defiance, (B) Randi Leigh and Sultana's sudden cessation of (serious) resistance and now (C) Brandy's obvious physical pleasure radiating out for all to see. Le's ever-present blow-pop nearly fell out of her mouth in shock. Whatever her other two teammates (Vantrice and Mia) were thinking, Le knew she had to have 'some of that'.‘Which one is for me?' she had turned to Taliyah, her carefully crafted 'silly little Asian girl' façade momentarily slipping. Taliyah grinned like the sly fox she thought she was.‘Mikhail is mine, but I can share,' she purred as she began to strip. Even as she joined Taliyah in removing her clothing, Le did her own eyeball math. Mikhail was definitely more intrigued with Vantrice than either her, or Mia.How did she know the difference between the two triplets? Well, anyone who thought it was Mikhail beaten up by Darius' people, not Alexander, was a fool. Darius wouldn't have made that error. Otherwise, Mikhail was looking at them like a starving wolf staring at pieces of meat; or sheep. Vlad's eyes kept flickering down to Brandy in something a less romantic person could confuse with love. She headed toward Vlad.‘Can you make me happy like Brandy?' Le sashayed toward the middle triplet, socially shedding 60 IQ points along the way. Boys liked them dumb, right?‘Le,' he smiled; not leered, ‘I think I can make you your own kind of happy,' he volleyed back. Okay, that second part was kind of sappy, but he actually recalled her real first name which hadn't happened in over a year.‘Pearl, stop that,' Vantrice got indignant. ‘These White boys; ‘‘I want to look like Brandy,' Le looked over her shoulder. ‘Don't you?'Vantrice stuttered, Mia was indecisive, Taliyah clearly wasn't going to let them bolt without a struggle and Mikhail was closing in to help.‘Sorry Mia, but I have a hunger for Black chicks,' he moved the blonde aside.‘What?' from Mia.‘Huh?' from Vantrice and;‘Best watch yourself, Mister,' from Taliyah, all aimed at Mikhail. Le opted to focus on Vlad who was certainly fixated on her.‘I want to taste,' she settled down beside him, reaching for his delicious looking piece of man-meat.‘How about we '69'?' he offered.‘I like the way you think,' she glowed. Normally they didn't give her the option. Le put her blow-pop on a desk then went to work.‘Eep!' she squeaked as he effortlessly picked her up and laid her out beside Brandy. He took a few licks of her vulva then;‘Mia, come over here,' he beckoned the blonde girl who seemed to be at loose ends. Le was too busy exploring the texture and taste of his glans and shaft. It was her first White cock; she'd had thicker; yet she felt it would be more than enough to satisfy if Vlad's stamina equaled his dimensions;‘Lay down beside her,' Vlad had directed Mia. She still seemed uncertain and Le wanted to keep Vlad happy for the nonce, so she reached up, took Mia by the hand and gently pulled her to her side.‘Ah; ‘ Mia began purring. Vlad must have been physically stimulating her with his right hand even as his mouth and left hand pleasured her. Damn; Vlad knew his stuff.The real magic began when, after she let him know she was ready; which had always been the reason for guys going down on her, to get her engine running; Vlad had gone to town on her cunt. He licked, tongue-twirled and nibbled her clit, put three fingers into her snatch and, after some teasing, another in her ass. She'd never had a guy pet her G-spot before, but Vlad did.Her inarticulate utterances weren't new, but more protracted than she was used to. She recovered quickly, yet not quickly enough to stop her new lover from moving on to Mia who gladly let him go down on her as well. Le had propped herself up and begun to look around when she noticed a reclining Brandy studying the three of them.‘That felt nice, really nice,' she communicated after a few seconds.‘Don't I know it,' Brandy sighed. She didn't seem to be unhappy with her, or Vlad. There was a pregnant pause as Vlad continued to devote himself to Mia's gratification. ‘All three triplets are wonderful, but I think I've got the best one.'‘Are we ever going to be with the Football Team again?' Le'd wondered.‘Hmmm; ‘ Brandy frowned then, ‘Vlad, Pearl isn't convinced.'And then he'd gone and 'convinced' her, which had been odd. For a moment, when he returned to her, he'd seemed distracted, or put out. Once he made eye contact, Le felt as if their whole world contracted down to just the two of them.Or that was how it had been recalled by Le later as she tried to remember every erotic murmur, sensuous movement, whispered word and tantalizing slap of flesh against flesh. They hadn't fucked. They had made love and until Vlad, she hadn't know the difference. It was sex; but with the difference being she felt he really gave a damn, and not only about how she felt right then, but how she felt, period. It had been so different; and exciting; and so worth repeating.Which brought her back to today, at Brandy's house, playing around the pool and trying not to pull Vlad aside for another round of whatever he had done to her. Le had been trying to figure out this new pecking order and how to best profit from it. She wasn't so egotistical she thought she could steal Vlad away from Brandy; she accepted Brandy had more of the feminine traits which drew Vlad's eyes.Then there was the ravenous way Randi Leigh regarded the young man when she thought Brandy wasn't keeping an eye on her. The way Betty Jo and Alondra teased him was even;‘You spend a whole bunch of time watching what other people are doing,' was whispered into her ear. Le nearly tumbled off the recliner she'd been using.She was able to catch her blow-pop before it fell out of her mouth with judicious use of her lips thus buying her a little more time and stopping her from gasping in fear. Mrs. Samsonov had snuck up on her.‘Ma; Ma; Mrs. Samsonov? Huh?' she was a bit too slow on the comeback.‘You can call me Gayle,' the crouched, mature lady regarded her; much like a feral cat gazing at a frightened field mouse.‘Ah; okay, Gayle,' she hammed it up with a cute tilt of the head. The older woman's eyes narrowed.‘I am beginning to think you aren't quite as dumb as you pretend to be,' Gayle murmured. ‘Now why would that be?'‘What be?' Le played along. Mrs. Samsonov's look became downright menacing.‘I don't like being played for the fool,' she whispered. ‘I'm real sure Vlad and his brothers will be even less amused.'Then, in a flash, the triplet's mother stood and smiled down at her, though Le could sense the humor didn't touch her eyes, or her words. ‘Have fun this weekend, Pearl. Act dumb around school if you like, but my children and I don't have time for such games.'‘I; Mrs.; Gayle, why; how did you figure it out?' Le's protests went from lame to a whisper. When denial was clearly no longer an option, she wanted to know what she'd done to give herself away.Gayle studied her for a few; very long; seconds.‘Smart people can act stupid, but stupid people can't act smart. That being said, really dumb people have bad body posture, often have their mouths open when they don't know what to say; not your candy; and don't react when they themselves say stupid shit,' Gayle enlightened her.‘You make simple statements, but not stupid ones; like Alondra and Betty Jo do. They stay stupid things while you don't. True, they are dumber than most, but they are the ones you are trying to model yourself after, failing, and failing in a manner a suitably observant person can pick up on. After all, for the past two years, how many guys, or girls, have wanted to test your conversational skills?'Le was taken aback at how helpful the older lady was and began taking mental notes.‘Are you; how angry are you with me?' Le worried.‘We accept you've had to deal with different social factors at Davis Consolidated (High School) before we came here. Choices you made last year and before now are in the past. If you don't want to learn from your mistakes, that's on you.'‘If we change?'‘You are no longer cum dumps for the Football Teams. You are the Supreme Female Social Organization with the Samsonov boys making sure you won't be abused, or used as sexual trophies.‘But there still will be sex?' Le gulped. Gayle Samsonov's countenance was downright savage.‘Would you do every member of the Football Team, or just my Vlad?' she posed the question (trap). Le really liked the Football gangbangs, blowjobs and bukkake sessions. Her hunger to embrace the madness which had turned her Mother away from her (White) Father and brought her (Le) into existence came into conflict with her desire to recapture the personal experience she'd shared with Vlad.‘Isn't he mostly interested in Brandy?'‘He's devoted to Brandy, but Brandy will let him spend time with you as long as you support Brandy and Taliyah; plus you keep Vlad's interest because it is the right thing to do,' Mrs. Samsonov explained. Le wasn't used to thinking of either Brandy, or Taliyah, as magnanimous, except;‘Do Brandy and Taliyah confide in you?' Le made an educated leap. Of course, Taliyah's mother was opposed to all things Fonteneau; but here she was, chaperoning the same party, and Brandy had been utterly under Darius' spell at the start of the year; yet clearly was now madly devoted to Gayle's middle son.Gayle's grin lost some of its hostile quality.‘Clever indeed.'Le gave a shy smile in response.‘Enjoy the weekend, Pearl. Open up to Vlad if you get the chance. He's not intimidated by smart women, he likes reading; not as much as sex, but he's still happy to learn; and teach,' Gayle imparted. As she walked away, Le had to wonder how her whole world had transformed; no; evolved. She hoped it was evolving into something much more intriguing than what they were all surrendering. She jumped up and ran to catch up with the older woman. There was so much more she could learn.Victoria ‘Mad Vicky' Orem.‘Come on, Alexander, join us beating up these cheerleader-bitches,' Vicky pleaded with the oldest Samsonov triplet. She'd scampered over to him because her team needed the help and she wasn't sure Kaelyne would be able to return with Mikhail (and Taliyah) from inside.Currently it was her, Kaelyne, Vlad, Sgt. Louisa Petrakis (the State Cop) and Ms. Blanchard versus Missy Brandy, Sultana, Noémie Lucie, Amber Lee and Misty Dawn. With the size, or lack thereof, of herself and Kaelyne, the plan was to replace Ms. Blanchard and the Sarge with Mikhail and/or Alexander.‘I'm still busted up,' he grinned up at her.‘Oh, come on. Don't be a wimp,' she teased him, her fists on her thin, boney hips and thrust out her small chest. Her brand new white, string bikini shown on her tan-less body with the top being so conservative with the fabric it consisted of little more than two tringles kept together by their tie strings. If only she'd had more than 'A' cup sized boobs to fill them;‘Well, if you can pull me up, I'll do my best,' he conceded. Sure, she was 90 lbs. soaking wet while he was 220 lbs., but Vicky was fearless and determined to avenge the earlier pool massacre. She yanked, yanked, made some progress then went for a two hand grip on his left hand. Alexander reversing things, lightning-quick and pulled her down across his body, catching her by surprise.‘Hey!' she protested quite vocally.‘I'd like to kiss you,' Alexander requested passionately.Shock, pleasure, leaning down into Alexander; and nipping his nose.‘Ow,' he complained.‘Took you long enough,' Vicky teased him.Alexander's sudden, expressive and very public sign of affection had been the last thing she'd expected. Yes, they had exchanged sexually charged barbs and erotic innuendo for the past few days; but honestly, Vicky had felt the Samsonov she craved was beyond her. She Knew all the cheerleaders were better looking and even Kaelyne had bigger boobs. Even the 'old ladies' were disappointingly curvaceous, busty and intriguing; at least to the guys.‘Am I going to get that kiss?' Alexander brightened up.‘I don't know,' she vaulted onto his recliner so she ended up straddling his stomach just above the top of his trunks. ‘I kinda like the idea of sexually torturing you,' she added as she sat down; on him.‘Vicky!' Kaelyne reappeared out of the house with Mikhail. ‘Are you two coming?'‘Ocupado!' Vicky triumphantly pronounced. Only then, with her palms placed on Alexander's muscular pectorals, did she lean in for that kiss.‘Yippee!' Kaelyne whooped back. She truly was Vicky's best friend.‘Hey Vicky, don't break him,' Mikhail added in his own teasing.‘I make no promises,' Vicky shot back loudly and proudly. In reality, she had zero sexual experience. She had just had her first kiss; which was warm, wet and wonderful; and she was totally virgin.Vicky had never fit in, battled with ADHD most of her life and had never felt the desire to conform to any of the norms of Kingston, or Davis County. Her hair was always off-color, her only true friend was a shy, introverted, gun-loving lesbian nearly as physically under-developed as she was and, despite the oft-promise of pain, she'd never knuckled under to the bullies.Her musical tastes were unknown bands from other continents and she despised the Sports Religion, so she had expected to serve out her High School years in social exile; but the arrival of the Samsonov's had changed all that. Now she was at a Pool Party with the Cheer Squad; even though as an addendum to Kaelyne; and sexually taunting one hunk of a guy.They kissed twice more before Vicky began serpentining down his body. Lips caressed Alexander's chin, Adam's apple and sternum. Awkwardly, she reached a hand between them and between her spread legs, patting her partner's swimsuit. It took him a few seconds to figure out what Vicky was searching for.‘Umm,' he coughed, somewhat embarrassed. Vicky was turning out to be far more physically aggressive than he'd assumed. ‘It has; ah; expanded down my left leg.'‘Oh!' Vicky popped up, giving Alexander a wicked grin like some demented pixie. ‘Thanks.'She was doubly pleased. He was both not so offended as to be put off plus he was aroused. Check that; triply pleased! Alexander's Baloney Pony Was Huge! (In her inexperienced estimation). She grabbed that manly earthworm and began maneuvering it 'due north'. Soon it was rubbing beneath her covered vulva. Wiggling on it felt wonderful.Alexander's moan was almost as pleasing.‘Oh; ‘ she taunted him, ‘does someone like that?'Alexander gave two, pained nods.What 'Mad Vicky' lacked in real world expertise she compensated for with a rich, diverse and ignored 'For 18+' warning labels, internet history.She pushed herself up slowly, adding an extra twist to her wicked grin when Alexander's eyes flickered to her bikini-top covered assets. Her own quick assessment revealed that while her breasts remained small, her puffy areolas and thick, stubby nipples were flushed with blood and making indentations against her scanty covering. As she kept pushing up, Vicky couldn't help but feel victorious.She had Alexander's cock angling toward his belly button (with the tip no longer contained by his trunks) which had the added benefit of the muscle separating her labia (though equally under wraps). Damn, it felt fine! Vicky was now perpendicular to Alexander's reclining form. Her guy / victim was totally focused on her. The only thing which could make things better was to; He he he he; rub it in.Vicky raised her arms over her head, fingers interlocked then began gyrating and rocking back and forth on his aroused rod.‘Oh Yeah!' she exulted. Things only got better.After a few cycles, Alexander propped himself up with his right elbow and reached out with his left hand, placing it just below her right breast.Vicky figured he was testing her reactions. She was positively luminescent. The oldest Samsonov triplet took that as permission to move three fingers up so he could began playing with her erect nipple through her top. That felt so fine, too. The better, kept getting better.‘Hey!' Misty Dawn Sizemore protested. ‘What's that little freak doing with our guy?'Yep! Vicky's soul soared. She'd stolen a guy the cheerleaders wanted. She was doing her rendition of a barrel-riding/pole-dancing girl routine on top of him for all of those bitches to see. And the better just kept on coming.‘You like?' she resumed her taunting. Alexander nodded again. His words were unexpected.‘I really like your body, Vicky,' he expressed with such genuine openness and innocent trust it caused the tiny temptress to pause.‘You do, don't you?' she barely annunciated.‘Yeah. These nipples look absolutely delicious, you have this pert, tight little ass that wiggles every time you take a bouncing step and your smile is luminous, Vicky. Has no one has ever told you that before?'She digested his compliments and more before deciding he both was not playing her and was really, really sweet.‘No,' she added a little extra wiggle, ‘You would be the first.' Pause. ‘So, you like watching my ass?'‘Behave,' Gayle Samsonov shouted from across the pool. She and Pearl Yates were walking together down to the lawn set aside for the volleyball match.So many replies;‘But I don't want to,' Vicky faux-whined. ‘He's so yummy.'‘I wasn't talking to you, Vicky. I was warning my eldest,' Gayle laughed.‘I don't want to, Ma,' Alexander joined the protest. ‘She's so yummy!'‘Don't make me come over there,' Gayle stopped and shook her finger in their direction. Alexander flopped down and groaned. He even draped his left elbow over his eyes.‘Does this mean we stop?' Vicky get gyrating on his cock.‘I'm afraid so. Going against my Ma is dangerous. Her mean-streak is legendary among those lucky enough to be left alive,' he moaned. ‘Trust me, Vicky' he moved his arm so they were making long, in depth eye contact once more, ‘I'll get you later.'‘What about all the other girls?' she play-pouted. She was really loving this banter.‘Can I leave it at 'Mom's evil plan requires me and my Brothers to romance the Cheer Squad'; please?' Alexander frowned. Vicky wanted to know more. Accepting anything with blind obedience wasn't in her. ‘You are the one who engages me. I confess I didn't see you right away. I had some other crap on my mind, but I see you now and I'm honest about really liking what you're showing.'Pause.‘You are still going to fuck me, right?' she ground her crotch down on his cock.‘Hell yeah,' he coughed. ‘Can't you feel how hard you are making me?'‘Teehee,' Vicky giggled. ‘Just don't go all around school bragging about it,' she reiterated an earlier exchange they'd shared. ‘I'm not that kind of girl.' Total Lie.‘As I recall you are a 'write her name on the bathroom stalls' kind of girl,' he laughed.Vicky snickered.‘Don't make me have to tattoo my name on your dick,' she faux-threatened.‘Ouch,' Alexander winched. ‘Have I told you how much I adore your ass?'‘And my eyes,' she preened. She gave his cock one more vigorous circuit of stimulation then dismounted. ‘Let's go play volleyball before your Mamma has to come back up here and kick my adorable little ass.'‘How about we go down and you sit in my lap as we watch?' he offered instead. ‘I'm kind of still in a great deal of pain. Cracked ribs and all.'‘Fine,' Vicky began pulling the large man-boy up, ‘Kaelyne and I will tag in and out because, while I like that dick, I still want to kick some cheerleader ass.'‘Are you any good at volleyball,' he asked as they hobbled down to the gathering, his left arm draped over her shoulders.‘Never played before in my life. I rocked at tetherball in Kindergarten. How much harder can this be?' Vicky joked.Alexander snorted. Vicky was soaking up the jealous, angry looks being sent her way as she helped him approach. Would she pay for her usurpation later? Most likely, but the promise of retribution from those who thought they were better than her had never stopped her before; and they certainly weren't going to stop her now. This was turning out to be one of the best days of her life.Taliyah and Dominique.Taliyah found her Mother in the Carson's den running her finger over various books on the shelf while drinking a tall glass of 'something'.‘Mamma, how are you going to fix this?' she started off. Dominique looked over her shoulder then slowly turned around, a rather unhappy look on her face.‘Baby, there is no fixing what's wrong with your Daddy and I.'‘Mamma!' Taliyah shouted.

Requiem.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Once more, our esteemed academic Captain, Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges, led us through a rather confused and unhappy post-game liturgy in honor of; well in support of racial unity, I guessed. It was really hard to tell with the way he would ramble off-point every few minutes. The Football Team was in chairs on the floor of the gym with the Cheer Squad and Student Government. The rest of the student body was squeezed into the bleachers; very cozy.The Special Investigator also spoke briefly to the assembly, asking for our help on the case. The school was also hiring a 'Racial Grievance Counselor' who was, surprise, surprise, Dr. Nubia Franklin Jean-Georges; our Principal's wife. I was kind of curious who was making the school system pony up the money for her services as well as precisely when the 'interview' process had taken place.‘I wonder if she's qualified,' Kaelyne whispered.‘I wonder where they are going to stick her,' Vicky mused.‘Oh, I imagine she is going to get 'stuck' alright,' Mikhail snickered beneath his hand. Oh yeah, she was statuesque, smart, Black and projected complete confidence; right up my youngest triplets' alley.‘Ow,' he play-protested after Kaelyne smacked him.‘I did that for Taliyah,' she declared.‘She'll appreciate that,' I promised.‘I know she will,' Kaelyne smiled at me. After that disastrous Monday, Taliyah had been making steady headway in gaining Kaelyne's forgiveness which showed both her character (it was the right thing to do) and smarts (fear of my Mom).‘So; Alexander, what kind of bathing suit should I wear tomorrow?' Vicky teased our eldest.‘One made out of edible body paint,' he turned and winked. ‘Big Bob is gone all weekend to some Sheriff's convention in Miami, Florida. He goes to it every year.' Alexander being sexy-nice to Vicky was Also a good sign for our upcoming weekend.A withering glance from the Coach stilled our conversation. It was bad enough we were 'disrespecting' Darius' shindig. Our team had gotten their asses handed to them tonight in a game they should have won even without our star Running Back. It was easy to see having his father face criminal charges and loss of employment had shaken up Rashaan.His first outing as Team Captain had been a disaster; and now he had to sit here and listen to the various tributes to the guy he'd failed to replace instead of going anywhere else and getting shit-faced drunk and laid. The prognosis for both were pretty grim too,; what with the law enforcement being extra vigilant and the Cheer Squad being surprisingly inattentive to the Football Team's needs; which he was also getting blamed for.Darius had not only provided his players with victories, he had provided them status and perks as the premier athletes at school with the heritage of multiple highly successful teams being handed to them. Everyone 'looked the other way' because they were on the Football Team. All the girls wanted to be with them. Their parties always had plenty of alcohol and weed. They got good grades with minimal, if any, studying. Life had been good.Rashaan was having a horrific time maintaining that legacy. Not only could he not supply for his team, he couldn't even keep his own house in order. He had gone from 'three' hot-ass bitches (running true to type, the BBCs still refused to believe Taliyah had left him for Mikhail a week ago but now she, Sultana Berry and Randi Leigh Upshaw were openly gone) to none.Sure, they could still get 2nd and 3rd tier 'skanks', but just seeing all that prime booty walking around and knowing it Should be theirs and wasn't really bothered those student-athletes. A further complication was that under Darius, he kept the prime cunt specifically regulated both coming and going. That way the boys didn't have to worry about condoms, pregnancies and STDs.He kept the players clean by keeping the mouths, asses and vaginas they were fucking clean. No player stuck his cock into an unauthorized hole because if you did, Darius would destroy you. The object was to fuck who you wished in a safe hunting ground. Rashaan couldn't keep that level of discipline among either the women, or his own teammates.Rashaan also couldn't keep the booze and weed freely flowing. Darius hadn't shared his drug pipeline and wasn't likely to. Rashaan wasn't even trusted with the names of the entities capable and willing to buy and distribute alcohol to the under 21 crowd, plus Sheriff Big Bob's deputies were on the lookout for such shenanigans; more than happy to slap the cuffs on anyone 'Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor'.As a final blow, his dad was no longer Chief of Police. Sure, he was being promised that ruling would soon be reversed; but for Rashaan, it was yet another blow landing at an unfortunate time. His problems weren't mine, and I had more than enough of my own. He'd have to sink, or swim, on his own.We were released at 10:37 pm; far past the time for any of us to have any fun. The Cheer Squad angled for us as we left the bleachers with Taliyah looking particularly livid. A few football players were making a nuisance of themselves, but I sensed her troubles ran deeper.‘Hey, Betty Jo,' one of our linemen tried to separate out the pale-haired blonde, ‘let's head out and party.' Two more moved to put a wall between my brothers and her.‘I'm tired,' she complained.‘You'll feel better soon,' he promised.‘Without your help,' I grumbled. I wedged between the two, they put their hands on me and then Mikhail and Alexander drove fingers into each of their Solar Plexus. With them temporarily gasping for air, we put a perimeter around the other ladies while I put an arm around Betty Jo's waist.‘Boy,' the athlete hissed, ‘you best let go of this piece of ass.'Betty Jo's eyes flashed from him to me, caught between shame and hunger.‘I'm not a boy, your boy, or anyone, but my parent's boy,' I hardened. ‘I'd appreciate it you never demean Betty Jo like you just did either.'‘Is there a problem?' a White Deputy working his way through the crowd called out.‘This ain't over, Peckerwood,' the lineman snarled under his breath.‘Thanks for the warning, Dumbo,' I mocked him. He had big ears.‘It is Greg, Shithead,' he corrected me angrily.‘Separate; you two,' the Deputy demanded.‘Yes, officer,' I backed off. I had the girl which was the important thing.‘Vlad?' Brandy cuddled up to me as we left the auditorium.‘All's good,' I assured her. ‘Normal threats and insults. Nothing more.'‘Betty Jo; are you okay?' she turned her attention to the woman I was escorting along.‘Oh, I'm okay. Greg wanted to talk with me, but I'm not really interested in him anymore,' and then she smiled over at Alexander.‘He doesn't do it you for anymore?' Brandy teased.‘Who?' Betty Jo pursed her lips.‘Greg; the defensive tackle.'‘Oh him!' she seemed surprise. She was Alondra's cross-racial twin alright. ‘Yeah. He and the other guys just want to push and pump me; it feels so; boring really.'‘Not like Alexander?' Brandy led her along.‘Oh no!' she exulted. ‘Alexander makes me feel all tingly; and he doesn't call me bitch, or whore, or nothing like that,' she tacked on.The crowd was dissipating as we moved into the Parking Lot.Alexander was in the lead with Vicky and Alondra on either side should he need support. Mikhail was slightly detached off to my left, arm around Taliyah, deep in conversation with her. His normal cheerful carelessness was gone, replaced by a serious mein. Kaelyne was behind Alex, with the other cheerleaders spread out between us. At the rear of our clump, herding us along, was; Mom and Jewel; huh?They were chatting amiably, one adult to another, not a teenager to a mother. That worried me for reasons I couldn't pinpoint. A little tug from Brandy reminded me where I was suppose to be paying attention.‘Some of the girls are coming over tonight,' she murmured seductively.‘The only one I want to be with is you,' I frowned.A million mega-lumens-bright smile flashed across Brandy's face.‘Not bored with me?'‘How would that ever even be possible?' I gasped.More pure, unfiltered happiness from my Lady.‘You make me very happy, Vlad,' she snuggled in.‘Ditto, Princess,' I kissed the top of her head.‘Hey,' Betty Jo interrupted. ‘Are you anything like your brother?' (?? because, ya know, we were only identical triplets??)‘We are triplets, Betty Jo,' I instructed. ‘We are identical; in all physical regards.'‘Does that mean your dick is just as big?' she asked with innocent intent.‘Yes,' Brandy confirmed. ‘Yes, it is.'‘Oh; nice,' she smiled at Brandy.‘Betty Jo, why don't we get your stuff and head out?' Brandy suggested. Betty Jo left my side with that smile still on her lips. ‘Will I see you tonight?' Brandy directed my way.‘I'll try,' I grinned.‘Okay,' she winked then off she went to round up the others. Mikhail brushed passed me, going the other way; toward Mom.‘I'll be hanging out with Taliyah tonight, Mom,' he addressed our maternal unit.‘Is there a problem?' she studied him. Jewel was silently observant.‘I'm eighteen, tomorrow isn't a school day and I don't have any chores to do I'm aware of,' he ticked off his salient points.‘Why don't you say 'hello' to Ms. Lafontanté?' Mom was falsely polite.‘Hey, Jewel,' his words were brutally sparse of emotion.‘Hey, Mikhail,' she was somewhat amused.‘Hey, Vlad,' she was a tad more polite toward me.‘Hello, Jewel,' I projected much more civility than my brother. If Mom found it necessary to chat with Jewel, it was worth all our time to be more polite and Mikhail should have known better.‘Jewel, please give me a moment with my youngest,' Mom separated from that imposing young lady and walked five steps away with Mikhail.‘I'm glad we didn't have a misunderstanding last night,' I proffered.‘Why?' Jewel tilted her head and appeared to dissect my every word and move.‘Violence without purpose is beyond wasteful; it is stupid and the product of nonadaptive minds,' I stated.‘I don't recognize the quote,' she smiled after a moment.‘It is a Vladimir original,' I smiled back.‘I think I could have taken you,' she added.I had to think over that for a few seconds myself.‘Is that what you were talking to Mom about; asking to come over to our house and spar?'‘Perhaps; that and a few other things,' she allowed.Mom was coming back. Mikhail was going off with Taliyah. Why? I didn't know.‘Night Ms. Lafontanté,' Mom nodded.‘Good night, Ms. Samsonov. Night Vlad.'‘Night Jewel and; you would have lost,' I affirmed as I turned to leave.There was no reply. Before we split up; I was going back home with Alexander; she was hanging around until Dad finished up and dismissed the other Deputies; Mom gave me a shoulder 'bump'.‘Nice one,' she grinned up at me.‘Huh?'‘With Jewel.'‘She thought she could take me with a rattan practice weapon and I thought to dissuade her of that delusion,' I explained. It was the truth after all.‘Girls like Jewel; don't take 'no', or 'you can't do that' for an answer, Vlad,' she enlightened me.‘Even when it is the truth?'‘Especially if it is the truth,' she smirked. ‘Girls like Jewel want to change the World, not accept anyone's assignment for them in it.'‘Well; she is Mikhail's problem, not mine. He's hot for her. I'm perfectly happy with Brandy.'If only that was the way the World worked;Cheer Squad (12 Girls: 4 Black, 6 White and 2 Mixed)The Black girls were;·         Sultana Berry (Very Light fawn complexion).·         Vantrice Kirby (Very Dark umber complexion), (hair dyed florescent red-black striped, shoulder-length hair).·         Alondra Lamb (Very Light tawny complexion).·         Taliyah Malik; the Co-Captain.The White girls were;·         Brandy Crystal Carson is Co-Captain.·         Amber Lee Huffington, (Brunette hair).·         Mia Ryker, (blonde hair).·         Misty Dawn Sizemore, (Russet hair).·         Betty Jo Starling, (Blonde hair).·         Randi Leigh Upshaw, (Brunette hair).The mixed girls were;·         Le 'Pearl' Yates; (Raven-haired, half-Vietnamese/half-Black·         Noémie Lucie Desdunes (Creole) Zulu Princess Posse·         Jewel 'C. S.' Lafontanté·         Dana Owens·         Régine Hunt·         Maxine Shaw·         Shayla Karen White·         Sunny Cobb·         Lana Michelle Moore (the token white girl)Saturday: The Flashpoint.Note:  currently, Vlad is dating Brandy Crystal Carson {the Sheriff's daughter} and Mikhail is dating Taliyah Malik {the Madam Mayor's daughter} while Alexander remains somewhat unattached.)I wasn't able to make it to the Carson household Friday night, though I did learn about the reason Mikhail did: Thursday night the Malik family had begun to implode. Mamma Malik had gone to a separate bedroom; and locked the door. Papa Malik hadn't taken that well, deciding to bury himself in alcohol as an appropriate response. That had been Taliyah's Friday morning. A series of late-afternoon blistering communication exchanges with her parents hadn't helped much.I resolved to make it up to Brandy by going over early ~as in 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, early; and waking her with kisses. She'd told me the passkey for the home's security system (and 'yes', it had been changed after she dumped Darius for me, just in case).I got there; and the Living Room looked like it needed more than a little cleaning. Pizza boxes and soda cans were strewn about the place. Apparently, Brandy and company hadn't gone straight to bed last night..From what I'd already been told, she had Taliyah (Malik), Noémie Lucie Desdunes, Amber Lee Huffington, Alondra Lamb, Misty Dawn Sizemore and Betty Jo Sterling already here. The other five members of the Cheer Squad would be arriving later this morning and all were planning on spending tonight (Saturday night).Noémie Lucie, Amber Lee and Misty Dawn were strong supporters of the Brandy and Taliyah co-captaincy of the Cheer Squad, so that explained their presence. Alondra and Betty Jo were here out of worry the members of the Football Team might try to 'kidnap' them, once they were off school grounds: so safety measures had been taken.With Robert 'Big Bob' Carson, the County Sheriff, away for the weekend at a Law Enforcement convention in Miami, Florida, he had wisely deposited at least one Samsonov guarding his northwestern Arkansas home last night. Surprisingly, Mikhail had sensed Taliyah's soul-hurt about the situation and wanted to be there for her. He'd put his burgeoning playboy tendencies aside when she really need him. His transformation last night had surprised both me and, to some degree, my Mom, Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov.No one was awake in the house yet. From the rich aroma wafting from the Kitchen, I could tell the automatic coffeemaker had already prepared a full pot and was keeping it warm. I dropped my book bag; sans books, but with a change of clothes, two swimsuits and a few other 'gifts from Mom'; by the sofa first, then began transferring plates and glasses from the Living Room to the dishwasher in the Kitchen. I thought I heard someone out on the front porch.No one knocked, so I finished the trip to the kitchen. I was on the way back when I was pretty sure I heard someone trying to get in; with no luck. You had to be a pretty stupid thief to try and break into the County's chief Law Dog's domicile, even if he was currently out of town. Then there were the four cars and two electric-blue with yellow lightning bolts KTM 690 Enduro R's motorbikes (mine and Mikhail's) in the driveway and front lawn for Pete's sake. It wasn't like the house looked deserted.Seeking the Carsons.Someone rang the doorbell. I wasn't sure how to take that. A quick double-check revealed the door had a spy hole and there was a security screen further into the room. I made use of the spy hole since it was closer. The object on the other side was the best disguised house burglar I'd ever seen, or heard about. I opened up the door, a sappy smile plastered to my slightly flushed face. At the last second I thought to shove my hard-on to the side in a doomed attempt to make it less obvious.‘Hello, how may I help you?' I greeted the gorgeous, mature, platinum-blonde feminine bombshell standing before me.‘Do the Carson's still live here?' she appeared distressed.‘Oh, yes Ma'am,' I bobbled my head. ‘Hi. I'm Vladimir Samsonov. The owner is out right now and I'm here for a party being thrown by his daughter, my girlfriend, Brandy.'Her face transformed from confusion and worry to secret amusement.‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Vladimir,' she put forth her hand. I gladly took this elegant, graciously offered extension of her luscious form. I ended up kissing her knuckles instead of shaking it as I understood that was the Southern Gentlemanly thing to do to a lady. Her eyes twinkled as she added, ‘I'm Jodi May Memphis Carson; Brandy's my daughter.'My heart caught in my throat. From what little I knew, a few months back, Brandy's Mom had run off with the previous Senior Deputy; Big Bob's #2 Man; a Black 'gentleman'; and Big Bob was still pissed about it. I'd never broached the subject with Brandy.So, how upset was Big Bob? Well, I hadn't recognized his gorgeous wife because Big Bob had taken all pictures of her down around the place and Brandy never talked about her. That was a pity because she was an absolute beauty. Her name and history would definitely explain the luggage she had with her too.No car was in evidence which suggested she'd arrived via hitchhiking, or taxi. There was no one outside expecting money, or checking to see if she was okay;‘Please,' I stepped aside. ‘Come on in. Don't worry about your luggage. I'll get it.'‘Thank you,' she stepped inside. ‘That is very gentlemanly of you.' Points for me!With two over-stuffed dress bags, two large suitcases and a roll-on, I definitely felt overburdened, and I was certainly getting my weight training in for this morning, but following Mrs. Carson into the house made all but one of my physical aches go away. I was certain she was talking to me.What she actually said; I had no idea. She had on this contour-hugging, pale lavender skirt and a white, nearly-transparent imitation Peasant blouse with a black mesh bra underneath. This was above unadorned, creamy-tanned calves and white, open-toed heels (4 inches maybe?). Her finger- and toe-nails were a dazzling, pale pink to accent the ensemble.With the way her hips rolled when she walked, each step made her firm ass bounce just a tad which also just happened to accentuate the luscious lines of those exquisite calves and thighs (what I could see of them). Her hair boiled down to her mid-back like a wild torrent of molten gold. I swear to God, I had this unnatural impulse to push her over the back of the sofa and fuck the ever-living soul out of her.‘Vladimir? Vlad?' Jodi May addressed me. Apparently she'd been asking me one, or more, questions while I had been daydreaming. She'd stopped and twisted at the hip so she could look at me. Her salacious twist of the lips and carnivorous eyes told me she knew exactly why I hadn't answered her and where my mind had wandered off to.‘I; I apologize, Mrs. Carson.'‘Call me Jodi May,' she purred.‘Wha-ha, Yes Ma'am!' I nodded vigorously.‘I was asking I thought Brandy was dating Darius Pope. What happened to him?'Ice flushed thru my veins and my brain re-engaged. She'd known about Brandy and Darius; to some degree anyway; and she'd run off with a Big Black Cock-Monster herself. As a mature woman, she was a 10+, but as a Mother, in my book, she wasn't rating so high all of a sudden.‘So you were aware Darius Pope treated your daughter like a cum dumpster?' my countenance hardened. ‘She was handed about the team for all of them to use?'I could see it in her eyes; the comprehension; the denial; the creation of some fantasy which allowed her to carry on with the illusion she'd done no wrong.‘All White men think that way,' she settled on an imperious frown. ‘Darius loves my daughter.'‘And he's got the copious amount of humiliating footage to prove me right too,' I glared. ‘Or would have had if my family not intervened. Now Brandy has someone who truly loves her and wants to protect her from predators who would treat her as nothing more than three nameless orifices, a smoking hot body and a pretty face.'‘As it currently stands, it turns out Darius pissed off one too many folks and somebody decided to beat the ever-living crap out of him and six of his boys; all at the same time. Darius ended up crippled, maybe for life. He is currently hospitalized, undergoing reconstructive surgery on both his knees; in Little Rock. That doesn't matter because by the time Darius got his, I'd already convinced Brandy she was better off with me and she's stuck with me ever since,' I concluded.‘Poor Darius,' Memphis grew all concerned, nostalgic and misty-eyed. Yep, Darius had fucked Brandy's Mom as well. A quick information rewind had me recalling this convention of Big Bob's was a 'yearly thing', making the return of his runaway wife to his stoop rather conveniently timed.‘Where do I put your bags?'That brought her back to the here-and-now and looking at me, not through me.‘I imagine the Master Suite might be a tad inappropriate,' I stated factually.‘Young man,' she studied me, ‘this is still my house and I'll hang my clothes were I wish.'‘Absolutely, Mrs. Carson,' I nodded. ‘It is just placing them in the Master Bedroom comes with a complementary call to your husband; in Miami; while doing so in the Guest Room, the one at the other end of the house (because this house had Three), comes with some forbearance. By all means; decide away. After all; it is your house.'‘How do you think Brandy will feel about you threating her Mamma this way?' she pouted remarkably like her daughter.‘She won't give a damn,' I gave back nothing.‘My daughter and I had a better understanding of; things,' she turned all hurt and aggrieved. 'Things' like Mamma's infidelity and running off with a Black stud; because Brandy was lying to her father about getting some of her own at school.‘Things a White boy wouldn't understand,' she dug in her claws.‘Possibly,' I shrugged. Her shit was getting heavy. ‘I'd appreciate it if you would make your decision now. I was planning on cleaning up down here before waking Brandy with a few 'good morning' kisses. I can top that off with the knowledge you are here as well.'‘Put my things in the; far; Guest Room,' she motioned in the proper direction with a head toss. ‘I'll wake my daughter. I'm sure she has missed me.'‘Good choice,' I nodded. ‘Here is a piece of unsolicited advice. Your family hasn't picked up an automotive fetish in your absence; your daughter has friends over for the weekend, so making a commotion might by; unfortunate.'My information perplexed her.‘She is probably alone,' Mamma Carson hazarded.‘Unlikely. Taliyah was pretty upset last night so I'm willing to bet they crashed out with my brother; in the Master Suite while the five others are in the Game Room making use of the three sofas, sleeping bags and bear skin rug,' I hypothesized right back.‘Brother?' she worked out from all that information.‘Please come along with me while I explain,' and off I went. Reluctantly, the delinquent Mamma followed. Mind you, the far Guest Room was hardly a hardship being 12'x18' with a queen-sized canopy bed, walk-in closet and 72' wall-mounted TV. The counter-top space was minimal and the bathroom was down the hall, but since this wasn't the sleep-occupancy part of the dwelling, it was pretty much hers alone.‘As I said 'I'm Vladimir Samsonov'. My Mom and Dad are Gayle and Nicolay Samsonov. He is the new Senior Deputy and has over two decades of experience with the Alaska Highway Patrol and a legacy of law enforcement going back hundreds of years.'‘Of greater importance to you, no doubt, is that my Mom is Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov, heir to the Fonteneau fortune and estate; which is what brought us to town; my Great-Aunt Matilda's death and her Willing us the whole deal,' I gave Jodi May Memphis the 4-1-1.‘Oh,' she pursed her lips. ‘How is the 'town' handling this?'‘What?'‘The return of Gayle Fonteneau?' she inquired. She was in the closet, hanging up what she needed to while I was in the room, ass resting on the bed.‘Why do you think they would be upset?'‘Let's just say Gayle and her crazy brother didn't leave Kingston on the best of terms,' she evaded.‘I already know about my Mom's rape and the town's denial. I know my Uncle Theo went into Kingston, found four of those bastards and beat them so badly none ever fully recovered. I know the Mayor and Great-Aunt Matilda struck a bargain so that Uncle Theo stayed out of jail. I know the Mayor has passed-on, as has my Great-Aunt. I know my Mother hasn't forgotten, or forgiven, a damn thing.'‘I'm sure Mayor Fox and Chief Quinterre are less than impressed,' she smiled at me. She knew the score. This was BBC Country.‘Chief Quinterre is no longer Chief. He lost his job last Thursday night; for molesting my Mom, having one of his buddies molest your daughter, and being caught at it by an Arkansas State Investigator. My Mom is supporting Mayor Fox's bid for the State Senate seat while Chinedu Malik is in the dog house for his philandering ways.'‘That's; something,' she muttered.‘Oh, and the previous High School Principal is no more. He attempted to put his hands on my Mother, so she put him in Intensive Care; including ripping his dick off,' I kept chatting. By the flashing of Memphis' big baby blues; that was another BBC she'd be missing. Sadly, I was no longer surprised.‘The new guy; well, you'd have to meet him to believe him. He's a treat.'‘How so?'‘How to describe him; He's a college-marinated, proudly bi-sexual, agnostic, married-to-a-freaking-Goddess, beefy, Black Canadian-Haitian-American Fruit Loop.'‘Huh?'‘I stand by my assessment,' I grinned. ‘Let me go get Brandy,' I headed for the door.‘Vladimir, Vlad, ah; is Brandy; okay?' Jodi May worried.‘I do my utmost to make her happy; and I; well, I'll let you talk with her and decide for yourself,' and then I left.I worried about what I was going to say when I found Brandy. As I had surmised, she was upstairs, in the Master Suite, on her Daddy's bed,

And the Beat Goes On.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Tuesday night, in the asphalt-covered rear loading area of the Wal-Mart there was a Redneck throw down. Buck Tooney was wasting no time in cementing his leadership position over the White portion of our High School. His job was made more difficult by Darius' ruthless efficiency in allowing no other organizations, no matter how informal, to challenge his dominion. That translated over to Buck having to bust more heads to bring the 'rednecks' all in line.If that worked out, the city-Whites would be next. The problem for everyone else was the High School had been a succession of autocratic tyrannies for so long, it was difficult for the students to successfully even balkanize, much less unify. Everyone assumed another 'Darius' would eventually arise to restore a brutal school order; as long as 'he' was Black.That meant Buck needed a Black figurehead to parade in front of the 'establishment' to get things done. So far, no such person existed. Rashaan not only had the mistaken impression he could resist Buck, he was the Chief of Police's son; so not a prime candidate to be a figurehead for a criminal like Buck. Therefore he had to get Rashaan out of the way; figuratively speaking.Another problem for Buck was the school already had an existing Black criminal element. Darius had not been a part of it, but like so many other aspects of school society, when he told the leaders of the school subcultures to do something, or not to do something, he expected compliance. If not; pain would definitely follow. These characters weren't going to easily knuckle under to Buck Tooney though. After all, he'd been Darius' brother's 'boy', not the other way around.If anyone seriously thought Buck had returned to High School to be the Black Man's Bitch (again), they were clearly high, brain damaged, and/or delusional. I wouldn't have put money on who could have taken who in a Buck vs. Darius brawl; except Darius wouldn't have been lured into that kind of fight.Absent Darius, the school's Black community only had two confederates with sufficient intellect and charisma to lead the forces on that side of the racial divide. Sadly for the disciples of the Almighty BBC, both were women. Not only was Taliyah's mom the Mayor, she herself was co-Captain of one of the establishment's most recognized bodies; the Cheer Squad.The other was Jewel 'C. S.' Lafontanté. She was more infamous than famous, intelligent, un-aligned with any club, or activity, which awarded accolades, yet was overly endowed with a host of natural abilities as well as learned skills and talents. And, unlike Taliyah,; absent Darius; she felt the top spot was hers for the taking from the get go.Step one had been to sit at the feet of her mother and father, taking their counsel on the principles of asymmetric warfare, transforming weaknesses into strengths and how to locate, isolate and exploit the weaknesses of her enemies. Step two was accomplished Tuesday night when she and the rest of the Zulu Princess Posse jettisoned their boyfriends. From here on out, the ladies would be taking whatever cock they wanted. The times; they were a-changing.I had two more imminent problems with my life. The first was Riley Pasternak, Mayor Malik's aide and a woman I'd put my cock into; without my Mother's permission. By the way she kept licking absolutely everything off her fingertips at dinner Tuesday night while staring at me, I was sure she was expecting another performance.Before I could worry about how to finally put the brakes on my out of control sex drive, we had a caller at the gate; for me. It was Randi Leigh Upshaw. That was more than a tad unexpected. I'd stuck my cock in her, so I felt obliged to provide hospitality now that she came calling, but promised myself 'no sex'. We met on the porch.‘Hey, Vlad,' Randi Leigh appeared distracted and a bit distraught and couldn't meet my gaze.‘Hello, Randi Leigh. Care to sit down?' I motioned toward the porch swing.‘Sure,' she walked that way. It wasn't all that cold, she was in a team jacket, yet she still felt the need to wrap herself in her arms.‘What's going on?' I said once we'd taken our seats and swung back and forth twice.‘I; do you like Brandy?' she turned on me, putting a both her hands on my right forearm.‘Yes, I do,' I nodded. ‘Very much.'‘I can make you happier than she can,' bubbled forth from her lips.'What gives you that idea', seemed inappropriate so; ‘I thought you were happy with Rashaan,' was my second, and apparently equally bad, choice. Her look said it all: Rashaan wasn't getting the job done in a fundamental way.‘He's nothing like you,' she purred with the understated passion of an addict needing fix; me being the drug.‘Vlad, what is going on out here?' Mom called out. With Mom's propensity to sneak up on things like a Martian and listen in on conversations, this had to be a clue about something more. We both hopped out of the swing.‘This is Randi Leigh Upshaw. She's a; ah friend of Brandy and on the Cheer Squad. She's dating Rashaan Quinterre now.'‘Nice to meet you,' Mom was full with the feigned politeness, ‘Randi Leigh. I need a moment of Vlad's time, then I'll give him back.'She pulled me aside and back down the walk around porch until we were out of earshot then;‘Care to explain?'So I did; everything from the encounter in the Parking Lot to the Music Room banter, her going off in an epileptic seizure and ending with her here; now. Mom put her hand to her chin as she lowered her head slightly. Her far-off look dictated she wanted a few moments to think things through.‘With some girls; it goes straight to the brain like some allergic reaction,' she related. ‘In 1898, one of your ancestors was felled by a delirium and was cared for in a cat house in Dawson City. Three 'Ladies of the Evening' quickly fell to fighting over him and concluding with two fighting a duel with pistols in the middle of Front Street to decide who got 'their man'. Clearly some ladies can go a bit nuts over what your family has in your nut sack.'‘That's totally nu; crazy and unfair to poor Randi Leigh,' I frowned. I kicked at the planks on the porch for good measure.‘Didn't you just tell me she is gladly whoring herself out for Rashaan Quinterre? Do you think she's doing that for love?'‘What about Brandy? I don't want to cheat on her; any more than I've already cheated on her,' I muttered. Man, I sounded pathetic!‘Here's what you do,' my Mother stroked my cheek. ‘You tell Randi Leigh she had better become Brandy's #2 friend from here on out, or you won't have anything to do with her. You aren't going to cheat on Brandy, but Brandy might see a way to share you from time to time if she behaves. No more Big Black Cock for her though.'‘Okay,' I felt partially relieved. Now that I had a moment alone, I added, ‘What about Riley?'‘I got her.'‘You?'‘Yes. Me and your Da are going to take her to bed for some pulse-pounding, three-way action,' she grinned like an orca about to devour a baby seal.I had no idea Dad was so; kinky.‘Once I get your Da going, he's quite the animal,' Mom enlightened me. ‘I'll get me and Riley going in the bedroom. When he walks in, he'll protest; like he always does; then he'll come around and; ‘‘Enough, Mom,' I raised my hands. ‘Enough.'She laughed. I retreated to the semi-sanity of Randi Leigh who was waiting on me expectantly.‘Here are the rules,' I began ticking off my points, finger by finger.‘I'm Brandy's boyfriend. If you want to spend time with me you had better become Brandy's #2 best friend.'‘You don't sleep around with anyone else besides me and my brothers without clearing it with us first.'‘You don't pick fights with anyone unless you 'okay' it with myself, or my brothers first.'‘You break the rules three times and we never even talk with you; ever again.'That would have been the point I at which would have expected her to scoff at me at least, possibly slap me, or at least cry as a form of manipulation. Randi Leigh simply nodded. I walked her off the porch to her vehicle. We hugged, but didn't kiss. Afterwards I called Brandy and gave her the basics of what had gone down without explaining the toxic stew which lay behind it.I avoided my family the rest of the night; choosing to go to bed early instead. As I lay reclined on my back, staring out the tall window into the clear, highland night sky, I felt sick to my stomach. Slowly a revelation came to me. What my family had was definitely a curse, not a blessing because it was wed to a sense of conscience and responsibility.I had often thought about why Mom sought out Dad as the 'One' for her, but until that night, never really considered why he had chosen her to be his 'One'. Looking back, I realized it wouldn't have made sense until that point because I didn't have enough pieces of Mom's puzzle. I had the belief Dad sensed the intense pain within Mom's soul and nothing short of the grave, or what he had within him, could soothe her.By Mom's own admission, she was a Wild Child. She would have never settled down. Never had us kids. Never felt the love of a family if Dad hadn't decided to share his genetic curse with her. He'd loved her enough to become her lodestone; the center of her life and to take on all the pain such a position entailed.Everything I knew about my Dad suggested Mom was the Last type of woman he would have wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Dad liked his life calm, quiet and orderly. Mom was the polar opposite of those desires; impulsive, loud and chaotic. I didn't doubt his love for her in the slightest, yet my Father had sacrificed his dreams of tranquility to save my Mother.Why wasn't Mom furious with him over enslaving her to his cock; his magic sperm? She probably had been, once she figured out the family secret; for a short while. Then she realized the import his love had, saw the course her life was taking her down and what she obviously meant to him. But Mom being Mom; she still made him pay with her explosively eccentric behavior and her bizarre tutelage of his boys.And Dad had accepted it all as the price necessary to save my Mother's life; and that was that. Dad could have had any woman he wanted. Any Samsonov man could have. Why weren't we a clan of billionaires then? Why didn't we have oriental-style harems and dozens of mistresses on the side?Because we saw what we possessed as a curse; which we sometimes shared with truly crazy people to give them a real world focus for their lives so they wouldn't finally be consumed by their peculiar forms of madness. My hypothesis certainly fit what I knew about my kinfolk. I took that uneasy psychic compromise with me to my dreams.Wednesday.Wednesday morning, the storm clouds began to gather. The big news was Jewel Lafontanté had dumped Thomas 'Shaka' Sneed, Student Body President. Certain notorious Redneck troublemakers were either absent, or had shown up bruised and battered from last night's rumble with Buck's crew.That wasn't the only bruising going on. Rashaan had gone from one cheerleader to none, to two, to none once more; inside a week. The damage to both his ego and prestige was immense. Into the void stepped a rather brutal individual named Porter Walmsley, the Football Squad's Defensive Team Captain. While he was big, bad and Black, Taliyah and Brandy insisted his thick sausage was also very short; a definite deal-breaker when it came to BBC Mastery.Not to be outdone, Alonzo Hollingsworth, son of the richest (Black) man in Kingston made a play for Taliyah at lunch. He was long on talking solidarity while showing no solidarity with any of the other social 'front-runners'. Taliyah told him she'd 'think about it' in a blatant attempt to rile Mikhail. It didn't, which only soured her mood more.At practice, the Assistant Athletic Director (aka Coach Weasel, aka Coach George Wilcox), named Deon Manley Team Captain. He was (surprise, surprise) Black, in my position (Point Guard) and on record as performing sexual favors for the coach (letting the coach suck his cock).After practice, I got a message; via Brandy; that Jed Lee Earl wanted to talk with me and my brothers. She had to give me the 411. He was from one of Kingston's old White Rich families, led a clique of rich and 'almost rich' White kids and she thought he was gay. Most likely, with Buck on a rampage, he was looking for some 'muscle of his own,' she added with a giggle. I swatted her ass over that one.At least this time we avoided any name calling as we made our exit from school. Alexander was off to Ms. Blanchard's class. Mikhail took Kaja home on his KTM 690 Enduro R motorcycle without argument. I took Monique and Shaquille home (her house actually) with Vicky and Kaelyne tagging along. Brandy and Taliyah took Alondra and Noémie to their homes before the rendezvous at the Fonteneau mansion.The routine cycle resumed: homework, working out, showering, then a small amount of friend time before dinner. Unlike Tuesday, Mikhail was downright responsive to Taliyah; playful if not contrite. Taliyah countered by being friendly to Kaelyne and Vicky. I had my hands full with Brandy the entire time, so I was of no help.Vicky surprised us all by asking to learn a few wrestling and Sambo moves as we migrated to the backyard. I was 'nominated' to be her instructor. Things were complicated by her relative small size (5'2' / 157.5 cm) and mass (98 lbs. / 44.45 kg.). Figuring out all she really wanted to do was grab my cock, or nuts (both clothed) and pinch my nipples took all of thirty seconds.While tickling is not in your regularly accepted repertoire of wrestling moves, I had grown up with two brothers and plenty of young cousins. With my superior reach and strength, Vicky never stood a chance; so Kaelyne rushed in as well. When she proved unable to turn the tide (recall: I'm one of three; triplets), Brandy jumped me as well. This time I had the good sense to go down under their combined might, cry and beg for mercy.Thursday.With Brandy's acquiescence, if not outright permission, I gave Randi Leigh a blowjob opportunity before Home Room on Thursday. Mikhail was in the stall next to mine doing the exact same thing with Alondra. The difference was Alondra left with bounce in her stride and a smile on her face. Randi Leigh was fidgeting and uneasy.We missed Lunch Period, replacing it with a truncated orgy session which included Taliyah and Brandy plus Vantrice Kirby, Mia Ryker and Le 'Pearl' Yates. That left only Noémie Lucie Desdunes (in her case the middle name was a Creole thing) and Amber Lee Huffington, who were both in the B and T camp anyway. We could get them Saturday, or so the plotting went.The (Football) Coach and Principal decided since Friday was a 'home' game, we would have a 'memorial' service for Darius Pope; not that he had actually died, or anything; instead of the standard 'victory' party after the game. Apparently the Principal thought Brandy, as Darius' girlfriend, could help coordinate the function. Help as in work with the suddenly school-active Jewel Lafontanté.The other event was Hell Must Have Frozen Over and Satan had Klansmen shoveling coal like mad while he shivered in his igloo chateau; at least as far as the Kingston and Davis County social scene was concerned. The family of Gayle Fonteneau was invited to dinner at; the house of the Madam Mayor aka Dominique and Chinedu Malik.Her father had broken the hold the Fonteneau's had over the town which once bore their name; but now was Kingston, back in the late 1960's and early 70's, ushering an age of Black Supremacy into this burgh. It hadn't been an easy, or happy, transition either. Generations of Fonteneaus had treated the town as an extension of their own estate and hadn't welcomed the march of democratic progress.My Mom's rape, Uncle Theo's rampage of vengeance, and the resulting cover-up had severed the links between the Fonteneau Clan and the town of Kingston. That was the other, hidden, part of 'The Deal' which saw Uncle Theo going to a military school, not straight-out prison, for the punishment he'd visited on my mother's attackers.It could be argued Mom was now violating the 'corrupt' bargain between old Mayor Fox and Great Aunt Matilda. I also imagined neither ever thought their heirs would ever find 'common cause'. Both were now safely dead and if his daughter, Dominque, was bothered by this, she was doing the opposite of complaining.Had I realized how much Mom was sending Dominque's way, I would have been stunned. Had I realized how little of the Fonteneau fortune her support represented, I'd have cringed. The Fonteneau has been rife with eccentric, often wicked, geniuses for over two centuries.They'd invented and patented stuff, they swindled, robbed and stole from kinfolk, neighbors, towns, tribes, corporations and countries, and they invested that wealth with prescient ability. Unlike other famous American capitalists and industrialists, they hadn't felt obliged to build theater halls, university buildings, or jack-squat to remind the Rest Of The World how rich they'd become.No; they had miserly hoarded their wealth with one family member in each generation getting the lion's share along with the tacit understanding they took care of one another. That had equated to Great-Aunt Matilda being the inheritor in her generation, yet taking care of her sister's children as if they were her own.How much did 'we' have? Mom snorted and told me the Fonteneau never kept all their money in one place; in case something happened. Still, it wasn't like Uncle Cassius in that Indonesian prison didn't have his own 'resources' to keep him safe, or Uncle Theo kept evading prosecution based solely on his military training. Had either of those funds been traced back to our family, there could have been trouble; and those were just two examples of how Great-Aunt Matilda dispersed the family fortune.Anyway, I decided to bring Brandy along as my date/protective shielding. Mikhail laughingly suggested Alexander bring Ms. Blanchard. He suggested Vicky. I suggested Alondra. He scoffed. I suggested we'd need the distraction plus someone we could rely on to keep their mouth shut if something untoward happened (or, in Alondra's case, failed to understand the significance of).After 'dressing up', Mikhail and I had to double-back to school to pick up Brandy, Taliyah and Alondra for dinner. They, and about forty other students, had been shanghaied by Jewel into making the auditorium into a tribute to Darius Pope; odd since I imagined she despised the guy and rejoiced at his departure.‘Hey there,' Jewel greeted us as we entered the largely empty arena. ‘Vlad, is it? Mikhail?'Jewel was a tall (nearly 6 feet) woman with skin a soft shade of brown enhanced with coppery highlights. Currently her long, kinky black hair was worn braided with a mixture of beads and ribbons which 'clacked' when she moved. Her figure was dynamite, more a powerful Amazonian 'C' to Brandy's curvaceous 'D', but an ass just as scrumptious.Her lips were wide and her nose broad, but her most sensual quality, in my eyes, was her smoldering dark eyes; so dark they seemed totally devoid of an iris, yet keenly perceptive and subtly intelligent, surrounded by the longest, most natural-appearing eyelashes I'd ever witnessed.Today she was in a leather, electric blue mini-skirt, white knee socks and a long sleeved, skin-tight white shirt with the torso-sized images of a rampant phoenix and tiger facing one another on both front and back.‘Yes. Vladimir and Mikhail Samsonov, Ms. Lafontanté. A pleasure to meet you,' I stated since we'd never been formerly introduced. Likewise, I'd been raised a gentleman who waited for a lady to offer her hand to be shaken before a man shook it.She gave me an appraising, almost predatory, up-and-down gaze.‘Call me Jewel,' she extended me her hand.‘Vlad!' Brandy called out. Her someone must be trying to poach my Man sense must have gone off because I was definitely getting that sensation as her fingertips played across my fingers and palm before we shook hands. She had a confident, solid grip.‘Princess,' I was continuing to 'test drive' Brandy's pet name as I looked around Jewel.‘We are almost done,' Jewel shifted so as to interrupt my view (almost worked; but I was taller than she was).‘Let me help then,' I offered, even as I realized she hadn't let go of my hand yet.‘I'm planning on it,' she smirked, then released my hand and spun quickly around.‘Alright!' she addressed the room, the word accentuated with a sharp clap of her hands. ‘Let's finish getting those banners hung; Brandy?'Brandy was decidedly ignoring Jewel by throwing herself into my embrace and including an impressive, tongue-hungry lip-lock. 'Umm; tasty'. I kept her off the ground, so she decide to kick up both her legs until her heels almost touched her buttocks. When our mouths separated, she gave off a breathless giggle.‘Strawberry?' I questioned the flavor of her lip balm.‘Yes,' she grinned. With exaggerated slowness, Brandy turned to Jewel. ‘Almost done, Jefe?'‘So Jewel, I understand your regular cock wasn't getting the job done,' were the first words out of Mikhail's mouth; the Jackass! The assumption was he was referencing her dumping her last boyfriend; who was also here tonight.‘Mikhail!' Brandy gawked.‘Damn it, Mikhail,' I pivoted and glared at him.‘You auditioning for the job?' Jewel took a provocative pose. So much for the possibility of being offended. It was at times like this I didn't get women at all.‘I'm willing to put you in my rotation,' he bantered back courageously.‘What is mine, is mine. I don't share,' Jewel volleyed.‘You won't be the first Top Bitch I've had to deal with. Won't be the last,' he chuckled.‘Am I 'your type'?'‘Babe, you are hitting on all cylinders; you're smart, fierce, built like a true athlete; plus you think you are better than me,' he leered.‘I'm AM better than you, Samsonov.'‘By all means,' he took two steps her way. ‘Prove it.'‘Mikhail, we are here to retrieve our dates and go to dinner with our parents,' I reminded him. ‘Speaking of which; where are Taliyah and Alondra?'‘Which one of you is dating Alondra?' Jewel scoffed. With the way she said 'Alondra' she might as well have said 'The Chihuahua'. I put Brandy down.‘Alexander,' Brandy simmered. ‘They bonded over having a soul; unlike some people.' Gosh, that was awful feisty of Brandy. ‘Vlad, they went to get some colored light filters for the spotlights. They should be back soon.'‘Hey now,' I patted Brandy's ass. ‘Needless hostility isn't getting the work done.' I used that hand on the ass to press her against my hard-on to remind her of our primal connection.Her eyes flashed up, she gave me a salacious look, two hip wiggles, and then sauntered off to complete whatever project she was assigned. I tagged along because I both liked that ass and decided keeping close to her was my best bet to stay safe. Jewel directed Mikhail to help with something else. When Taliyah returned with Alondra and Misty Dawn in tow (along with several boxes of something), she immediately alerted to his distraction.She gave him no warning of her approach. Unfortunately for her, growing up triplets left us all a bit hyper-situationally aware and always ready for some rough and tumble, so Mikhail clued into the impending threat right before Taliyah repeated her Charlie Horse from Hell. Instead, he caught her blow, pulling her in and pinning one of her arms behind her back.‘Care to explain that?' Mikhail mused; 'that' being the incoming pain.‘I saw you scoping her out,' Taliyah sizzled.‘Well-duh,' he snorted, ‘but I wasn't touching, or anything.'‘You'd better not be.'‘Don't you have some work to do?' Jewel intervened.‘Yeah; if this Neanderthal would unhand me; ‘‘You going to take another swing at me?'‘You going to give me a reason to remind you to behave?' Taliyah snapped.‘Most likely,' my triplet shrugged then let her go.‘Come on Alondra,' Taliyah called over to the cheerleader. They went off to stack up the proper colored light filters by the various spot lights. The actual work would be done by the custodial staff sometime tomorrow.Soon enough we finished all our assignments. Jewel's No. 1 minion; a short, Sepia-complexioned, sharp-looking young lady named Dana Owens; checked off each completed item on her tablet as the group leaders reported to Jewel. She ran a very tight, almost scarily-so, regime. Notable absent were the student-athletes.Notably present was Jewel's ex-boyfriend, Shaka Sneed. He was handsome enough, chestnut-hued, slight acne-scarring along his cheeks with lighting-bolts cut on each side of his more-on-top, closer-cropped-on-the-side/back curly hair. He was right as 6' and broad enough in the chest and narrow enough in the hip to suggest he worked out once, or twice, a week, but his attempt to physically intimidate Mikhail was woefully ill-considered.His shiny, black tennis shoes, dark-grey slacks and black t-shirt were all top quality and tight enough to suggest he was 'aroused', but he was playing out of his league when comparing himself to any of us. Clearly not every BBC stud was packing a 10' Passion Piston inside his boxers and with all the hot chicks Jewel had assembled, it would have been pretty discernable it he'd had one.‘I don't like the way you were talking to Jewel,' he approached my brother as we were exiting the school.With so many polite replies to choose from and a proper dinner to get to; ‘What are you going to do about it?' we turned and regarded him.‘I; ah; ‘ Shaka stammered. Open, obvious defiance wasn't what he expected, despite some of the clear signs we Samsonovs weren't playing by the established rules.‘Listen up, Shaky,' Mikhail feigned annoyance, ‘I've got a dinner to go to. If all you are going to do is spit at me, I'm going to get to it. I'll catch up with you at lunch tomorrow and we'll settle Jewel's perceptions of your penile inadequacies then.'‘It is Shaka,' he insisted angrily.‘Whatever,' Mikhail shrugged.‘I'm going to inform Principal Jean-Georges of your threats,' Shaka pledged.‘What threats?' Mikhail gave a lopsided grin.‘You threatened to fight me at lunch tomorrow,' he looked left then right. We had quite a gathering. Since none of them looked ready to fight, it wasn't a problem.‘My exact words,' my triplet sounded bored, ‘we'll settle Jewel's perceptions of your penile inadequacies. Not once did I mention the words 'fight', punishment, or violence of any kind, Shaky.'‘It is Shaka!' he growled.‘It is Thomas,' Jewel announced in an amused tone. She'd been locking up.‘Shaky's real name is Thomas?' Mikhail's gaze settled on Jewel. ‘Why the fuck did he pick a shitty nickname like Shaky when he had a perfectly good name like Thomas to go by?'‘It Is Shaka; you pinhead!' Shaka shouted.‘Shaka? What kind of lame name is that?' Mikhail mocked him.‘It is Zulu, you dumbass cracker,' he glared.‘Why didn't you pick a more relevant name; like; Vlad, help me out here?' Mikhail's countenance lost all its humor.‘Like Agaja, Askia, Ewuare, or Samori?' I supplied some viable alternatives.‘Yeah; them. You know; West African war leaders you might have some relation to as opposed to a South African butcher who is as likely related to you as I am to Christopher Columbus, you dumbass nigger.'Silence.A White Boy had called a Black Man a 'nigger' and not just the 'n-word'.‘What did you call me?' Shaka puffed himself up.‘Whatever was the appropriate abusive racial insulting counter to 'cracker', pencil-dick,' Mikhail huffed.‘Say it.'‘Shaky.'‘You little bitch,' he said in a low voice.‘I promised we'd revisit your penile inadequacies at lunch tomorrow, Shaky, not now. If you are not going to 'jump', I've got a dinner to go to.'‘Chicken-shit.'‘I really don't have the time to go down the long list of all the things Jewel called you as she kicked you out of bed, Shaky; ‘ and then Shaka shoved him.‘That'll do, Pig. That'll do,' Mikhail chortled. He was getting ready to fight. We really didn't have the time to clean up this mess; I had no doubt Mikhail would destroy Shaka in ten seconds flat. The problem was we'd have to stick around and deal with the fallout which was time we didn't have.‘Enough,' Jewel intervened both verbally and vocally. She had two of her ladies backing her up. I had a firm hand on Mikhail's shoulder as a reminder we had to be elsewhere. ‘Shaka, I thought better of you,' she looked at her ex. ‘He's playing you.'‘You've been playing with him,' Shaka countered.‘Even if I was; which I was not (she wasn't?), I'm not your property, or your woman,' she sneered. ‘You are pathetic. I dumped you because I know I can do better.'Ouch! That was harsh.‘No; you can't,' Taliyah spoke up aka demarcating Mikhail. ‘Not while I'm standing.'‘Damn you, Jewel,' Shaka grabbed his former girl by the arm. ‘I; ‘And then she laid into him. I was pretty sure it was elbow to the solar plexus, a stomp on the instep and then an arm grab into judo flip, but head-over-heels Shaka went. I say 'pretty sure' because it was dusk and Jewel move freaky-fast. Shaka had been completely flipped over onto his back in that final, fluid move.Even though Jewel still had a painful hold of his wrist, it was clear Shaka was out of the fight. Any sane combatant would have stopped at that point. Not Jewel. Up came her foot and down came that heel on his crotch. Shaka hissed like a punctured Zeppelin. Every single guy who witnessed the blow recoiled instinctively in sympathetic agony as well. Not to be outdone though;‘I guess Shaka Zulu is now just another Bushman Brother,' Mikhail quipped jokingly.‘You are useless,' Taliyah began to drag him away.‘How is any of this my fault?' Mikhail laughed. ‘I didn't lay a hand on him.'‘You opened your fool-mouth,' she groused. She was dragging him off though.‘Alright everyone!' Jewel announced. ‘Time to go home.'Quickly enough there were only nine of us left standing there; Jewel, her six posse members, me and Brandy. Alondra had retreated with Taliyah and Mikhail. Shaka was still on the ground, hands cupping his tenderized privates.‘Yes?' Jewel tilted her head as she examined me.‘I'm hanging around to make sure Shaka makes it to his car okay.'‘I'll see to it.'‘I'll wait.'‘I said I'll see to it,' she reiterated as her eyes narrowed.‘Vlad, let's go,' Brandy tugged on my dress jacket.‘I heard you the first time, Ms. Lafontanté. You are also the one who put him in his current incapacitated condition, so I am going to stick around until I know he can take care of himself.'‘Do you think you can take me?' she shifted into a fighting stance; all subtle-like.‘I don't know. It isn't about me thinking I can beat you up. It is about not leaving any person at the mercy of those who would do them harm,' I explained coolly.‘Really?' she blinked.‘Really.'‘And if I tell you to get lost, or else?'I heard a car trunk shut rather gently; it was the 'click' of the lock engaging. Then came the crunch of the loose gravel on asphalt as my brother returned. Jewel's eyes shifted passed me, to him then back to me.‘You were stalling for time?'‘Pretty much,' I relaxed minutely.‘Here you go,' Mikhail handed me a padded, rattan practice broadsword. He had another broadsword plus a targe, a 20' diameter shield of Scottish origin).‘It is still seven on two odds.' from Jewel.‘We'll fight,' Brandy stated defensively.‘You and I ~' Taliyah directly addressed Jewel.‘Means nothing,' Jewel snorted. I could virtually see her work out the fight in her mind, going over and then discarding the various possibilities and resulting outcomes. Too many left her and hers with too many welts and bruises (rattan swords really sting) without a completely positive outcome.‘You don't even like him,' she motioned to the still moaning Shaka.‘That never matters,' Mikhail shrugged. ‘The moment you stomped on Shaky's peanuts, I knew Vlad wouldn't leave him here; at your mercy; so here we are.'‘Vlad?' Jewel searched my eyes for answers.‘Right is right and wrong is wrong,' I responded. ‘There is just and unjust punishment. You had every right to throw Mr. Sneed to the ground.'‘The heel to the groin was excessive,' I could hear myself channeling my Father. ‘At that point, he became a victim too. As my Brother said, I couldn't leave him at your mercy uncertain of your intentions.'‘So you do think you can take me,' she grinned like a Moray eel.‘I was really unsure until my Brother put this practice sword in my hand and returned to my side,' I related. ‘Even now, I'm not 100% positive. I've never witnessed your style of marital arts and you are certainly very good. Tha

Options:Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. ‘Senior Deputy Sheriff Samsonov is a hell of a guy,' Brandy mused.‘Him? No; not at first. Before me, the man had the sexual techniques of a cloistered monk. His cock on the other hand; whoa Nelly!' All three women nodded. ‘I had to train him over the years and he's pretty stubborn with these peculiar ideas about propriety and what locations are acceptable for intercourse.'‘Huh?' That was Brandy.‘In my opinion, if you can escape law enforcement it isn't really a crime.'‘What?' Taliyah.Sigh; ‘is there a place you wouldn't attempt to have sex?' Gayle looked them over. The two teens exchanged looks.‘Where is the weirdest place you've had sex?' Brandy asked the senior sex fiend.‘It is a toss-up between fucking while parachuting and having two orgasms in the Seattle Space Needle.' The girls looked for the joke. ‘Bitches, I don't mind you being centerpieces at a gang bang for the entire football team because of some sort of archaic moral hang-up. I'm glad my boys picked a pair of experienced sluts; I am.'Taliyah's fist clenched. Brandy took a different approach.‘So Vlad really doesn't care that I'm; more experienced?' A K A, nowhere close to virginal.‘No; not in the least. I don't like the fact you two let yourself be used as sex slaves by fuckers you know don't respect you,' Gayle schooled them.‘So you really don't mind me hitting Mik?' Taliyah mentally regrouped.‘Not at all. Some Men need a strong spinal realignment from time to time and don't call him 'Mik'. He finds it insulting and not in a playful way.'‘Do you hit; Mr. Samsonov?'‘No. The man is immune to negative physical reinforcement. Lord knows, I've tried. With their Da, it pays to be simple and direct. I grab his cock and say 'Here! Now!' and get down to business.'Both girls were aghast at both the visual and Gayle's frank honesty.‘And he puts up with that?' Taliyah grunted. Senior Deputy Samsonov was a huge man and could have tossed Mrs. Samsonov around one-handed, or so she had believed. He'd never came across like the cunt-whipped type.‘He's my partner, Taliyah,' Gayle kept 'explaining'. ‘He knows I'm a constantly horny, little slut whose kitty needs petting and I respect his rarely doing anything else I want him to do; like getting my name tattooed on his cock, starting a bar brawl for the shits and giggles, celebrating National Nude Day, or going skinny-dipping in your pool,' aimed at Brandy.‘Have you two had sex in my house?' Brandy choked.‘Twice,' Gayle recalled fondly. ‘Once in the kitchen, bent over the center island; a trifecta; and once in your Daddy's bedroom. I hoped he enjoyed the show on the playback.'‘She really is crazy,' Taliyah looked to Brandy.‘That I am,' Gayle gleefully agreed. ‘Back to the program. Brandy, tomorrow morning before Homeroom, I want you to 'suggest' to Vlad you want double-penetration. He'll ask you if it is my idea, you'll tell him 'no' and he'll believe you are lying to him. He'll go along with it anyway to make sure I don't get angry with you.'‘Will you?' Brandy meeped. ‘Will he?'‘No and no. Your sensuality is pretty physical, Brandy. You'll learn to be a lying, manipulative whore later.'‘You want me to lie to Vlad? He'll be furious with me when he finds out!'‘No, he'll be angry with me for making you lie to him,' Gayle shook her head. ‘Vlad's clever that way.'‘But; you want us to lie to them?' Taliyah didn't believe her.‘Taliyah, any man who believes everything a woman tells him is an idiot. My boys aren't idiots, just inexperienced and hormonal.'‘So you want us to lie to them,' Taliyah confirmed.‘I want you two to use your fucking brains along with those smoking hot bodies; that is what I want,' Gayle clarified. ‘Tomorrow, arrange for the Cheer Squad to meet in the Music Room at the start of 4th period. It just so happens, the Music Room is unoccupied during the 3rd period as well; here is the key,' she handed Brandy a key.‘You have a key to the Music Room?' Taliyah muttered.‘No. I have a Master Key to the school. I took it off that fat bastard former-Principal after he attempted to rape me,' she confessed blithely. ‘I made some copies for contingencies such as this.'‘Now Brandy; you, Vlad and Mikhail are going to skip 3rd period, sneak off to the Music Room and; enjoy yourselves. Take your time. Turn it into one huge seduction. Use that body to make them lose all track of time.'‘Where am I going to be?' Taliyah frowned; her Man was going to be fucking Brandy, damn it! Her aching possessiveness was new and raw.‘You make sure you are the first one to the room at the bell between the 3rd and 4th period. Gather up the girls and sneak them into the room with your key,' Gayle handed Taliyah another key.‘Won't the period bell let them know something's up?' Taliyah wondered.‘What are they going to do? Rip their dicks out of Brandy?'‘Oh no; ‘ Brandy gasped and shook her head. She didn't like that idea at all.‘No. Brandy will tell them the Music Room is vacant for the 4th period as well; so, in theory, they could keep going for another five, or ten minutes,' Gayle said.‘And the other eleven cheerleaders are going to walk into the room, see Brandy, Vlad and Mikhail; ‘‘Perhaps less than eleven, but yes; rushing hungrily to join in; ‘ Gayle interrupted.‘Oh; ‘ Taliyah blinked. ‘They are going to see the three of us and fall magically in love with them; oh.'‘Kind of like what happened to you,' Gayle smirked to Taliyah.‘Wait! Did you have Mikhail and Vlad; or just Mikhail, do that to me on purpose; at the lodge?' Taliyah rumbled angrily.‘No. What I needed to know was written all over Brandy's face their first Saturday together. My boy 'fixed' her something good. You and Mikhail keeping your hands off one another wasn't even a possibility; he was horny, just like you.'‘I swear, if that boy had set me up,' Taliyah growled.‘I suggest scratching and biting to remind him you are unhappy with him,' Gayle provided unlooked for advice and insight. ‘If that doesn't work, try hot candle wax.' The two girls, once again, gawked at Gayle. ‘Or you can pout, whine and tell him he is a big bully,' she spoke mockingly.Taliyah glared.‘Taliyah, you both like rough sex.  I am suggesting you keep going with what works,' Gayle chuckled. ‘Brandy, you keep up the pouting. Be a little less whiney.  Your 'pouty' pisses him off and makes him want to punish you with some hard fucking.'Pause.‘Oh,' Brandy grinned. Pouting = primal sex. check! Taliyah play-punched her, so Brandy pouted at them both.‘That'll do,' Gayle approved.‘What do we do if Vlad and Mikhail decide they like one of the other girls more?' Brandy revisited her panic.‘Fight for them,' Gayle sighed in exasperation. ‘Just like you two should be worthy of fighting over, you should be prepared to fight for their affections as well. I don't mean debasing yourselves. I mean reminding them you are the ones who will make them happiest, inside and outside of the sexual arena.'‘If Mikhail's gaze strays too long, I'll nut him,' Taliyah declared.‘I suggest a Charlie Horse on the off chance you surprise him. Do you really want to put that nut-sack out of commission?' Gayle snorted.‘Ah, good point,' Taliyah nodded; then, ‘How do you do a good Charlie Horse?'It dawned on both girls, like a flash of lightning across a clear night sky, they had been suborned to Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov's agenda; to the point where they were asking the older woman; the hated, feared enemy-bitch; for practical advice. The World had turned upside down.What it means.For me and Mikhail it meant no sex without being privileged to know why we were being punished. Dad came home with our young English teacher, Ms. Blanchard, only to have to drive Brandy and Taliyah back to school to pick up Taliyah's car; so she could drive Brandy home, not me.Alexander didn't have sex either (as far as I could tell), yet was gifted with an attentive Ms. Andrea Blanchard who 'appreciated' his gallant nature. Stunningly, Alexander's infirmity reappeared and Ms. Blanchard felt obliged to dote on him in a confusing flirtatious-mothering style. It took me a bit to figure out there was a fearful nervousness behind her actions as well.The situation was exacerbated by Mom deciding to get naked; ugh; just as everyone else was clearing the table.‘Nik,' Mom purred.‘Huh?' from Dad.‘Here; now!'‘Huh?'‘Sex.'‘We have company, Gayle.'‘And?'‘Quick!' I jumped up. ‘Everyone grab a plate and run for it.'Isabo hurried the children from the room while the rest of us stacked up the plates and serving trays as rapidly as possible before making our own exits. Andrea was flabbergasted. To add to her surreal feelings, as soon as we made our escape, the rest of the house life returned to normalcy. Even Bebe, who had been initially (in her case; weeks ago) freaked out by Mom's eccentric sexual behavior, appeared amused. I left it to Alexander to help Andrea adjust.‘Mom's; eccentric; erratic; and free spirited,' he shrugged.‘So, this happens; ah; often?' she whispered. No one else was whispering, but we understood the impulse.‘Two, or three, times a week,' Alexander admitted.‘; a week?' Andrea gulped.‘Oh yeah,' smirked Mikhail. ‘Don't worry. We understand Mom is beyond unusual. You won't see anyone else doing that; around here.'‘Okay; ‘ she hesitated. Ms. Blanchard caught his pause.‘What my brother is referring to is an earlier, unfortunate episode up at the hunting lodge,' I punched Mikhail as I explained. He chuckled.By the look on Ms. Blanchard's face, she was unsure if she wanted further clarification. Alexander took a slightly defensive posture hovering close by. Bebe, normally so silent around us boys, miraculously came to her rescue.‘Andrea; Mrs. Samsonov is a wonderful woman. She's also off her rocker and everyone in the house knows it. What is important is her true affection for those she holds close is genuine, her dedication is fierce in all she does and her husband and sons carry that intense devotion into their own friendships.'‘Thank you, Bebe,' I nodded. ‘As an outsider looking in; well, I couldn't have possibly said it better myself; being on the inside.'Andrea nodded as well. After all, Mom's insanity translated over to a bloodily beaten, abusive former Principle, five plus beaten students who had harassed her, a school escort, new locks on all her windows and doors, and a completely unsolicited whole house-cleaning.A feminine feline purr rumbled from the dining room. The five of us exchanged awkward looks.‘Ms. Blanchard, have you seen the stables?' I intervened. Her eyes flickered to me.‘No.'‘Great.'Mom's moan faded into Dad's growl. While my Pa was generally oblivious on the uptake and slow out of the starting gate, he was the ‘Hammer of the Gods', once he got going, about 1 hour minimum. Considering we three were most likely going to grow up to be similar in stamina to him; we had high hopes for our long term sexual futures.‘Alexander, why don't you show Ms. Blanchard the stables. Bebe, why don't you make yourself and Ms. Blanchard something to drink with a kick to it while Mikhail gets himself and Alexander something legit to drink,' I took command.‘Why am I involved in any of this?' Mikhail scoffed.‘I have to do the dishes because I was elsewhere; ‘ I reminded him.‘Oh yeah,' Mikhail snorted. Off he went. Bebe gave me a tiny smile before turning and heading for the library and its bar.‘Ms. Blanchard?' Alexander offered to direct the educator outside via another, 'safer' route.‘Oh; maybe I should go?' she hedged.‘Ah; ‘ Mom.‘Your purse is; ?' Alexander asked. We knew the answer. It was in the hallway; right outside the entrance to the dining room. It would be offsetting, or so it might appear. In actuality, my brothers and I had snuck thru the 'danger zone' many times before.‘Let's go see the stables,' Andrea redirected Alexander. I had a kitchen to clean up, so I missed the detailed tour of the stables as well as Ms. Blanchard's decision to spend the night; again.Tuesday.To maintain the illusion of Ms. Blanchard not spending time with Alexander (even though there was nothing sexual going on), we triplets were sitting in her gravel driveway while she ran inside to change and got a few things. 'A few things' meant a shot of vodka. She'd take a breath mint afterwards, but come on now; we were from Russian stock and vodka was our national beverage. It still made Alexander nervous.Mom had taken a different tactic in dealing with Ms. Blanchard's alcoholism. After she and Consuela cleaned up the place, Mom had come back with vodka bottles big and small and hidden them all over her small home; a shot glass with each big bottle. She'd left sticky notes to let her know where each bottle was hidden. I imagined the sticky notes were gone now, yet;The psychology was a shot glass would mean less alcohol per desperate desire to bury her pain and misery. The 'game' would allow Andrea to indulge while not turning her domicile into a drunkard's den. In theory, she could safely have company over now. Lastly, if Ms. Blanchard got too drunk, she couldn't remember where the bottles were hidden, or so the reasoning went.At school, Alexander (with our help) would diminish the root cause of her anguish; the sexual blackmail her students inflicted on her. At 'home', Mom and Bebe were befriending Andrea Blanchard; giving her female friends to connect with outside of the school's still poisonous BBC atmosphere.I was ruminating over that when;‘Do you really believe Mom's bullshit about 'magic dicks'?' Mikhail asked me out of the blue. Alexander was out of the Mustang, sitting on Ms. Blanchard's stoop. Today, Mikhail had ridden his motorcycle over, so I had the car momentarily to myself. I hesitated.‘Fuck,' he groaned. In our triplet group, I was the 'clever' one. We didn't resent our designations;·         Alexander; kind,·         Vlad; clever, and·         Mikhail, violent;because it allowed us leeway in our actions. See, Mikhail could react physically to problems because he knew if he was doing something exceedingly stupid, I'd stop him.If he was being 'too' brutal, Alexander would reign him in. Likewise, if Mikhail's gut instinct was to lash out, we respected it. Sometimes instinct trumped reason. If Alexander was being too sappy, we'd let him know. If I was over-thinking something, either brother could step in. By the time we hit our mid-teens, we couldn't imagine any other way of living.By our 18th birthdays we figured we'd spend the rest of our live together; we were an awesome trio and rightly proud of our co-dependence. Even if we ended up on the run with Uncle Theo, we'd all go down together. It was how we faced the family and our world. The blood-kin Samsonov's weren't the easiest people to deal with. We had Mom to thank for us not quite fitting in.We loved and admired Dad and his family. Mom's upbringing had tainted our way of thinking though. Time and again, Mom skirted, bent, or bastardized the 'ordinary' way of approaching life's pitfalls and pleasures. We three would never truly be 'Samsonovs'. I think Dad knew that as well. The one time an older cousin slipped us a catalog on the best Criminal Justice College programs in Alaska; Dad frowned. The man quietly withdrew his 'suggestion'.In a way, it was a blessing to the clan. Thanks to Mom, we were also gifted with the ability to navigate the machinations of the Samsonov brides and grooms; those folks who married into our lineage. Since they were all somewhat nutty, our ability to separate them when the lunacy set in was appreciated. That way, the rest of them didn't have to become overly confrontational; which was the way the blood-Samsonovs liked it.Being the clever one, I also clued into Mikhail's subliminal anger. He didn't want to cheat to get Taliyah's affections. He might even start trying not to be a jackass around her because of it; making them both miserable.‘Mikhail, you had her on the kitchen counter and backing that ass up against you in the recliner before any 'magic' kicked in. She likes you for reasons which defy even 'magic dicks',' I punched him in the arm.‘Thanks,' he nodded then hit me back. ‘So, what's next?'‘Gang-bang.'‘You really think we are going to pull it off?'‘Yeah. Mom sketched out the general plan to me a while ago,' I nodded.‘Cool. I've wanted to stick my cock down Alondra Lamb's throat ever since the first time I saw her lips part,' Mikhail rubbed his hands together.‘Taliyah is going to whoop up on you if she hears you talk like that,' I cautioned him.‘Yeah,' he grinned like the Heath Leger's Joker. ‘Cool, ain't it?'‘Being slapped by a girl?'‘Nah,' he cavalierly dismissed any misconceptions. ‘Making her angry with me. Then she gets this look in her eyes like she's going to own me; it is a huge fucking turn on.'‘Mom would be so proud,' I muttered.‘Then I'm going to nail Jewel Lafontanté,' Mikhail's eyes shown with relish.‘She's not on the Cheer Squad,' I pointed out.‘Yeah, but she's sexy, smart and thinks she a 'top' bitch,' he chuckled.‘Isn't she dating somebody?'‘So? I only want to borrow her; take her out for a spin,' he laughed. He was a jackass and ambitious and;‘Mikhail, both those girls are Black. Do you have a thing for Black chicks?'‘I like 'em dark,' he mused. ‘Hadn't really thought about it as a preference, but you're right. My Top Ten 'Most Fuckable List is filled with Ladies of Color. I guess that means you get the blondes and Alexander gets the red-heads and brunettes.'‘Top Ten List? You're a pig,' I chided him.‘Grunt, grunt, oink.'To put things in perspective, Alondra Lamb was a medium height, tawny skin Black lass with straight, black hair past her shoulders and a killer body with decent tits, perfect for her athletic body type, and a divine ass.She was also; to put it politely; mentally-underwhelming. Beyond her exemplary looks, she was an above-average gymnast and on most days capable of tying her own shoes; the ones with the Velcro straps. Her hazel eyes were always wide open and her lips pursed in an 'o' unless she was blathering on about something inane and off-topic, or just giggling for no understandable reason.She found simple things amusing (kind of adorable) and didn't 'date' a member of the football team; she barely could remember their names and normally got passed around like a living onahole. I felt sorry for her. Usually, she hung out with Betty Jo Starling (one of the team's other two Blondes) who shared her mentally-endearing qualities. The rest of the squad treated those two rather poorly.In contrast, Jewel Lafontanté was from a new (to Kingston) nouveau riche Black Family. Rumors say her Dad worked for the Government years ago, before setting out and founding his own IT company here in Arkansas. He and his Choctaw wife had retired here in Kingston a few years back. They bought a nice spread and became pillars of the community. Jewel was a late child. The rest of her brothers and sisters were grown, with families of their own. So she was effectively an Only Child, doted on by her aged parents.Jewel was also one of the smartest kids in school, one of the best members of the local studio's Dance troupe and possessed a crippling wit. At 5' 11', she was noticed and her curvaceous and sporty build was widely admired, although when her dark eyes danced with amusement at the suffering her 'diversions' caused, the timid backed away. Her preference for a different hairstyle, or two, every week kept the local hair stylists in business.She was bright, sassy and vicious with her own little group of Black women called the ZPP (Zulu Princess Posse, i.e.  6 rich Black girls and their one token rich White girl). They only dated 'rich' Black guys, yet consistently cheated with impoverished, or medium-income, White underclassmen. They toyed with the boys and finally let their official 'boyfriends' know of the White boy's indiscretions. If you somehow resisted their advances, they lied about what happened instead. Either way, beatings always followed.During Darius' reign, Jewel had kept a low profile from 7:15 to 2:15 pm and hadn't participated in the school's sports religion. No; she'd stayed safely away doing stuff with the other rich kids on the evenings and weekends. Darius must have decided her dad, while old, was an uncertain enough quantity to not screw around with his youngest child.Brief Segway.Beyond my understanding at the time, Jewel also represented another fabric of Kingston/Davis society; those from the post-divide i.e. higher-income families from out-of-State who moved in after the new millennia, both Black and White, who weren't invested in the bitter interracial struggle of the 1970's and took the status quo at face value.They'd moved here when Arkansas State put a satellite campus in down the road and the natural recreation industry gained a regional recognition; sports-fishing, hunting and hiking. A S U Kingston was a Medical Technical School which taught, as you might guess, various programs for technicians in the medical field as well as nursing. Not only did the graduates not normally go on to top tier careers, A S U K wasn't a research university, so the teaching staff, while well-to-do in this rural dystopia, weren't filthy rich either.A S U -K had a small campus with a faculty and student population under 2,000 and was, like the White Middle-class enclave of Sunshine Terrace, its own little microcosm in Davis County. Yep; A S U -K had its own Campus Police Force while Sunshine Terrace had a contracted private security service.Anyway, as Kingston prospered and the Middle Class Whites fled to their own segregated hamlet, these new Blacks moved into Kingston. Likewise, more 'country' Blacks moved in from Davis County as well, further segregating the races. Forty years after Taliyah's grandfather was first elected mayor, Kingston had tripled in size (2,100 to 6,400) while Davis County as a whole was roughly 60% larger (13,500 to 21,700), thus the Town being 'Black' while the County was 'White'.Inside, the town's Black community was another divide and it was best expressed in their 'womenfolk' and what was expected of them. Dominique, for all her power and influence, basically worried about her daughter dating the 'popular' Black guy because this was BBC country and women defined their positions by the masculine auras around them.In contrast, Jewel's mother didn't worry over-much about who Jewel dated, because Jewel was going to college (somewhere else). High school and high school boys were just stepping stones. BBC was still out there, but 'the Modern Black Woman' had developed a host of weaponry of their own. To the outside world, such a distinction made Jewel and her Mamma feminists.Later on Jewel was to qualify that for us; she was a Feminist with a capital 'F'. Whereas Taliyah wanted to own Mikhail's body and soul because he challenged and completed her, Jewel wanted to own us; period; all three of us Samsonov boys.Why?Excuses were for people who needed to explain themselves to their fellow losers. Winners like Jewel 'achieved' and took what rewards they wished.Apparently seeking Equal Rights was a hallmark of the unambitious, being 'just as a good as a man' was settling for less and Racial Equality implied there might be something a White Person could do that a Woman of Color couldn't do better; according to her doctrine. Had they (Jewel, her mom and our Mom) not all been Class-A Bitches, they would have gotten along famously.To be fair, had Mikhail not gone gunning for her, she would have most likely left us alone; but he did. My youngest brother is an asshole at times, as well as relentless, and after so many years having Mom controlling our social lives, he now was sexually 'off his leash'.Resume‘How about we just stick with the Cheer Squad for the rest of the week,' I tried to divert him. ‘Perhaps you might find ten other women enough for you.'‘Nope,' Mikhail shook his head and laughed.‘How about Taliyah's feelings?' I launched as a 'Hail Mary'.‘No,' he kept shaking his head. ‘I'm not boyfriend material, Vlad. Sex is too much fun. I really like Taliyah, but; no. No promises, no lies and no illusions. There is going to be no ring on my finger, or through my nose. I'll hold her hand, and hold her if she's weeping, but I'm not going to mistake sex for friendship, or vice versa. I'm 18, damn it! I want to roam.'The rest of the conversation was truncated by Ms. Blanchard's appearance. Mikhail returned to his motorcycle, Alexander got into the Mustang and she got into her battered, green 1997 Toyota Camry. Off we went. Close to the main entrance of the main building, most of the Cheer Squad was waiting for us. They were dressed in 'regular' clothes; we knew them by their faces.As soon as we rolled up, Rashaan Quinterre and a few of the football team members made an appearance. Taliyah frowned. Her frown only deepened when another cheerleader; this one White, Randi Leigh Upshaw, went into his arms. He did his best to look triumphant. Randi Leigh certainly looked pleased with herself.‘Coach is making Rashaan the new Team Captain,' she informed the crowd.‘Ha!' Mikhail laughed at the couple. ‘Anyone who thinks Rashaan Quinterre is even half the man Darius was, raise your hands.' His mockery was eviscerating. Worse, it took several seconds for several of Rashaan's teammates to raise their hands. ‘You are only Captain because your Daddy is Police Chief, not because anyone thinks you can replace Darius, you loser.'‘I'm going to kick your teeth in, Cracker,' Rashaan seethed. He had six other footballers versus Mikhail and me. How the Cheer Squad would break down was an unknown. Alexander had already deviated for the Teacher's Parking Lot. There were maybe a periphery of forty other students at that moment plus;‘Boys,' softly drawled a voice of an adult I hadn't seen before. He was a Big (as in muscular) White guy with a 'five o'clock' shadow at seven in the morning, unkempt, dark-russet hair, darting, soulless brown eyes and a weathered, sun-creased complexion.Of more critical importance he had my Samsonov Law Dog senses tingling at first sight; he was a human predator. His easy-going mannerisms were deceptive and his leadership skills were exhibited by the aura of dominion he seemed to project over the eight rednecks he had accompanying him.‘Buck!' Misty Dawn Sizemore burst forth from the Cheer Squad and ran up to the lead hillbilly. He wrapped her up in a bear hug while keeping his eyes on the rest of us. ‘I didn't think you were coming back.'‘The new nigger Principle made a deal with my wetback Parole Officer. I graduate and they cut the last three and a half years off my parole,' he replied nonchalantly.'Nigger' didn't go over well at all. It was telling to me that it took Rashaan several seconds to step up into his new leadership role. 'Wetback' on the other hand was just;‘Buck, watch your fucking mouth before you get your teeth kicked in,' Rashaan tried to sound brave, but wasn't very convincing. Buck looked him up and down, then chortled.‘Rashaan, ya ain't no Darius, Nigger,' he sneered. ‘Fuck with me and I'll gut you like the sweaty little piglet you are.' He emphasized his point by casually pushing Rashaan back a step. The light of Justice flared up against the forces of Intolerance and Intimidation.‘Taliyah, who is this latest knuckle-dragger?' Mikhail grinned at Buck.‘Your bad attitude makes you Mikhail,' Buck responded first, grinning. He'd already scouted us out; which made him even more dangerous. ‘That makes you; ,' nodding to me and since I was closer, he moved toward me for the handshake (he tried to break my phalanges and got nowhere), ‘; Vlad cause your brother Alex went hobbling off already. I'm Chester Ray Tooney, but everyone calls me Buck.'‘Hi Buck, I'm Vladimir Samsonov.'‘So, you are the guy who made Brandy's ass 'All Access',' he leered. He hadn't let go of my hand. He was about to regret that.‘Oh, so it is going to be like that then. Buck, I'll give you the same options I gave Darius on Day One. Let's settle this Man-to-Man. I'm challenging you to a duel,' I hadn't let go of his hand yet either.‘A duel?' he muttered as he pushed Misty Dawn away.‘That's a fight between two men with some semblance of rules.'‘Like an M M A bout?' he studied me.‘Sure. You dropped the insult. I issued the challenge. Now you get to pick the weapons, or lack thereof. I then pick the time and location,' I explained.‘Do this a lot?'‘You'll be the first.'‘You are really pissed over me calling Brandy a slut? Everyone knows she was Darius' hoe,' he grumbled. He'd just lost the hand-grinding war. His guys were tensing up even as I was grinding his knuckles together in my grip.‘Don't Vlad,' Taliyah spoke up. ‘Back in the day, Buck was Darius' brother Cyrus's bitch. Holding his hand might make him feel lonely.' She then taunted Buck by adding, ‘Missing Cyrus much while he's in prison?' Buck took the opportunity to sucker-punch me. To avoid the blow, I'd have had to release his hand. Instead, I took the newly proffered arm, channeled his momentum into a hip-toss and planted him on the ground.I had his wrist twisted painfully, his arm locked up and my foot was on his throat. Buck was on his back on the asphalt with a furious expression on his face.‘Motherfucker,' the closest redneck made ready to rush me.‘Take that step and I'll break his arm,' I informed them both angrily. ‘Buck, I'd appreciate it if you would apologize to Brandy now.'‘Get off me,' Buck snarled. ‘I'll fucking kill you.'‘Vlad,' Misty Dawn hesitantly reached for me.‘Vlad, let him up. He's not worth it,' Brandy intervened. When it was clear she was the one I was listening to, I backed off. I even offered Buck a hand up. Oddly, he took it; without the expected sneak attack.‘Duel, huh?' Buck scowled.‘Yeah.'‘I'll think about it.'‘I'm not hard to find,' I stepped aside as he and his group forced their way forward. His departure left Rashaan and his crew staring at me, Mikhail and the Cheer Squad once more.‘Don't worry, Misty Dawn. I wouldn't have let Vlad hurt your cousin much,' Brandy roped in her fellow cheerleader. Brandy shot me a dazzling smile in the process.‘Thanks, Vlad,' Misty smiled my way as well.What was going on? Well Brandy and Taliyah's position as leaders of the Cheer Squad

The Hoes and Bitches Need A Champion.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. ‘Once you go Black, you don't go back; unless you are an Amerindian, Arabic, Asian, Black, Indian, Latina, or White girl, or guy who has tried Black, then found sexual fulfillment with a non-Black person and created a blissful relationship with them'Introduction:Right off the bat, be warned that I'm using the 'N' words, nigger, niggah, my niggah, plus homie, thug, coon, buck, spook, spade and whatever other crude racial slurs that come to mind. This story plays to both Black and White stereotypes.Lastly, this story is rather flippant with the entire concept of sexual assault. Those who have red my previous tales know this is not my attitude at all. For the sake of this genre I had to grapple with the concept of forcing a woman and 'making them love that cock'Prelude:My tale begins as the Winter Man Saga 1300 years ago, about the year 700 AD. One small clan of my Swedish ancestors lost a brutal feud with their neighbors. Their farms were burned, animals slaughtered and their women and children taken as slaves. Only three young brother-warriors survived, wounded but unconquered. The victors chased them high into the mountains when a terrible winter storm struck.The three brothers were trudging across a glacier between the mountain peaks in Whiteout conditions. The lead brother stepped into a crevasse and slid to the bottom of the glacier. Not giving up on their last kinsman, the other two slid down into the darkness after him. At the roots of that glacier they found an ice cavern formed by snow that fell 100,000 years ago.They melted the ice for water with their body heat and in doing so, unleashed a demoness (virus) that no man had ever known and survived. The three men grew very sick, but their fierce desire for vengeance kept them from succumbing. When they emerged from their icy tomb, they discovered that several of their pursuers had frozen to death in the blizzard and the rest had returned to their stolen homes and purloined lands, thinking the three brothers were dead.In the dark of the long northern night, they snuck upon the Great Hall of their enemies. When one of the brothers saw his 'former' wife doing a slave's work, he revealed himself to her. She rejoiced at the return of her love; physically, then brought the three table scraps to survive on. In the process, they learned that their sisters were also alive and the sexual playthings of their male nemeses.Due to the depth of winter, stealing back their womenfolk wasn't possible. They'd all freeze to death if they didn't starve first. To repay their enemy's wickedness, one of the brother's snapped and raped one of the chief's daughters. He was possessed with an unearthly desire and held her in a stable for hours. Only when he was utterly spent did he fall asleep.She ran to her father and returned with many warriors. So the first of the brothers was taken. He was tortured and abused. For three long nights he suffered at the hands of his captors yet refused to admit any of his other brothers were still alive. After that third night, the chief's daughter sneaked past the sleeping guards of the chained man, and raped him.For the next five nights, while her father, brothers and husband slept, she raped and raped and raped that brother. On the fifth night, a sister-in-law caught her at it. The daughter pled for the other to spare her; that the man's sexual prowess had ensnared her. She even challenged her kinswoman to sample the 'fruit' before turning her in. Five women later, the brother cracked and told the women how to find his brothers.The night after the Spring Equinox Celebrations, the women of their enemy rose up and slaughtered all their adult menfolk at the behest of the three brothers, on the conditions that their youngest sons be spared and that the men continue to share their favors with all the womenfolk (who were not their kin).The Sammi ClanThe isolated region of the land of the Swedes kept my ancestors out of contact with the wider world for some time. Many generations later, a son of that clan came to lead a band of (female) Finns. His Swedish name is forgotten. The Finns called him Sami (the Exalted One, no shit). He and this band took to fur trading along the Eastern tributaries of the Volga.In time, this group became identified with the Varangian. The Sons of Sami intermarried with the Slavs, becoming Slavicized and the Sons of Sami became Samsonovs. They followed the Rus expansion into the eastern tributaries of the Volga reaching Nizhny Novgorod in the 10th century.Then came the Mongol Conquest, the Tartar Yoke, Rus reunification and the Russian drive across Siberia. The Samsonovs remained tightly clannish and uncomfortable in urban settings. That wanderlust led them across the Bering Straits into Alaska where their genetic abnormality, the gift of that ancient demoness (virus), slumbered in isolation and monogamy.After a thousand years, the tales of mass orgies with strange women and protective female war bands faded into obscurity. Then my Mom, the brilliant, driven eccentric came along. Once she became enraptured with her own Samsonov lover, she had to know the secret of Samsonov men's sexual prowess.With her burning intellect and educational background, she eventually figured it out. She was also amoral enough to keep the knowledge to herself and vengeful enough to plan to use our curse as a weapon.My Living Family·         Father, Nikolay 'Nik' Samsonov;·         Mother, Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov;·         The Triplets, Alexander 'Alex', Mikhail and Vladimir 'Vlad'; that's me.Sitting at the dinner table, I protested; ‘Mom, You actually expect me to believe my Father, Brothers and I have the genetic capability to addict every woman we have sex with to our schlongs? That's nuts!'Mom retorted; ‘As opposed to thinking the color, length and girth of a phallus makes any woman lose all sense of loyalty, morality and decorum so she can become a man's sex sleeve, whore, bitch, property? Yes, I do.'The lives of my family took an unexpected detour in the spring of this year. My great-aunt Matilda (Mattie) died and willed her estate to Mom. I had never met the woman while she was alive yet in death she would have a profound effect on all our lives. Mom's family was a mess; a crowded dingy with a madhouse of odd characters.Lionel was my eldest maternal uncle. He was a Big, Bulging Brain working as a Chief Technical Advisor for NASA; a solitary crusader for all Mankind. What was he a technical advisor for? If anything left terra firma for more than fifteen seconds, he knew every detail about it. That included volcanic eruptions too. When we were younger, he invited us to various volcanoes (both above and beneath the waves). Great guy.Cassius, my second uncle, was serving time in Indonesia for piracy. Mom said he was meaner than every saltwater crocodile that ever lived. The two times I'd met him, he'd been a lean, happy laconic kind of guy with a love for military history. Mom said he was a charismatic rebel who was possessed by an obsession to defy authority in all its forms.Dido was child number three; my Mom's older sister, married to an Evangelical Televangelist in Nebraska under an assumed name, Paula Richmond. She also had a MD in Psychiatry and a Master's in Public Communications (under her real name), which she kept secret from the fundamentalist congregation. The few times we met; she was the perfect mother. Secretly, we three sons wished she'd been our mother instead of our real mother. Mom said Aunt Dido was a master manipulator and wielded a cruel whip;Then there was Mom's twin, Uncle Theo, who never lived in one place, traveled all around the globe and had every law enforcement agency in the civilized world looking for him. We always receiving presents from him during all the normal holidays; like Michaelmas, Holy Week, the start of Lent, Martinmas (his favorite) and our birthdays; which arrived at random, unrelated times of the year and never from the same location.He was the only one we'd never met, but the one Mom loved the most. Dad suspected he was a narco-trafficker while Mom insisted he was too paranoid to be considered reliable for that line of work. Mom told us he'd spent his formative years killing people for Uncle Sam until one day he simply walked away from Fort Bragg and became an independent contractor.The Defense Department sent some fine, brave men from Joint Special Operation Command, to talk to Mom every few months. They made sure not to trip over the CIA and Homeland Security types who occasionally staked out our house. We boys guessed they came around every time Uncle Theo assassinated people. Mom taught us how to appreciate them in an elaborate ritual she called 'April Fool's, which became an 'any day of the year' activity.My Mom's father (I never met the guy) was a leader of a cult in Nevada. He went down, guns blazing during a DEA raid. Apparently his interests included both harems and marijuana production.Mom's mom? She left my Mother outside a dive bar in San Diego and was never seen again. She had doctorates in Biology and Physics as well as the reputation for being a certifiable Space Cadet. Mom insisted her mom hadn't abandoned her, she'd simply forgotten where she left her youngest daughter who was 15 at the time.After five days, Mom decided to join an Alternative Rock band instead of looking for the lady yet again. Seven years later, she was declared legally dead; though all her offspring believed she was still alive; somewhere; doing something.Then you had Dad's family. We had some characters on that side of the family, just not like Mom's. For starters, Samsonovs were bred for law enforcement. We'd been arresting bad guys since the 1500's. We'd been doing that in Alaska since the time of the tsars. When the Alaskan Territory was sold to the United States; well, my ancestors simply started writing their reports in English instead of Russian.Over the centuries, we had bagged serial killers, smugglers, poachers, drug dealers, domestic abusers and thieves. Mostly they arrested drunks and wackos. My Great Grandfather Petrov was a law enforcement legend in Alaska. Alone, he ran down a pack of murderous robbers in the dead of winter before they made it to 'safety' in the Yukon Territory.In the spring, they found them frozen solid, him leading five men, he recorded in his journal he'd killed the other three while apprehending the gang, back in chains. That pretty much defined the nature of my Father's family, no too many stellar geniuses, but always relentless past all norms of endurance and reason. The moment females were allowed in law enforcement, the womenfolk joined the profession.My Aunt Iliana was in the Coast Guard, that made her the 'Black sheep' in this clan. Taking the law out to the high seas was about as wild as Dad's family got. Dad was pretty much the standard issue for my kin. Big, Dad was 6' 5' and 290 lbs., and about as imaginative as a glacier. Why Mom married Dad had long been a mystery to his sons.Don't get me wrong. I loved my Dad, but the man used a grand total of twenty different sentences his entire life. The fewer words he had to speak, the happier he was. He was a nice guy, never drinking too much and I'd never seen him lose his temper. He smiled, was unerringly polite and had always been helpful and playful with us kids from our earliest memories.Grandpa, my great-aunts and -uncles, my aunts, uncles and cousins by blood were the exact same way. I mean that quite literally. We all pretty much looked alike as well. Those who married, married eccentrics. In our regular family get-togethers that translated over to the blood kin in one room saying and doing nothing (we were already cluing into some sort of primitive telepathy) and being very happy that way, while the married relations were in another room packing on the lunacy.There was no middle ground; you were either a silent, brooding peak in the Samsonov mountain range, or the aurora borealis. That left me and my brothers, we were triplets, in a precarious position. We looked like smaller versions of our Dad (we were still growing) yet were totally at the mercy of our Mother most of our young lives. Recall what I said about eccentrics and lunatic behavior. Mom was the Queen of the Asylum.Mom quickly fell in love with 'things' and she loved doing those things with family. Since Dad worked long hours, family meant my brothers and me. We could make passable pottery by age seven. Krav Maga? Screw this 'driving to some dojo in Anchorage' crap. Mom signed us up for a two week course in Israel and online lessons for a year. Archery, check. Rewiring our house and refitting all the plumbing, check.The three of us were SCA squires at age 12. Pleading to Dad was pointless. He'd smile, mess up our hair and remind us these excursions made our Mother happy aka he wasn't going to help us have normal lives. We had some ex-Green Beret guys teach us outdoor survival skills in Wyoming. We could pull wool, make thread and knit a set of pants and sweaters.I and my brothers had to memorize 1200 medically useful plants before we could get our Christmas presents when we were 14. We free-climbed mountains, ran 10Kms, kayaked, were proficient seamen on a sailing ship and learned how to navigate by the Sun, Moon and stars. Around the age of 15, we figured out that Mom had a ton of money squirreled away. There was no way Dad, with his civil servant's salary, could afford all this crazy shit.By the age of 18 we had such a crazy patchwork set of skills, we weren't sure what we would end up doing with our lives; though tracking down Uncle Theo and living a life on the run was looking more attractive every month. What we didn't have were great social lives. We all had girlfriends at one time, or another, but they never lasted.Right before any of us were about to get serious with any girl in high school, my Mom dragged us off; to things like a five day course on Renaissance artwork in Milan; that's Italy. We had to learn to speak Italian in three days, plus during the flight over. Mom made it easy for us. We could only speak Italian the entire time. Doing that at school was 'fun'. Dad? He smiled and said nothing for three days.Welcome to the Fonteneau House, Kingston, ArkansasAnyway, Mom's Great-aunt Mattie kicked the bucket and left her vast fortune in northwestern Arkansas to my Mom. The old bird hated the rest of the nutjobs in the clan, but adored my Mom (and Theo). Upon receiving the news, my brothers and I began thinking the same thing: banjo lessons, redneck stunts and girls in Daisy Dukes. By 'fortune' we were thinking a ramshackle Ozark shack sitting on a mountain top.Nope. Great-aunt Mattie was loaded. In fact, Mom's whole family had tons of money. They'd made a killing, quite literally, during the White expansion westward using various despicable means. They'd even been cursed by an entire Indian Tribe for bilking them off their land. Mom's family blamed that malediction for their bizarre behavior.That Arkansas home was actually the summer residence for the Fonteneau clan from a hundred years ago. Along with the palatial residence came thousands upon thousands of acres spread over a quarter of the state (and some land in Texas, Missouri and Oklahoma too).Tara, or the Biltmore estate, it was not, but it certainly had pretensions. It was a wide and roomy, rambling Victorian structure. The house proper (there were two barns, a stable, storage sheds, two garages, one attached and the other stand-alone, semi-attached servant quarters and four outlying hunting lodges) abutted the Kingston town limits.The place was big enough to require Mom to employ six staff;Phineas Cobb the third, an angry, sullen old White guy and his carbon-copy son, Phineas IV, were our two Wardens. That meant they took care of the outlying property which included hunting down poachers, interlopers and moonshiners (the competition, no doubt) and seeing to the upkeep of the various lodges, roads, trails and bridges around the place. Phineas the third and Mom; well, he cried and hugged Mom when he saw her, so we didn't know what to think of him and his son.Bebe Marston worked the stables and the twelve horses therein. She was a college dropout, White and 21; a woman at one of life's crossroads. Great Aunt Mattie brought her on a few months before she passed on. Bebe was a bit shy and distant around the menfolk. Mom treated Bebe like her long lost daughter; they got along fine.Thomas Freeman was the groundskeeper. Thomas seemed nice enough, a polite and somewhat deferential older Black man. I liked him. Mom fired him the moment the lawyer finished reading Maggie's Will. She believed the man was a back-biter, liar and a thief.Kamika Perry was the cook. She was a largish, plump Black woman with a large family in town. She was a tyrant in the kitchen but friendly and out-going everywhere else. She knew Mom from before; before what, we didn't know. She was close to Mom's age and was the niece of the former cook. She and Mom were cordial yet a tad formal.Nefertiti Cooke was the upstairs maid. She was a whip-tin attractive Black woman in her late-20s and joined Thomas heading out the door. Mom discharged her due to Nefertiti's sour attitude and general unwillingness to adhere to a work schedule.Anita Turner was our downstairs maid and overall manager of the other servants. Like Kamika, she knew Mom from her previous stay at the house, though Anita was already part of the staff back then. They acted like old friends though they understood the mistress-servant dynamics of their relationship.Mom solved our labor shortage by bringing in Mexicans (Hondurans actually). The two families divided up the nine rooms in the detached servants' quarters with Bebe, since Anita and Kamika lived in town and the Cobb's had their own cottage somewhere on the property.Hector Martinez became our new groundskeeper. He had a wife, Maria. Mom enrolled her in some online college courses so she could get a teaching license. They were both pretty young.Consuela Castro was our new upstairs maid. She was a single mother with a son, Gustavo (10), and a daughter, Isabo (6); they went to the local elementary school in town. Both families were very nice to us and seemed happy with their current circumstance. Since this job was their first go at being domestic servants, Mom told us to be patient and respectful while they learned the ropes from Anita and Mr. Cobb (only Mom could call him Phineas without pissing him off).My brothers and I, our Father, the Martinez's and the Castro's couldn't have predicted the shit-storm Mom was creating between our house and the dominant Black populace of Kingston along the great racial divide. The Hondurans had spent half their lives learning to keep their heads low when faced with discrimination. We didn't, nor did we know that Mom was acting with deliberate malice of forethought at that time.To help appreciate our understanding of the situation, we triplets had known a grand total of four Black people well enough to call them by their Christian names our entire lives. One was a crazy, older guy who had been a sniper at some point in his military career. By crazy, I meant he'd go off on tangents in mid conversation, or just stopping entirely. We all liked the guy.He and Granddad Samsonov were real tight. They'd served together in Vietnam and we boys suspected something bad had happened to them both, something which scarred and bound them together closer than brothers. He and Alexander went hunting all the time back in Alaska. All I knew was Morris (Grandpa's comrade-in-arms) was treated like family.That meant if Morris got in trouble, fifteen to twenty Samsonov's would show up to bail him out. That's what family meant. The other two were a retired Air Force couple, Parker and Mariana Carrington plus their infant William, that had moved in next door (that's 40 yards away in Alaska) when I was fourteen. They were in their early thirties and wanted to start a family. The woman had been pregnant with her second child when we left.My Mom and another neighbor trundled her off to a clinic during her first birth. Dad had driven fifty miles in a blizzard to get her husband, so he could witness his firstborn come into the world. The man worked as a fishing boat mechanic and had gotten stuck at work when his wife went into early labor. It was the Alaskan way to look after one another.I never much thought about minorities. There were nearly as many Native Alaskans attending my schools as White folk. The Natives knew my family going back eight generations. I had a few cousins who were 'First Peoples'. Minority? Majority? We were Alaskans and that was that.Again, I didn't think much about there being a social and economic racial crevasse when I showed up in Kingston, Arkansas. I probably would have been totally blind-sided about it if Dad hadn't done his due diligence and went to the Kingston Police Station and Davis County Sheriff's Office to report his status as an Alaskan State Trooper and register his firearms.Since we didn't know what to look for, we missed the obvious signs of trouble. The Black police officer that Dad talked to was; impolite. He informed Dad there would be no 'courtesy' given despite Dad's professionalism, i.e. he wasn't permitted to carry any of his licensed firearms. The Sheriff's department was very different.We met the Sheriff and the man got Dad to be about as verbose as I'd ever seen him. The Sheriff verified Dad's story, gave him a 90 Day permit for his sidearm and told him to make no never mind over the Town cops' hostility. He certainly seemed pleased Dad had three big, strong, strapping boys and gave Dad an application to join his department.That night, Dad informed us all at the dining room table he was considering the Sheriff's job offer. Mom was secretly pleased (like her sister, she IS an evil mastermind and master manipulator). Anita, Bebe and Kamika were eating with us as well, Mom insisted all the help do so (the Hondurans weren't with us yet), and I detected a hint of worry in their posture. I would have thought 'us' staying in the house, thus their continued employment, would be seen as a good thing.Welcome To Kingston.That night, over some late night cocoa, Mom gave the family the regional 4-1-1. Kingston was 75% Black, 20% White and 5% other. The rest of Davis County was 95% White and 5% Black and other. In Kingston, the Blacks ruled the town. All elected officials and police officers were Black. The Sheriff's department had a few Black officers, but was mostly White.It would have been all White except a combined lawsuit by Southern Poverty Law Center and N Double A CP, forced the County to 'integrate'. I asked the logical question: why hadn't the town been forced to integrate too? Mom told me that wasn't how things worked in the Lower 48. Here, Blacks couldn't discriminate; they could only be discriminated against.The Federal government said so. I was sensing shades of Uncle Theo in Mom's blanket assessment of things. My brothers and I were wrong. Mom was right. We were entering White Man's Hell aka Big Black Cock Country. Of course, Mom wasn't sadistic, or masochistic. She had a tidbit of knowledge no one this side of British Columbia was aware of, a Secret Weapon.Dad applied for and got the job of Senior Deputy, which riled some of the other (read: Black) deputies, but Dad's extensive experience and easy-going manner eased his entry into the unit. Mom remained Mom, an unconventional, beautiful, free-spirited kook. She made no effort to make friends. I was the boldest of the triplets so I asked her why.‘Do you know how your Father's family would rather hack of a hand than go back on their word?' she gazed at me intently. I nodded. When she said 'Father' instead of 'Dad', this was our cue that this was a Major Life lesson we had best memorize. ‘These people aren't like that. They will take that which is not theirs, break trusts, sully families and lie to your face.'‘These women are all bold-faced whores, cock-hungry tramps and sluts who get abortions because they don't know what color the daddy is. The males are either the kind of men who would sleep with those kinds of women, or gutless wonders who won't fight for their rights as boyfriends, brothers, fathers, fiancés and spouses.'‘This is a colored thing, right?' I guessed. I wanted to be wrong.‘Got it in one,' Mom patted me on the shoulder. ‘Most White men in town are spineless wimps, Black men jump on whatever cunt they can crack open and women of either color put up with it, even beg for it. I know because I was once like them.'‘You and Dad?' I worried. Mom gave a deep, hearty laugh.‘That is not going to be a problem, I promise you. The only man for me is your Father,' she smiled. ‘I had plenty of lovers before your Dad. Since one month after I met him, I've never been with another man, or woman, or even wanted one.' More than I wanted to know, but good news none the less.While we were moving in the small amount of belongs that had followed us from Arkansas, two Kingston cops stopped by to see what we were doing. I had spent my entire life around law enforcement who knew about me and my clan. They were always friends and people we could trust. Kingston PD was a rude awakening we weren't in Alaska anymore.They were brusque and intimidating. Their real purpose was to remind my family the house was part of the town, even if the back acreage was not. Mom snorted at their pale deception. She asked to see their warrant. They asked if there was some reason they might need one. Mom politely asked them to leave as they were trespassing.They basked in their defiance. What could Mom really do? If she went all redneck and produced a gun, they'd lock her up, pointing weapons at law enforcement was stupid. Sadly for the cops, familiarity breeds understanding too. Mom gave us the April Fools' signal. Alexander, our oldest triplet, moved the cargo truck so it blocked the officers' view of their patrol car.While Mom looked peeved, feeding the Black cops sense of empowerment, my youngest triplet Mikhail and I (Vladimir) stripped their car of all easily removable parts; the dash-cam went first. They wanted to loiter around on our property? We let them behave stupidly. We dumped the parts and our work gloves in a packing box and carried it right past them.We walked straight out the back too. There was a burning barrel which we made prompt use of, for the oily gloves and box. We had spares. Mikhail tended the fire as I picked up a broken cinder block, a heavy-duty trash bag and walked a few hundred yards to the bog near the creek that ran through our property, county land. The bag and contents went into the bog.I used a branch to make sure it sunk deep before returning. Cleaning off my boots with the outdoor hose completed my destruction of evidence. Ten minutes later a member of the Arkansas Highway Patrol stopped by to see what the problem was. Mom had called them before the sabotage had even begun. She didn't know these two personally, but she knew from earlier visits to her aunt that these two were going to give us 'attitude'.Calling the Sheriff's Department would only cause a standoff where the police had the upper hand, the whole town jurisdiction thing. By the time the HP arrived, Alexander had left with the truck so when the Highway Patrolman began expressing concern for my Mom's civil rights, the two buck butt-bandits made to leave. That didn't work out well for them.First came the circus of the discovery they were missing key parts of their vehicle and the lack of an explanation of how that had happened. Mom wouldn't let the town cops search her place. She happily let the Highway Patrolman (who happened to be Black too) look around. We'd used the hose and the burning barrel because moving was nasty, sweaty work, especially in the Arkansas summer heat.The two policemen blamed us, the triplets. Mom asked them when, in the cops thirty minute trespass, had her 'little angels' stolen the parts, why we would do such a criminal thing, and if they knew where the parts might be. The Highway patrolman was kind of curious about the length of their stay as well.The cops lied, Mom went inside and brought back the camcorder that had taken in the entire event. They were caught in the lie and all they could claim was the cargo truck had been strategically placed to block a visual to their car; as we unloaded our truck. Mom even got the Highway Patrolman to co-sign her complaint to the Arkansas State Police Criminal Investigations department.Mom knew this one wouldn't go anywhere. She had lived with cops long enough to know the value of building up a case file. Alexander was off returning the truck in another county, so he was safe. Mom called him and Dad so they could hook up before Alexander came home. She counted on the cops to be petty and they were.Alexander was on a motorcycle. When he got pulled, the city cops pulled in front of him. Dad stopped as well. Despite their continuing pressure to make Dad leave, they had no legal grounds to do so, he was Alexander's father, who would be responsible for Alex's ride if they took him into custody. Being an off-duty sheriff's deputy wasn't good enough, yet Dad's point was telling.Cops always pull up behind a suspect, not ahead of them unless they want to ignore the dash-cam evidence. Dad had pulled up in his Sheriff's vehicle behind Alexander and his dash-cam was recording everything. They let Alexander off with a Warning Ticket and departed giving father and son dirty looks. School was five days off. We checked out the property for two days. The third morning my brothers and I, on motorcycles, decided to explore Kingston.Having never before confronted such blatant racism, we weren't afraid, we were furious. We hadn't done anything to anybody. We were from Alaskan-Russian stock and had never owned a person ever, as far as we knew. We certainly weren't invested in this whole 'Black slavery, White guilt' issue. Those who gave us attitude about 'White privilege' didn't care for our counter, that saying all White people were alike was equally racist.As Mom had warned us, Black people couldn't be racist; just ask them. Mind you, many of the town's Black residents were friendly and helpful. They just weren't friendly enough to defend us from the 'haters'. At the end of the first day, Mikhail nearly got in a fight with five members of the Black post-high school crowd who were fucking with, and sitting on, our bikes.Where we came from, that was rude in the extreme. When he appeared to be alone, they were boisterous enough. When Alexander and I stepped out of the pool hall (we'd been made unwelcome there), they backed off from their threatening rhetoric. They still wouldn't leave, or get off our bikes. The three versus five odds didn't deter us.It was the lack of faith in the local justice system that encouraged Alexander and me to hold Mikhail back. We had an answer to their intransience, crowding. It takes a great deal of cool to have three guys, all over six feet tall and 220 lbs. lean in on you while you are sitting down. When the current bastard was dealt with, we moved to the next. Before the group could figure a way to thwart us, we had retrieved our bikes and were headed home.The next day, we took Mom's 2012 Shelby V8 Mustang out for a drive. We found the three spots in town the 'White folk' hung out in. We had the Country Western Redneck posse' section of town, pseudo-riche Southerner clique downtown region, and the movie theater (theoretically neutral turf). The saner White middle class had departed for safer pastures, they had established their own municipality a few miles outside of town).The rednecks welcomed our physicality. We were attempting to fit in until they began talking about all those damn 'niggahs'. Alexander broke down after a bit and asked what a 'niggah' was. It was a 'coon'. Since that was of no help, we asked what a 'coon' was.The regulars found our naiveté amusing. It took us three minutes of running a verbal obstacle course to piece together that 'niggahs' was their inbred pronunciation of 'niggers' (a term we knew from TV and movies) which was idiot slang for a Black person. We were 'crackahs', idiot slang for crackers aka White people. Hispanics were 'beeners'; yeah, right.We also learned that the favorite activities for teenage rednecks was knocking over mailboxes as they sped down the road, beating up White girls who sucked Black cock and beating up 'niggahs' who touched White girls. My analysis was that these yahoos were long on talk and short on action.I wasn't a fashion icon yet I could tell these boys could use a bath and some fresh clothes. The girls who hung around this crowd looked about as loyal as salmon during spawning season. At 18, we were hardly experienced, but we weren't desperate virgins either. Girls we had just been introduced to, flirting with us and suggesting later sexual rendezvouses were a definite turn-off because God knows who else they'd been doing it with.That led us to the riche clique. Among the guys; half were snobbish closet gays who weren't our thing. The other half were rich straight guys pretending to be rednecks. Rich White girls pretended to be friends with the rich Black girls. They were used to being pampered by their rich White boyfriends while eyeing every Black stud that crossed their path.Until they realized Samsonov = Fonteneau, they were snide. After that, they tried to convince us we were all (distantly) related. Bloodlines and riches were not the basis for what we called friends so we politely postponed any celebrations.The Cineplex was a hunting ground for all ages. White women I was pretty sure were married to someone else engaged in sexual liaisons with Blacks; be they teens, business types, or lay-abouts. We had no idea if these were random hook-ups, or affairs and we didn't really care.Having wasted nine hours of our lives we definitely wanted back, we ended up rendezvousing with Mom and Dad at his boss's, the Sheriff's, place. Whatever else he was, Robert ‘Big Bob' Carson wasn't an underpaid county employee. His home was nice, expansive, relatively new and sitting on four wonderful acres of land, half woodland/half professionally maintained lawn and gardens. He had an expansive deck with a built-in grill, hot tub and pool out back.My brothers and I had been under the impression this would be an office outing. It ended up being our two families; the five of us, Big Bob and his daughter, Brandy Crystal Carson. There was no Mamma Carson in sight and a lack of family pictures was noticed by us and our Mom. Dad and Bob (it was tough to call him Big Bob when Dad was bigger than he was) were deep in conversation at the outdoor grill when I arrived.‘Vlad, come out here,' my Dad called to me in his easy going manner.‘Brandy!' Bob shouted. I promptly showed up. Dad wasn't a passionate disciplinarian. I didn't hustle out of fear. I hurried out because I wanted my Dad to look good in front of the Sheriff. ‘Hello Vlad,' Big Bob greeted me. ‘You are a strapping lad, big like your Daddy.'That was a bit odd. I had only heard one person call my Father 'Daddy'. That was my Mom when she was feeling frisky. Mom walked around the house naked when the mood struck her (even when we had guests over) and had few compunctions about hopping into Dad's lap when she wanted attention. That was a common enough occurrence that 'us' boys had learned to sneak out of the room quietly before we were ten.Only in the last two years had we figured out part of Mom's bizarre sexual behavior was caused by Dad being utterly clueless where women were concerned. He could spot a shoplifter at a glance, or an expired car registration at fifty feet on a moonless night. I had seen a car saleswoman hit on Dad when he was getting his newest pick-up. She did everything but flash her tits and do a striptease; it all went right over Dad's head.‘Brandy! Get your ass down here!' Bob bellowed. She must have been most of the way to us because she materialized five seconds later.‘Yes Daddy,' Brandy sounded bored. I was too busy gawking to see Big Bob's reaction to his daughter's insolence.Brandy was beyond gorgeous (according to my personal standards). She had pale-blonde hair in a ponytail that clearly went past her shoulder blades. Her caramel skin was the beneficiary of countless sessions with a tanning booth. Her eyes were the darkest blue I'd ever seen. Breasts, Jesus, they were large and firm. I could tell that because she had on a pink crop-top and no bra. I could almost see the bottoms of each orb.Her stomach was muscled with a thin layer of fatty tissue to give her real womanly curves and she had curves to spare. Her waist was narrow and her hips were wide, complimenting her breast size. She had on super-short, cut-off, 'faded-almost-to-White' denim jeans that accentuated her dark skin. Her ass was to die for. A bit big but well-muscled, each a perfect hemisphere.Her thighs and calves were the product of consistent exercise. Hot, hot, hot. She had on white tennis socks (no shoes) that finished off her delectable image.‘Brandy, this is Vladimir, Senior Deputy Samsonov's son. He's going to be your boyfriend this year,' Bob announced. I had a feeling this wasn't open for debate, in his mind.‘What!' Brandy squawked.‘What?' I looked to my Dad.‘What the fuck?' Brandy turned and glared at me. I would have enjoyed her breasts bouncing more if I hadn't been eyeballing my patriarch.‘Dad?' I kept my voice calm. Brandy was fantastic looking, but I didn't want anyone dictating my social life, period. I was eighteen. Besides, Brandy was turning out to have a far less appealing personality, Pretty Princess syndrome.‘Brandy, Vladimir's a nice boy. His father is 'good people',' Bob laid out his case.How did he know I was a good boy? He was taking a lot on faith.‘I don't want to date this loser,' Brandy shouted. 'Loser'? She didn't knew me either.‘If you don't keep Vlad as your boyfriend, then no cheerleading and no dance team,' Bob glared at his daughter. This clash of wills made no sense to me.‘No way!' Brandy glanced back at her Dad, protested loudly and stomped her foot on the wooden deck.‘Well then, you need to be home at 3:20 pm every school day,' Bob threatened. ‘And I'll make sure to check up on you.' Before I could wonder about Big Bob's abuse of power, I noted the state of the art security system, cyber-nanny.Brandy turned on me in a furor. Her face was screwed up with anger, her fists were clenched and I was working double-time to not ogle the cleave she enhanced by leaning forward. Man, she hated me for reasons I couldn't fathom. I disgusted her which I didn't get either. Plenty of non-relative women had called me good-looking and handsome.I had a healthy, well-defined physique, nice thick, blonde hair and the common sense to keep my body and clothes clean and casual. My only downside I'd ever been told about was my size, I was tall for my age and 'cut'. Brandy was 5' 4'. I was 6' 2'. I had stormy grey eyes, light blonde hair the color of wheat and skin spared the ravages of acne.‘Brandy, I am as uncomfortable and surprised about this as you are,' I tried to placate her. ‘Do you want to talk about it?' She forced herself to appear calm.‘Fine Victor,' she grumbled. Worse than getting my name wrong was the look of viciousness that glimmered in her eyes. ‘We'll make Daddy happy and be a cookie-cutter couple.'‘Dad?' I tried to exit this fiasco with some decorum.‘You'll do fine son,' he responded. That wasn't helpful.‘I'll see you Monday morning, Victor,' Brandy snidely mocked me before leaving. I turned to follow her thunderous retreat.Running after her would have felt pathetic so my sedate pursuit meant she put some distance between us. She ran right into Mom, who grabbed her arm.‘I'm warning you right now,' Mom hissed. ‘Don't have sex with any of my sons.'‘That won't be a problem,' Brandy snorted. I was filth in her mind

1How secure will your polling place be on election day?

1.      We get a boatload of news sent to our inboxes every day and we scour through to find headlines we think you need to know about or will somehow enrich your lives.  Today, the stories are all about the regrets, fears and disappointments in our lives.  You’ll find out why in the Volley, on the Chris and Joe Show.

1.      Halloween is supposed to be a fun day for everyone.  Still, the greed some people show ruins the festival for everyone.  How to Halloween is on the Chris and Joe Show.

First day of an advanced university-level sex ed class.Based on a post by smalltitslovr, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Hi! My name is Samantha. I'm a 25 year old college graduate. I am about 5' 3", and I'm a very petite girl. I have black hair and blue eyes. My tits are small-ish, but they look larger because of my small figure (a 32 b chest looks more voluptuous than a 38 b does.) My ass is average. But nice and tight, because I work out quite a bit.Today, I'd like to tell you about a class I took in second semester of my sophomore year of college: Advanced Sexual Education. Here's the description from the course catalog: I attended a private research university, in southern California.Human Sexuality 3O1."Everyone takes a sex-ed class in high school that goes over the basics. That class should have covered the basics of each gender's biological systems, and the reproduction system as a whole. This class goes beyond that basic overview, and provides an in-depth study of the sexuality of human beings. The course will include discussions, demos, and lab projects. Students must be 18+ years of age."I really felt I needed to take this class. You see, at my high school, we had a one-week version of the sex-ed class, and I had been sick for the last 3 days that week. Although I had picked up many things since then, I was never quite sure what I missed, and felt that I might be missing something important. I thought this might be a good opportunity to fill in those pieces I had missed.I'd read the description of this class many times, and wondered what exactly it would entail. "Demos and lab projects" and "18+". Those two pieces of the description made me both scared and excited. Of course 18 years was the required age for consensual sex, in our state. Did that mean that we were going to be having sex in the class? Surely we couldn't be required to have sex. That would be illegal. Wouldn't it? Our university did have a few prodigy kids on campus, who were still under-age. They were banned from signing up, or even auditing the sessions. There was no online option, either.After thinking on it for about 3 weeks straight, I decided I would sign up.First Day.The first day of the class finally arrived. I'd been anticipating it since the moment I'd signed up. I'd thought about backing out several times, but reconsidered each time.I'd dressed in a tight, white t-shirt with a decal, blue jean shorts with a white belt, and flip-flops.I arrived at my classroom at 7:55; 5 minutes early. It was a very early class. I didn't see many people on campus on the way there. The class was in the basement of the psychology building. I'd never been down there before. I'd heard that's where some psych studies were held, and a few classes. It was tucked away in a corner of the building where nobody would stumble into it by accident.As I walked in, I noticed several people sitting in seats around the room. There was roughly an even mix of males to females. I found a seat in the second row, and pulled out my phone and checked social media, as I waited nervously for class to start. As I waited, I noticed most of the people in the room seemed a little nervous. Many were looking around, and a few seemed like they wanted to get up and leave.Finally, the teacher arrived; 1 minute late.She was somewhat tall for a woman (maybe 5'10"), in her early 30s. She had blonde hair, put up in a bun. She had black rimmed glasses. On top, she wore a white blouse, which was unbuttoned down to just above her bra, revealing a lot of cleavage as well as quite a bit of her mid-sized sized breasts. Over that, she wore a bright red cardigan. She was also wearing a black skirt that came to about mid-thigh, showing off very long, tan legs. On her feet, she wore 1-inch, red heels, matching her cardigan.She walked to the table at the front of the classroom, and set her bag down on it. She pulled off her cardigan, draping it over the back of the chair, which revealed her slim figure. She reached into her bag, and took out some papers; presumably, her notes."Hello class." she said, once she was ready. "This is Advanced Sexual Education. If you are not here for Advanced Sexual Education, please leave. You're in the wrong place."I looked around. Nobody left. There were 12 guys, and 8 girls, including me. The seats were arranged in 4 rows of 5, with 10 seats wrapped around the outside of the room. Some of the chairs were emptyThe teacher looked around to make sure nobody was slow to stand, then continued. "Ok. I'll introduce myself and go over some guidelines, then take roll. My name is Sharon Gladwell. You can call me Sharon. I've worked here at the university for about 5 years. This is my first year teaching. Normally, I do research for the psych department. My specialty is human sexuality and arousal. I've lead several studies on various topics including stimulation, bondage and exhibitionism."Everyone in the class seemed stunned at how openly she talked about these "behind-doors" topics."Now, some guidelines." She pulled some papers out of her bag, and passed them out. "Here's the syllabus. In there, you will find details on everything I am about to say. If, at any time, any of you feel you are not suited for this class, feel free to get up and leave. No harm, no foul."This class is designed with two goals in mind. Firstly, to educate you all on the details of human sexuality. We will study the specific of how the human body works; specifically, the similarities and differences between males and females. We will also examine how certain stimuli cause certain reactions. We will cover intercourse in detail, both traditional and non-traditional methods. We will cover fetishes of many varieties, pornography, body modification (as it relates to sexuality), and coercion."The second goal is to push your boundaries. Throughout the semester, we will have numerous demonstrations, as well as solo and group projects on the topics and concepts we are covering. By the end of this class, you should all be more open sexually, and you will have experience far beyond many of your peers, measured by both depth and breadth."There will be times during the semester when I ask you do to do things you may not be comfortable doing. You may, of course, opt out, but it will negatively affect your participation grade, which is 50% of this course. The other 50% is broken up into 35% out-of-class projects and homework, and 15% for the final multi-format exam."Any questions so far?" she asked. A few hands went up. "Yes?" she said, pointing to a girl in the third row."You mentioned demonstrations," replied the girl. "Are those going to involve guests? And how involved will they be?"Sharon smiled, and replied, "No, we will normally not have guests this semester, unless we are covering a special topic. The demos will be performed by each of you, as well as by myself. They will be very in-depth, and will usually involve grouping up to get a chance to observe the topic, and get hands-on experience. Hopefully that clarifies it. If not, it should become clear in a little bit, as we'll be doing our first demo today.""Oh; thanks; " replied the girl, quite stunned, and a little confused."Anyone else?" asked Sharon. A boy on the left side of the room held his hand up. She nodded to him."So, when we group up, will we be grouping boy-boy or boy-girl?", the boy asked."Good question. For the start of the semester, we will form groups that include both genders. As each of you have the most experience with your own gender, you will need to study the other gender more thoroughly." Then she counted out how many of each there were in the room. "I was planning on pairs; however, it looks like the numbers don't quite work out for that. If we start with coed pairs, that'll leave four extra boys. So we'll have two groups of 3, with an extra boy in each, and two boys with me."The boy grinned, "Thanks. That's what I was hoping.""I'm sure it was," replied Sharon, with a bigger grin. "Any other questions?" There weren't any. "Alright then. We'll move on to roll-call. Some days, including today, I'll give you a question for the day. When I call your name, you will stand, answer the given question, and strip off your clothes. Normally, you will remove all of your clothing, but since it's the first day, you'll only be required to remove two articles of clothing. Shoes, socks, and jackets do not count."That got everyone's attention. There was no mention before that anyone would be stripping. It was implied, due to the fact that hands-on demos would probably require nudity, but this confirmed it."Today's question is an introduction," Sharon said. "You'll state your name, age, where you're from, and whether or not you are a virgin. We'll start with me. As I said before, my name is Sharon. I'm 32, and I'm from San Francisco. As I'm sure you have all guessed, I am not a virgin."With that said, she unbuttoned her blouse and removed it, placing it on the desk. Underneath, she had a sexy white bra, with black lace accents. Next, she unzipped the side of her skirt, and slipped it down her long legs, revealing a matching g-string.Now that her clothing was removed, I got my first good look at her body. She was slim, in a fit kind of way; she definitely worked out regularly. Her legs seemed to be miles long. She had one noticeable tattoo: some sort of tribal pattern, wrapping around the bottom of her tits. She was very tan; she must sun bathe quite a bit."Now your turn. First up, Tony Baker"A boy on the right side of the room stood up and introduced himself. "Hi I'm Tony Baker. I'm 19, and I'm from Texas. I am not a virgin." He pulled his shirt over his head. He had a tan body, with six-pack abs. Next, he pulled off his shoes and socks, then pulled his pants off, revealing a pair of red boxer briefs, which were tented slightly. Apparently I wasn't the only one who found Ms. Gladwell attractive."Nice to meet you Tony. You may take your seat. Next up, Mindy Hayes"She proceeded to call out each student's name. About half-way through, she called "Christina McCoy"Christina stood, and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do this." She grabbed her bag and quickly walked out of the classroom."No worries" said Ms. Sharon. "Would anyone else like to leave?" At that, a terrified white boy also left.She continued down the list, and nobody else left. Each student stood, said their name, age, and virginity status, and stripped off their shirts and their bottoms.Here's a summary:·         Mindy Hayes - 19 year old white girl from Boston. Virgin. Wearing pale blue matching bra and panties.·         Alex Myers - 18 year old white boy from Ohio. Not a virgin. Wearing black boxer shorts.·         Dave Evans - 24 year old white boy from Georgia. Virgin. Red boxer briefs.·         Darrell Wade - 23 year old white boy from Louisiana. Not a virgin. Grey boxer briefs.·         Latoya Gilbert - 21 year old black girl from Chicago. Not a virgin. Red bra and panties.·         Filipe Allen - 24 year old Portuguese boy from San Francisco. Not a virgin. Red boxers.·         Eric Ramirez - 22 year old Hispanic boy from San Diego. Virgin. Blue boxer briefs·         Ken Sharp - 21 year old white boy from Kansas. Virgin. Tighty whities·         Billy Daniels - 19 year old white boy from New York. Not a virgin. Black boxers·         Barbara Foster - 20 year old white girl from South Carolina. Not a virgin. Pink and black boy shorts, and a pink push-up bra·         Roberto Walters - 18 year old Hispanic boy from New York. Not a virgin. Black and white boxers.·         Irene Hunter - 21 year old white girl from Wisconsin. Not a virgin. Dark blue sports bra and matching panties.·         John Gibson - 19 year old white boy from Connecticut. Virgin. Black boxer briefs·         Amy Powell - 18 year old white girl from Maine. Virgin. Purple g-string and a white shelf bra·         Sofia Mendez - 18 year old Hispanic girl from Ohio. Not a Virgin. Green g-string and matching lacy bra·         Kent Doyle - 23 year old white boy from Colorado. Virgin. Bronco's boxers (orange and blue)·         "And, last but not least, Samantha Rivera."I stood up. I was shaking a little. I was quite nervous. I'd been somewhat of an exhibitionist before, and I'd been naked in front of people before, but not in this kind of setting. But the biggest thing that was getting to me was the anticipation. The whole time I watched people strip, I knew my turn was coming. I was also nervous because I had slightly less clothing than all the other girls."I'm Samantha. I'm 19, and I'm from Colorado. I am not a virgin." I paused. "Um. Ms. Sharon; ""Yes, Samantha, is there a problem?" she replied."Er; .well; .I'm not wearing any undergarments. I usually don't. They make me uncomfortable.""Ah. An exhibitionist. I see. Well, it doesn't make much difference. Everyone will be stripping completely, starting tomorrow. You'll just have to do it a day early. If you're uncomfortable with that, this class probably isn't for you. Feel free to leave, if you'd like.""Um. No, I'm okay." I had a feeling she'd say something to that effect, but part of me was hoping she'd cut me some slack. Maybe let me keep my shorts? But, at the same time, I was also hoping that she wouldn't. :)So, I proceeded to strip. First, I kicked off my flip-flops. Then I grabbed the bottom of my shirt, and slowly pulled it over my head. Everyone got a good look at my B-cup breasts, with my arms over my head. I dropped my shirt onto my bag, then continued. I undid my belt, then the button on my jean shorts, then the zipper. I hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, then peeled my tight jean shorts off my naked body. As I did, I bent over, giving everyone behind me a good look at my ass and a small bit of my cunt. I picked my shorts up, and placed them on my bag. I smiled, and sat down, crossing my legs and my arms, which covered all the important bits."Excellent, class. Now that introductions are out of the way, we'll move on to our first topic: the human body. Today, we'll be going over the non-genitals. You may ask: 'what does that have to do with Sexual Education?'"Well, as we'll find out several times throughout the semester, sexuality doesn't require genitalia, or even nudity. An orgasm can be a achieved in other ways. For example, you can make someone cum just by massaging them in non-sexual places, although I doubt we'll see that today."Now, let's pair up for our first demo. First I'll call out pairs, then we'll see who is left."When I call your name, the girl should get up and move to the guy. First pair. Samantha, you're with Tony."I stood up, and walked to the right side of the classroom. Everyone watched me as I went and I felt like I had 100 eyes glued to various parts of my naked body, although it was really only 34. But that's still a lot! I took an empty seat next to Tony.Sharon continued pairing every girl with a guy. When she was done, she said, "We have four guys left. Two will join me: John and Eric. The other two will join a pair of their choice."The remaining two guys stood and approached Tony and I.Sharon laughed. "I see you are both attracted to the lovely Samantha and Tony here. Unfortunately, we won't get to foursomes until later in the semester, so, since Alex got up quicker, he can join Samantha and Tony, and Filipe can join another group."Filipe looked disappointed, but he walked away and joined another pair. Alex sat down in an empty chair on the other side of me."Now, we'll be covering back massages first. Each male stand behind your female, and rub her shoulders, neck, and back. Remember: no

Barbie Lynn's GeneticsIn 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.  “Nymphomania, while enticing to consider, is still utter madness when experienced.”"Why Mr. Zane, my Barbie Lynn has told us so many wonderful things about you," she sounded so sugary that the honeyed words flowed off her tongue in a manner that was barely coherent. Also, her eyes flickered to the shower where I'd nailed Barbie Lynn repeatedly for forty minutes not all that long ago. Next to me Thomas grunted something that sounded like 'hello'."I'm sure she's exaggerated to my betterment," I pulled that banter out of my tush, my brain was suffering catastrophic blood loss."I can't wait to live in this dorm next year," Laramie came across with a nearly a molasses like drawl as well. "Zane, will you let me use this room next year?""Dude! This is your room?" Jefferson perked up. "Mom, I have to come here next year!""Um, yes Laramie, I'm going to hold this room open to every girl, and perhaps guy, in the dorm. I don't need much space," I said, "so keep out of the way of housekeeping and we are good. Also, you are immune from Handmaiden's Duty while here.""Oh, I was thinking about the game stations, satellite dishes and cable hook-ups," Jefferson added. Jefferson Davis, that name rang a bell."Come on now Honey, a man can't go to a women's," Savannah let that sentence die unfinished. For me, it was keep the lone male status quo; or to get a good night's sleep'."Mrs. Masters, I offer a thin hope for your son; if your daughter could line up some upstanding seniors and juniors, he might slip in under the Zane Exception to the enrollment policy," I told her."You'd do that for Jeff?" Savannah took off her sunglasses and bit one of its arms."Ma'am, I'd wrestle an alligator blindfolded for your daughter. I would certainly put in a good word for her brother," I smiled. I had no idea how tough alligators could be but I knew about crocodiles and those were some mean mothers in their own right. Still, faced with alligator wrestling or no anal-sex with Barbie Lynn, I was getting a belt, handbag and new shoes, damn it.The odds of getting Jeff in were long, Victoria barely suffered Heaven being around, and it would take an act of the Southern Baptist Convention to bring in a male to replace me when I was gone."It would give your Father another option for Jefferson if you could do this Barbie Lynn," Savannah politely replied."That would be great," the kid rejoiced. Yes, he was a fully functioning teenage male."Zane can move mountains when he sets his mind to it," Barbie Lynn winked at me. Thomas saw it but was caught off-guard."Let me show you my bedroom," Barbie offered her kin. They turned and the women sashayed away while Jeff had an almost run-in with Raven and 'company'. Each woman shot a look over their shoulder and smiled at me at some point along their journey which boded trouble."I apologize, Zane," Thomas mumbled. "I thought, deep down, you were weak for submitting to your lusts. Now, I don't, I don't think that anymore.""Don't sweat it," I smiled. "It is only another day for me ending in y.""And don't you be forgetting about me, and how tough it has been resisting Zane," Vivian warned the man she was hoping to marry."A wife should obey her husband," he started, "and a husband should know when to shut up."Lunch and what comes afterI dropped Ms. Reveal's lunch off with just enough sassiness to make her smile and believe that our bad episode was behind us. She sent me to the Vice Chancellor's office a minute later, and while Doctor Victoria Scarlett was conversing over the phone, I felt comfortable to set her meal up in front of her and mine across her desk.Victoria only had this canned ice tea in her mini-frig so I swiped two and set one before her and opened mine. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, it was pretending to be Southern Ice Tea and I pretended to like it. The best thing I could say about it was it was cold. This was our fourth "working" lunch where she would insidiously fill my head with her philosophy and I'd causally remind her that women ran this government, not me; I was a figurehead."What are you doing for New Year's Eve?" she inquired as she daintily cleaned off some crouton crumbs on her cheek. Her look was very intense. I wasn't getting 'quite' sexual signs from her but something, somehow this was personal. That could only mean one thing."I'm spending it with Ms. Rio Talen but no set location has been chosen," I replied."Oh," she paused then, "There is a Science Fiction convention in Seattle that runs from December 29th to through the 1st. My friends and I are attending and Hical asked about you.""Deal but we have to fit Rio in," I agreed."I can send some Universe, TV and movie series and well as costuming information for her to look over," Victoria agreed tentatively."No need, she's a Klingon, a small craft captain whose Father betrayed the Empire and whose survival is a stain on her honor," I told her. "With that barely constrained fury, she's a natural. You teach her how to use that bat-a-rang and,""Batleth," Victoria interjected."Wicked-curved-bladey thing," I continued, "and you'll see. Oh, I'll need an Orion Slave Girl outfit and some green body paint for Mercy and all of her stuff by October 30th, cost is not an object.""I'll call my outfitter when you leave and I must say you are taking this rather well," Doctor Scarlet noted."Why? I had a blast in your office that time," I admitted. "As long as I'm not crawling in, screaming fur-balls, I'm okay. I'll be a human Starfleet Doctor Xeno-biologist who has done surgery on multiple species. A "Doctors Without Borders" kind of guy. I'll get Cordelia to build me an actual tricorder, trust me."We ate, she asked for my sizes, I gave her Rio's and Mercy's sizes; at the Con we were all 'Next Gen' except Mercy who would be Old School for Halloween. She offered me a chance to be a Borg but since they all looked to be in desperate need of a sun tan, I declined. All in all, it barely took twenty minutes."You did a very good job as Mediator this morning," the Vice Chancellor added as I made to leave."It is not so rough," I grinned. "WWKSD?""Wha, oh," she smiled warmly. "What would King Solomon do, clever.""Hell, the Bible has a whole book called Judges. This shit ain't so hard," I laughed as I breezed out the door. Ms. Reveal was waiting, as was Heaven.Heaven had to exert some will to not kiss me on the spot. Christina had lectured us on P D A, public displays of affection, during Homecoming. The more people who knew about us, the more the outcry and the stronger Chancellor's radical decision to keep Heaven on as part as the student body, would be challenged. As it was, our hands would casually brush one another until we got inside my dorm where I chased Heaven up the stairs, pinching her ass every time I caught up.After entering my code, I gauged Heaven's mood deciding we needed some quiet time; there would be too much traffic over most of the floor, and Heaven being too vocal, to get away with sex; and cuddling would be fine anyway. I caught sight of Rio with one of my Marksmanship team mates, Genesis."Hey Zane," Genesis stood up. She was a weird one, going from borderline contempt to grudging respect over the last two weeks. If I didn't know the impossibilities, I'd think she had a boyfriend. "Hope wants everyone at the Amory for an equipment check at seven. We leave at 8:15."Heaven held my hand tightly."Boudoir occopodo," Rio snickered as Genesis made her exit.Heaven's grip nearly crushed my hand, ouch."Babe," I whispered to Heaven, "let me check this out."I disentangled myself and went for the wall of screens that separated my bedroom area from the rest of the floor."Get some popcorn and get ready to sit a spell," Rio joked to Heaven who grumbled. I went around to see who, or whom, were using my room.Inside was not what I expected. Savannah Belafonte Masters had taken off her top (which was peach) and was rummaging with growing frustration through Barbie Lynn's bra drawer. I saw some grape juice splashed on her beige skirt. She saw me, pulled up her shirt to cover her bra-covered assets while looking a bit fearful and upset."What are you doing in here?" she asked softly."It is my bedroom," I replied. "What are you doing in my bedroom?""But, but Barbie Lynn's stuff is in here," she gasped."That would because it is her room too, we sleep together," I answered. That slowed her up for a second. "Can I help you with something?""I, I, I spilled juice on my shirt," she began."And your skirt," I pointed out.""Oh no," she choked back a sob. "What am I going to do? I'm a mess and none of Barbie Lynn's bras, shirts, or skirts are going to fit me." I mused over that for a second."I've stashed some bra extensions around here somewhere and that should allow for the difference is sizes between you and Barbie," I said. "Now give me your skirt and I'll find a replacement." She hesitated so I added. "I'm not going to molest one of my best friends' mom, Savannah. Give me your skirt and I'll take care of everything." This time she did it, though I had to turn my back.I padded back out to Rio and Heaven who had just returned with the popcorn."Rio, Heaven, I need you to break into Chancellor Bazz' residence and steal a skirt like this," I offered up Savannah's."Hell yeah," Rio exulted. "Time for a little Breaking  Entry.""Oh, what the fuck," Heaven shrugged. "Count me in." She gave me a quick kiss and the two miscreants headed out on their nefarious mission. I went back to the bedroom and stumbled into Savannah, now with her bra off, eyeing two of Barbie Lynn's double barreled slingshots. Our eyes locked."Right," I spun away. "Bra extensions.""Zane, do you think I'm attractive?" Barbie Lynn's Mom asked.When women say that, they can mean three things;·         the truth,·         the lure, or·         the lie.Some women want to know if you find them attractive. Others want you to find them attractive for nefarious means. Lastly, a few woman want to be reminded that they are beautiful. Savannah was the latter."If you are asking me if you are as good looking as Barbie Lynn, Mrs. Masters, I'll have to say no but that's because you are a lady who is fully a woman and Barbie Lynn is still leaving some of the girl behind. There is no comparison. You are both hot," I affirmed."I don't know," she sighed. "It is with my husband, then seeing you and Barbie Lynn, in the shower,”What's wrong with you and your husband, if I may intrude?" I asked."He had an accident at work, one of his factories, and he hasn't been the same," she sniffed."Do you love him?" I questioned. "Honestly.""Yes, yes I do," she sighed. "But he's just not there.""Do me a favor; come over and sit next to me and I promise to be as well behaved as a Montana Miner (hey, it is where my family comes from)," I said as I sat at the foot of the bed. Savannah very, very reluctantly came over and sat at my bed, but I said nothing."Yes?" she broke down and inquired finally."I want you to laugh," I related to her softly. "Laugh, laugh like you do with small kids.""But, I'm not sure," she began then I poked her in the ribs. "What?" So I tickled her under her arms. Savannah covered her breasts by mistake so I got some finger in and began making her giggle and squirm."Stop it," she gasped for breath, so I rolled onto my side and tickled her other underarm until she finally flailed in surrender."See Savannah, I'm not the bad guy," I grinned. "I'm not seducing you because I think you love Barbie Lynn's Dad and you simple need to worry a little bit less, and love yourself a little bit more.""How do I do that?" she panted."I want you to try on some of Barbie Lynn's new clothes and see what you like, and what your husband might like," I suggested. "I'm not asking you to dress like a teenager; but not every day is Sunday school either." Oh God, I was talking clothes therapy to someone's Mother."But," she stammered."There is a screen right over there," I pointed out, "that you can change behind and the armoire over here has a mirror.""But I'll be parading around here, in my bra and panties," she worried."Well, that's a bonus for me," I shrugged, "but a lady with a body like yours should be wearing bikini's with less material. Look at it that way.""Well, don't ogle, alright?""Sure," I lied. What was I going to say? 'I'll pluck out my eyes?'After several tentative steps walking to the dresser and looking over her shoulder at me with real worry that I might find her either too attractive or not attractive enough, I gave up. I covered my eyes because they gravitated toward her backside like a plant seeking the sun. A minute later she finally spoke up.

Sandwiches?In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             “Some masks hide who we are. Others show who we want to be”              I could bowl Mercy over with a feather. Rio and I are doing the same social mechanics and come to the same conclusion. There are three reasons to marry a gay guy;1.      money,2.      social pressure and3.      camouflage.Felicity doesn't need the money, so we simply assumed it to be number two. We totally missed the other reason; Felicity is a lesbian. Rio takes it in her slow and easy style. She walks up and puts Felicity in a gentle Mercy, Felicity, Rio sandwich."I am going to have so much fun breaking you in," Rio whispers affectionately to Felicity. "When you get good at it, I'll let you play with Mercy, she likes to be played with but you have to be firm. Do you like it firm and hard, my most favorite and annoying little Ass-Tramp?" Subtle like a freaking tsunami. Mercy recovers from her shock to nod her head vigorously."What about Barbie Lynn?" Felicity inquires with velvet hunger."She's Zane's," Rio informs her. Felicity looks a bit disappointed. "Zane shares her though, so don't expect her to fall in love with you," then leans in and up, "but you'll find out her lips, titties and ass are to die for. Now let's go back to my room and let me show you some things," Rio grins, looks over her shoulder and gives me a wink. Who's room?Barbie Lynn pats my ass then skips after the trio."We are going to lube up Mercy and try out some of the basics," Rio instructs Felicity. "We'll see what intrigues you then I'll send you home with some toys to practice with and, well, loosen you up a bit. Mercy didn't become fantastic overnight. I had to work on her a lot. See,” and the conversation is drowned out by the rest of the students on the floor.No one has batted an eye about Mercy, Rio, and/or Felicity either. Maybe I really am the downfall of the Judeo-Christian tradition after all. Rio is taking responsibility for Mercy. Mercy just stepped out to the World as her true self, a tiny, tiny step anyway. Barbie Lynn is playing Dorm Mother in spades and in a manner way beyond the Handbook's job description.Valarie, Vivian and Iona have gathered together then when Vivian finger-beckons me over. I saunter over to see what's going to go wrong with my life next, and if they have any Tribbles hiding there I'm going to burn the little bastards in the sink. That's not what brings me over."All the Advocate-candidates have been approached and agreed to serve," Vivian seems amused to inform me. "They want what little ceremony exists to be performed and the Advocates sworn in at 9pm.""Has someone worked on an Oath of Office," I groan. 'To one's self be true', what else can I say?"It seems some of the prelaw students actually had a little contest and they've put something together," Vivian smiles warmly. "It has been downloaded to your phone, it is under Advocate Oath of Office.""Why are you being such a smart ass?" I look her over. "Hasn't my day been bad enough?""Zane, have you seen your phone log for the past twelve hours?" Vivian asks me. I have been ignoring my phone, in fact. I check it now and I bless those hard working Taiwanese and the huge memory capacity they've put in my global lifeline; otherwise my phone would have melted down hours ago.Fuck, I have phone calls from people I don't even know, who live in, France, Germany, Brazil and Belarus? I rack my mind to remember where Belarus is, blonde-haired, blue eyed Slavic ladies, now I know! The viewing of Star Trek humiliations seem to be universal but at least they don't know my name or face. There is some serious Time Lord Mafia paddling over this one. They've used my damn private phone number."When do you think you'll talk to Rio," Iona asks cautiously."I'll take care of that right now, while she's feeling happy and playful," I comfort Iona. "Besides, it could be worse; everyone is looking for a pudgy Sasquatch, not me." The three ladies all stare at me. "Oh fuck," I groan."Well," Vivian looks away (oh hell), "the footage sort of shows you taking a shower plus your name and phone number.""But your transformation into is a fur-ball is truly precious," Valarie comforts/mocks me. "All my gal-pals out West think you are so cute; Phoenix, one of my Mom's jailbird friends, even used the 'too cute' emoticon and I didn't even think she knew what emoticons were. She sent it to all her buds still in lock-up too.""Great, I'm popular in a women's correctional facility, at least it is in another state," I sigh upward. I pray to God that never becomes relevant. "Hell, I have a housewife in Belarus she wants me as a house pet.""What does she look like?" Valarie seems curious."How would I know?" I am somewhat offended. Valarie takes my phone but I don't resist too much. She scrolls a bit then hits the number. "Don't call her," I bark. Valarie laughs then hands me my phone back.She shows me the 'entirety' of the girl's message. Nice bikini, or what there is of it and I can't imagine it being too practical that far north. She is divorced, with a one year old son, 22 years old and fresh out of college with a job as a PR specialist for a real estate development firm. She also speaks seven freaking languages, I feel like such an underachiever right now, or male underwear model.Maybe I'll make her a pen pal ~ she's a half a world away. I should be safe. Right now I can't play it safe though; I have to go play with Rio and I know that violates my health insurance under the 'feeding dangerous animals' clause."Zane," Iona offers to take my phone so I give it to her (why should I distrust her right?). Her delicate little fingers fly across it then she hands it back. "You now have a fifteen minute warning," she is trying to be helpful."Paige seems to have vanished," I request, "so when you see her, tell her to give us some peace please." The three of the saner women I know give me a nod.I round the final screen and there is my sleeping platform. Barbie Lynn and Felicity are examining a stunning large collection of sexual aids (that my credit card must have paid for), which Rio is sedately explaining to them, sort of what you would expect from a Mary Kay or Avon saleswomen. Mercy is bent over the bed, pushing up her ass by standing on her toes, skirt and panties gone and surreptitiously undoing her blouse buttons when she thinks Rio isn't looking.Mercy even flashes a precious grin my way when she sees me. It is the 'Weeee! I'm about to get fucked' look. While amiably chatting away, Rio puts her hand over one of Felicity's hands and leads it over to Mercy's flank. Felicity puts up a token resistance."Do that again and it will cost you," Rio purrs. Felicity stares at Rio's feral nature, seeing her truly for the first time then obeys. "Good girl," Rio coos in Felicity's ear.That reminds me what I've forgotten to do today, the air filters. I look around the various wardrobes for some sort of precision tool like a baseball bat, crowbar, sledgehammer, fire axe or chainsaw, I have a cricket bat? What the hell am I doing with a cricket bat? Isn't that the National sport of India; is it even played on this continent? It may be one of a kind; I'll spare it."Zane!" Rio snaps. Apparently she's been calling my name for a second or two."Yeah Bro, what do you need?" I answer. I'm not being attacked by someone so she must need something from me."Felicity is self-conscious about being naked in front of us girls," Rio grins. "Could you pick out a swimsuit for her that is conservative and demur?" In Rio-speak that means three small circle Band-Aids and some dental floss."What color would you like Felicity?" I ask. She says white; I groan because when you sweat/drip on white it becomes translucent. Maybe she's teasing me.I pick out a Rio-approved set (she has a whole drawer labeled 'Slut Wear' after all), hides it from her until I walk around and hand the 'suit' to Rio.Top lesson:1.      Rio is in charge.Rio approved approves the look suit then hands it to Felicity."You expect me to wear this?" Felicity gasps."That's going to cost you Sweet-cheeks," Rio grins wickedly."I can't wear this," Felicity stammers. Rio puts a finger to her lips to stop Felicity from saying anything else."I apologize, Ms. Tolliver," Rio nods, "I think you are in the wrong place. Thank you for the books; good-bye now." Felicity is looking back and forth between Rio, Barbie Lynn, Mercy and me. Barbie Lynn gives Felicity a friendly shrug; I mirror that gesture while Rio takes up a medium lavender dildo, a bottle of lube and pours an expertly delivered thin stream on the tool and Mercy's asshole as if they are one. She's pointedly ignoring Felicity.Felicity is a 'Prom Queen' type and now some jumped-up freshman has dismissed her like she is nothing; I doubt that has ever happened before. On the other hand, Rio is brazenly open with her sexuality and sexual desires; a freedom Felicity has always felt denied her. Felicity almost makes a crucial mistake but I catch her starting to form the words 'I'm sorry' to me but I redirect her with a tilt of my head."I apologize," Felicity whispers."Zane, could you take over for me please," Rio says. I step around to her far side and start working my dildo slowly into Mercy's rectum. She wiggles her ass playfully to the intrusion. Rio steps up to Felicity, rises up on her tiptoes and grips Felicity's head firmly but gently. Rio tries to kiss Felicity but I can tell the taller blonde's jaws clench and her body stiffens."One last chance," Rio insists. She lets the implications sink in then kisses her again. It is a close thing but Felicity finally breaks down and let's Rio's tongue master her tongue, mouth and lips. Felicity moan eradicates a decade of repression and denial and it is with some reluctance that the taller blonde lets the short, darker Rio settle down. Rio presses a finger to Felicity's lips again."This is going to be the last time I'm nice to you for some time," Rio begins. She stops Felicity from speaking once more. "Zane and I are closer than family, he's number 1 in my book; there is no other. I will call you whatever I want to call you and you will not talk back. My safe words are 'That fucking hurts' or clapping your ankles together if you can't speak.""Mercy is mine; hurt her and I will bury you, my hand to God. Outside of that, I will use you like I want to. I will show you things you've only read about, make you dress in clothes that terrify you, and press you as hard as I can because I care about you Felicity. Are you a virgin?" Rio inquires."Yes," Felicity moans somewhat frightened."Your vaginal virginity is yours, your oral and anal virginity are mine," she explains. "When I say come over, don't make excuses, bring your ass to wherever I am. I am going to be hard on you and give you to my friends to play with because it amuses me, clear? Are you okay with this; if you aren't, this is your last chance to back out because I will hunt your ass down after tonight.""I can, I'm okay with this," Felicity says with less trepidation."Okay Bitch," Rio growls, "Take off your shoes, panties and skirt; pick out the paddle you think you deserve to be spanked with and bed over the bed. That shirt better not be in the way. Oh, you are leaving your bra with me tonight, go home without it. You only wear panties if you have my permission as well.""Yes,” Felicity falters."Call me Rio," she clarifies. "I'm not afraid of who the fuck I am. You've looked down at people like me all your life and now you are going to be as degraded as what you wanted me to go through. Payback is a bitch.""Yes Rio," Felicity confirms softly."Well, get to it," Rio snaps and swats Felicity's ass. "I want to waste some time on my beautiful, wonderful, annoying slut here," she moved to Mercy, "and her tricky little self has been taking off her clothes without my permission." The slap Rio plants leaves a red handprint on Mercy who exhales contentedly at Rio's attention. "Oh, you've been a naughty little fuck-slut, and you are wetter than the damn river," Rio whispers in Mercy's ear as one hand pumps the vibrator in her ass and the other strokes her wet cunt.Yeah Rio, that's putting the fear of God in Mercy, right. Felicity takes the most-wicked looking paddle available and I've never even seen Rio consider using."Bro, we have a meeting at 9pm so we need to break it up in about an hour," I give the bad news."Zane, damn, take over Mercy once more; I trust you with her but I want tears and if you could get her to bite up a ball gag, I'd appreciate it," Rio asks. Mercy has been placated and her position with Rio affirmed. She's a happy little Bottom once more because Rio finds her annoying, which means 'love' when translated into sane people-speak."Barbie Lynn, warm her up for me," Rio requests of the blonde bombshell as she falls on Felicity's behind's like a Bedouin dying of thirst. I can see Felicity about to turn and plead for Barbie Lynn's attention because she mistakenly believes BLT will be hesitant. Boy, she's in for a surprise. Barbie Lynn's thumbs push the base of Felicity's softly resistant ass up and apart.Barbie Lynn is lapping like a dog at Felicity's cunny alternating flicks of the tongue along the labia and short, rapid intrusions."What kind of sick masochist are you?" Rio snarls, waving Felicity's chosen paddle before her eyes. "I use this to crush the skulls of rogue water buffaloes; where was I supposed to hit you; on the asses of your ancestors cause that was where you were headed? What the hell was this even doing in my collection anyway?""Also, what are you doing with your bra still on? I'm going to want those bad boys milked before you escape tonight," Rio grumbled."You didn't,” Felicity starts to protest even as Barbie Lynn twirls her toward orgasm."Shut up!" Rio hisses. "Barbie Lynn, teach her a lesson." Barbie Lynn frees up one hand long enough to give her one 'moderate' spank. "Where is Paige; I need her nimble, spider-like finger of Evil."I can't seem to spot her so Paige is forced to clear her throat, she has carefully hidden herself behind my, pillow; she's hiding by the simple expedients of being in semi-darkness and being very still. It is so eerie I almost love her, love her."Jesus H. Christ," Rio jumps. "I'd put bells on you but I'd probably end up with them in my cunt, now that actually, focus Rio!" she chastises herself."Paige, help me strip my latest toy down and give her nipples a stress test," Rio requests."Deal, but you need to do me one favor," Paige starts crawling over toward Felicity."Sure, now get snappy," Rio urges her on as starts to pull Felicity's shirt over the girl's head."Forgive me for forcing Iona to help me and the Time Lord Mafia," Paige cashes in her favor immediately. It is all the more self-sacrificial in that I suspect Cordelia kept Paige out of the whole plot."Bitch," Rio seethes at Paige, "if you messed up Iona I'll still find a way to make you pay, I promise you.""You granted me a favor," Paige reminds Rio cautiously."Zane, do something," Rio pleads."I've already sworn not to make the responsible parties pay, beyond what Cordelia has already granted me," I grin. "I get Paige's ass whenever I want, how often I want, until the end of October," I add.Paige lowers her head and trembles with fear and anticipation; the 'threat' of anal sex is something Paige and I are working through plus, since Paige fears it, Rio will love the fantasy vision of Paige squirming on my 'meaty pole', see Barbie Lynn's thesaurus. Rio can't get away from Paige fast enough, falling into the narcotic pleasures of Mercy's treasures.Rio is often misunderstood; pain is a daily part of her life brought about by her blatantly aggressive lifestyle and the wraiths of her past. Mercy isn't in any danger; she could hardly be safer at the moment, figuratively speaking. Mercy's ass and cunt are getting a workout to the point I'm afraid that Rio is going to shove that dildo all the way into Mercy's colon and Rio's tongue might end Mercy's 'pesky' virginity by tongue-muscle action alone.

Hablamos con la consejera de Cultura Rebeca Esnaola, y con el artista, docente e investigador Patxi Araujo

Prashant Nayak, a Cloud Solutions Architect at Microsoft, gives us a quick background on AVS and enlightens us with the latest updates in migration and licensing to support customers wanted to move to Azure.   Media file: https://azpodcast.blob.core.windows.net/episodes/Episode499.mp3 YouTube: https://youtu.be/ut-iUJZXtI4 Resources: Microsoft and Broadcom to support license portability for VMware Cloud Foundation on Azure VMware Solution | Microsoft Azure Blog Introducing the VMware Rapid Migration Plan | Microsoft Azure Blog Tutorial - Network planning checklist - Azure VMware Solution | Microsoft Learn Introduction to the Azure VMware Solution adoption scenario - Cloud Adoption Framework | Microsoft Learn Enterprise-scale network topology and connectivity for Azure VMware Solution - Cloud Adoption Framework | Microsoft Learn Run VMware resources on Azure VMware Solution - Training | Microsoft Learn Azure VMware Solution Documentation Hub - Azure VMware Solution | Microsoft Learn Azure VMware Solution Videos - YouTube (Videos)   Other updates: https://techcommunity.microsoft.com/t5/azure-observability-blog/advanced-network-observability-for-your-azure-kubernetes-service/ba-p/4176736 https://azure.microsoft.com/en-us/updates/v2/Databricks-Jobs-Serverless-Compute https://azure.microsoft.com/en-us/updates/v2/interactive-serverless-compute-AU https://azure.microsoft.com/en-us/updates/v2/DLT-Serverless-Compute  https://azure.microsoft.com/en-us/updates/v2/Cross-Subscription-Load-Balancer

Trouble In ParadiseBy PtmcPilot – listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents' house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, it was good work if you can get it.It was 10 hundred hours on the first Thursday of my first week at Foxx Inc. when I was reminded that, as much fun as it was, fucking, or rather servicing, the women of the firm was still a job. The best, most awesome, craziest fun job possible, yes, but still a job.10:00 when I received my first all-too-terse email from HR, the delectable Ms. Olson. It was a calendar appointment for 10:15 under the title, "Performance Review." This made me not a little nervous. After all, I'd been on the job for all of three days and a wakeup. That morning had started with an off the hook romp with a tiny blonde from bookkeeping. I thought it had gone pretty darn well, yet here I was, not fifteen minutes after showering post romp, when this performance review threw a monkey wrench into the works. There was no doubt the blonde and the review were connected, and it was very much bothering me that I did not know why.I was finishing my second bottle of pineapple juice for the morning when I heard the click and Ms. Olson walked into my office. I stood, said, "Good morning," and gestured to a chair.Her look was unusually serious as she took the offered seat. She looked at me with a level gaze and said, "Really Mr. Jeffries. I thought the first complaint would take longer than three days.""Complaint?" I repeated, trying to remain calm even as I contemplated losing the best job in the history of employment.She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. ‘Yes, but more of a, 'I asked for the dressing on the side' than a 'I demand this person be fired' kind of complaint.I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. She continued, "I'd like to be sure I have the facts straight before we discuss corrective action."Once again, it was unreal how well her phrasing matched with my nuclear submarine background. She seemed to be waiting on me, so I simply said, "Of course, that makes sense.""Good," she said. "Now, let's begin at the beginning. When Ms. Cartwright came into your office this morning at 0 9 15, did she present her secondary badge?""Yes, she did.""Presuming you examined it, what codes did you see?" she asked, her expression still stern.I thought about it for only a second, the combination was a vivid memory. It was a bit difficult to be this direct with her even after working here a few days. "Well, from top to bottom, NCL, FFK, ANO and CAN.""I'm impressed by your memory of the codes, but I am more interested in what they meant to you." I shifted in my seat and she immediately noticed. The eyebrow went up again. "Don't get bashful on me Thomas, I'm quite serious," she said.I cleared my throat, then said, "Yes, well, those mean;1.       name calling, er,2.       face fucking,3.       anal only, and4.       ‘come wherever you like that I didn't say to avoid'"She smiled, but with clarity rather than mirth. "Good, of course you are correct. Now that we are clear on terminology and meaning, I have a few questions for you as I try to determine what really happened during your encounter earlier. Please answer as succinctly as you can." She waited for me to nod my understanding before continuing. "Mr. Jeffries," she said like an attorney examining a witness, "when you had your cock in Ms. Cartwright's mouth, would you characterize the event more as fellatio or facefucking?"You know, even after a crazy few days, this woman could leave me speechless. "I, er, well," I stammered.Her expression did not change, "I'm fairly sure you comprehend the difference, Mr. Jeffries, do you not?"I nodded, "I do." Rather than prompting me, she waited for me to speak. I finally did. "I would have to say more like fellatio."She smiled again, the same hard smile of an attorney winning a point. "That was her account as well. Now, how many times did you use a derogatory term with her, like cunt or slut?"This was a really fucked up Thursday, I have to say. "Once or twice? I guess? I don't really remember.""Is it possible that your execution of 'name calling'", she used air quotes, "was limited to one use of the term 'slut'?"I sighed, "Yes."She nodded, "Now, did you, or did you not touch her anus with one or more fingers?"My mouth fell open before I could catch it. I stammered, "Um, yes, yes I did. But,""What Mr. Jeffries? Are you going to provide some kind of reason for the unwanted touching?" she scolded me."Well, I thought,""You thought the unwanted touching was actually wanted?""Well, no, I thought it was necessary to,""Stop!" she barked. I say barked because she raised her voice suddenly. I mean, it wasn't a yell or a scream, just something akin your Chief saying "shut it!""I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume your actions were intended to lubricate Ms. Cartwright prior to penetration. Would that be correct?"Again I let out a breath. It seemed odd to be on the verge of getting canned for the offense of lubing up a coworkers asshole before you plowed her. Then again, that I should find that odd was the weirdest kind of surreal. "Yes, Ms. Olson, that was my intent."She nodded. "And why do you suppose, you essentially had Ms. Olson perform fellatio rather than fucking her face, as she requested?" When I did not immediately answer she added, "And why did you simply call her a slut once when she requested name calling?"Now that kind of threw me for a loop, and my expression must have said so. I didn't have an answer right away. She used the "60 Minutes" interview technique and remained quiet, staring at me while I tried to compose an answer. After some time I said quietly, "Because I'm not entirely comfortable doing those things."Now her face broke into an honest, warm smile. "Okay Tom, now we can talk." She stood and slowly paced around the room. "Tell me, have any of the women here asked you to pinch them quite hard?""Sure," I said quickly."Ah. And have any of them wanted you to pull their hair? Pin their arms down?""Um, yes," I said."Okay. Assuming that those things are generally more uncomfortable than pressing lube into one's ass, why do you suppose you were okay not questioning their requests?" she said, and stopped to look at me. Her expression was kind of like a teacher, waiting for me to figure out the right answer.It took a minute before something registered. It did not make me feel better. I suddenly had the realization that while my 'hard no's' were off the table, everything else was expected of the PBS. "I suppose because I like to do those things."She smiled, pleasantly. She sat down again. "That is a very enlightened thing for a twenty something to figure out. I'm once again quite pleased with myself for finding and hiring you. Yes, you are entirely correct. You are a considerate, caring, and talented lover. And as you have only your experience as a guide, you will find Foxx Inc. is both simpler and more challenging. You don't need to figure out what these women want. Your job is to provide what they need. What they ask for. Mostly they will ask for it directly, and that is their responsibility. But it may be challenging if what they want is not typically your cup of tea. If you had throat fucked Jenny Cartwright until she couldn't talk for a day, that would be on her. If you had pounded her ass so she worked standing up for a week, that would be on her. Asking you to throat fuck her and instead requiring her to blow you, is on you."Again, I was deeply intrigued. She went on, "If I want to get reamed with no lube, then all I have to do is put ANO on my badge and present my ass to you without getting ready." She saw I was still staring, "Most, if not all, wouldn't do that."I gulped, "I'm not sure how to go about that level of acting."She stood and shrugged, "Not my problem. However, I am prepared to give you a bit of training.""Training?" I said. The confusion no doubt obvious on my face.She smirked, "First a couple of thoughts. Psych yourself up, give yourself a moment to get into character. It need not be instantaneous, especially if the request throws you for a loop. But yes, training." She turned to leave, but looked back at me as she put her hand on the door handle, "And for that, Ms. Cartwright will be back to reassess you at 13 hundred. Do make me proud Thomas." And with that she left.I pondered my future for a good ten minutes before I returned to one of my favorite movie quotes, "There is no fate but what we make." And that meant I had to accept one thing above all else, get off on whatever the woman wanted. After another ten minutes I was still wondering if I could do it. I sat and stared at the ceiling until just after noon, then went to the cafeteria to get lunch. As I have not mentioned it until now, the uniform I sported that day was that of a brown truck deliveryman, complete with brown socks and sneakers. The deliveryman's name was 'Hank.' If Ms. Cartwright had said anything untoward about me after our morning encounter, none of the women eating lunch seemed to be affected. Those that knew me, and those that just knew who I was, either looked at me and smirked, grinned, gave me no notice or perhaps a slight wave.Cindy, aka Velma, from IT caught my eye and gestured me to come over. She looked at my name tag as I sat down across from her. "Hey, Hank, how are you today?" I shrugged and she added, "I guess you don't have a delivery for me this afternoon?""Truth is I don't really know the delivery schedule," I said without much enthusiasm as I dug into my sandwich.Cindy gave me a long wink, "No? From what I heard you need to make a couple of deliveries to the, ah, rear entrance. If you get my meaning."I swallowed heavily, "I see. And if you were making such a delivery, would you have any advice?"Her face lit up with a full smile, "Well, as you know, I tend to take my deliveries via the main entrance. But from what I've heard, the loading dock back there is reinforced. You could really just slam into it and the delivery van and the dock would be just fine. But that's just the packages, mostly. You could deposit any, ah, loads, through the back door, or right on the front porch." When I didn't say anything she leaned forward, resting her considerable chest on the table and lowering her voice, "Or perhaps I need to be more blunt?""No, no," I said quietly, "that's not necessary. But how did,"She silenced me with a very brief gesture, "Jenny is a talker, and between us, the least likely person you would ever expect to be a sub, and then only sometimes."At this point I was sporting a half woody and my thoughts about my 13 hundred meeting had changed quite a bit. "Thanks Cindy. I'm really looking forward to another romp with Velma."She smiled broadly, "I'm sure she is as well."And with that we concluded our meals in relative silence.Back in my office I had about thirty minutes to consider how to play my 'do over', as we used to say in the Navy, before the arrival of one Jenny Cartwright. It was right about then that I remembered a small box in the top left hand drawer of my desk, labeled, 'In Case Of Emergency.' That seemed a bit strong for my current situation, but I opened the drawer and picked up the box to check it out. Opening it I spied what looked like a couple dozen diamond shaped blue pills. Well, that was one way to be sure you could get hard, but that wasn't really my problem. Truth is, knowing that Jenny wanted me to use her mouth and her ass had me nearly ready to go.And then my memory flashed back to my interview last Friday. To Ms. Olson's mention of a former girlfriend and lover, Tilly, and some of the crazy encounters we'd had. On one such occasion she had somehow acquired a couple tabs of viagra and suggested we spent the weekend 'sport fucking' as she called it. Aside from having to force my erection into submission with ice a couple times (that 4 hour erection warning was one I took seriously), we'd fucked literally for hours. Only stopping to come up for air, food and water. By the middle of the weekend we'd figured out how to only stop for restroom breaks. But there was a particular thing I'd discovered about myself that weekend, and a certain Ms. Cartwright was about to be the beneficiary of that knowledge. I made a quick call to Ms. Olson about a closely related topic, and she confirmed I was on solid ground unless Ms. Cartwright let me know otherwise. At a quarter to one I took half a tablet, sat behind my desk, and waited for my 'service' appointment.Promptly at 13 hundred the key reader chimed and the door lock 'clicked' loudly. Entering my office was Jenny Cartwright. Blonde, very attractive, modest b-cup breasts, and now sporting a skirt and three inch heels. Her expression was neutral as she regarded me, "Mr. Jeffries," she said.I gestured her to come forward, "Don't know who the fuck that is." I poked a thumb toward my name tag, "Name's Hank. And you must be the cunt tried to get me fired this morning."To my surprise and pleasure, she seemed surprised and taken aback. That, or she was a really great actress. "Lemme see your badge already," I said, and she handed it to me. While her card this morning had been labeled with a list, now it was a word cloud, and with all the code words in the same size font there was clearly no priority.Taking a deep breath I paused and considered what was there. Name calling, face fucking, choking, ass fucking, and come pretty much anywhere you like. I didn't need to check to know I was sporting an iron hard cock. I backed the chair away from my desk and stood, proudly displaying said cock as I had taken off my shorts and underwear. Again she seemed surprised. "Get on your knees and open your mouth, bitch, or I'll let Ms. Olson know what really happened this morning." When she didn't immediately move to do so, I went right up to her, put my hands firmly around her neck and squeezed just enough to show I meant it. As I pressed down she sank to her knees. I relinquished my grip on her throat and gathered up a handful of her shoulder length hair. When I poked my cock against her lips and she didn't open her mouth, I used my other hand to pinch her nose closed. She looked up at me with a bit of fear in her eyes, and the second she exhaled I jammed my cock into her open mouth. I got grazed by a couple teeth, but I wasn't deterred.Her hands pushed at my thighs as I held myself halfway into her mouth. "I'm pretty sure you've got the talented tongue of a slut, so get using it," I said as I started to thrust slowly in and out of her mouth. She responded as she had this morning, rather enthusiastically running her tongue over the head of my cock. But this time, I knew that was the wrong move. It was time to start making her earn what she wanted. When I heard her exhale I thrust my cock slowly and fully into her mouth and back into her throat. Her eyes popped and she looked up at me as I held myself there, blocking her windpipe. She batted at my thighs, and after a count of ten I pulled back and watched as she coughed, spit, and gasped for air. The instant she had a breath I started to fuck her mouth with slow, long strokes. She gagged a little, and I didn't let it stop me. I repeated this move, keeping her guessing as to when she would get to breathe and just how deep I would go. The viagra was helping me hold off, but just barely. It was after several minutes of this I noticed her hands were busy under her skirt. "So the slut gets off on a face fucking, huh?"And with that I actually tried to fuck her throat like a cunt for about a minute. By the end her face was a complete mess and the smell of sex in the air was strong. It appeared I might be on the right track after all. Still controlling the movement of her head with a handful of her hair, I pulled out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back in the middle of the fluffy rug. I threw her skirt upward, then pulled her top up over her breasts. Her hands had gone back to rubbing her cunt and she wasn't wearing any panties. I let go of her hair and put my hand on her throat, pushing enough to let her know I was still in charge. Kneeling between her thighs, I pushed one leg back then placed the head of my cock against her asshole. "Always nice to see a dirty cunt play with herself while I pound her ass."She was looking me right in the eye as I started to push forward. To my surprise, she was clenched. Well, I figured, if that's what she wants. And with that I bucked into her with all my power. I did not anticipate what happened next. Her back arched, her breath caught, her eyes flew wide open and then rolled back, and she came like a bomb. She didn't make a lot of noise, but as I fucked her delightful ass she bucked and thrashed and moaned and squeaked like some kind of crazy ride at a sex carnival. I swear you almost needed cowboy training to stay in the saddle.After twenty or so seconds she seemed to come back to earth, which is when she looked at me in surprise, "You, you're still going?" she panted.At this I decided it was time to end round one and give her a reward. I moved my hand once again to her hair and held her head to the floor. "Since my little ass-slut asked for it," I said, feeling myself getting very close to coming. She seemed to try and push at me, and that tripped the trigger. At once I withdrew from the tightness that was her ass and crawled up next to her face. She might have tried to look away, but I held her in place as I groaned aloud as my climax hit. I burst all over her face, covering her with shot after shot as my ejaculation went on. She sputtered as my come landed on her mouth, then her eyes and forehead. I shouted as I peaked, then shuddered as I squirted a bit more on her.And now it was time for the surprise. Letting go of her hair I grabbed both ankles and flipped her onto her belly. Straddling her ass I once again lined up my cock with her ass. That weekend with Tilly had revealed that while on viagra I could enjoy a refractory period without actually losing my erection, provided I kept the stimulation to a minimum. So I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to play out when I unceremoniously sank my cock back into her ass. I was greeted with a guttural 'Ugh' as I pushed into her ass. I moved very little, and while she seemed to be trying to do so, my weight was positioned to all but prevent that.I held myself inside her, my hips hard up against her ass. She turned her come covered face to look at me, "Still, hard?""Nice cunt like you has such a great ass, it's really motivating." I gave her a stroke now and then, careful to never let my head past her tight sphincter. I could tell by her movements she was getting restless. She'd already come once, I'd come on her face, and yet here I was firmly ensconced in her ass...and hard as anything ever was. She bucked her hips a couple of times, groaned, then clenched her ass around me. Still, she said nothing.

Teaching is one of the noblest professions, and the well-being of teachers is a critical component of student learning and overall community advancement. During this special podcast episode recorded at SXSW EDU 2024, hosts Dr. Stacey Ludwig Johnson and Abby Cox are joined by National University President & CEO Dr. Mark Milliron, and Rady Children’s Hospital Senior Director Domonique Hensler, to continue the conversation on the importance of teacher well-being. During this episode, the expert panel examines the key positive strategies to implement to sustain educator well-being in the context of teacher preparation programs and K-12 schools, and concrete actions that should occur to keep educators well, despite elements that can exist beyond their control. About Dr. Mark Milliron Dr. Mark Milliron is an award-winning leader, author, speaker, and consultant, who works with universities, community colleges, K-12 schools, foundations, corporations, associations, and government agencies across the country and around the world. He serves as President & CEO of National University (NU), one of the largest private, nonprofit universities in the United States. NU is designated as a Hispanic Serving Institution (HSI) and has a 50-year history of innovating around the needs of military, working, and other nontraditional students. About Domonique Hensler Domonique Hensler is the Senior Director for Care Redesign Planning and Mental Health Integration for Rady Children’s Hospital – San Diego and Rady Children’s Health Network. Her experience includes positions as a Fellow and Analyst at Sutter Health; a Network Manager for TRICARE Southwest at Health Net, formerly Foundation Health; and Executive Director of the Community and Family Network. Since joining Rady Children’s in 1998, Domonique has served in various leadership, strategic implementation, and project management roles in healthcare administration. Related links: WGU: https://www.wgu.edu/about/governance/education/educator-well-being-from-principles-to-practice-podcast.html YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlwjT_YKfmk

Three things the Carolina Panthers need to do for the upcoming 2024-25 season: Trade Brian Burns Use whatever picks you get for Burns and trade those/double what you have Rebuild offensive line

KSL News Brief 6:00pm 12-08-2023

KSL News Brief 6:00pm – Nov. 17, 2023

KSL News Brief 6:30pm – Nov. 17, 2023

In life we all need to know and understand that we are going to learn some lessons that could change us or keep us stuck in places we want to be and in places we have no business being in. Life is a continuous learning experience. Throughout our lives we keep rising and falling, picking up important lessons along the way. Some of these lessons come from experience, yet there are others that we learn watching others or reading in books for example. No matter how much we learn from the books there is a significant difference between practical and theoretical experience. Furthermore, there are many life lessons that we simply cannot learn until we face certain situations in our life. Most people would say that there are some lessons that come too late, catching us off-guard and unprepared. For the next few weeks we will be discussing life lessons that we need to learn if we haven't already. Grab your pens and papers or your favorite electronic devices so you can jot down some needed notes. Here are 6 Life lesson we need to learn if we haven't learned them already 1- Money will never solve all your real problems 2- You can't Please Everyone 3- You don't always Get What You want 4- It's not all about you 5- There's No shame in not Knowing 6- Don't Take anything for Granted Make Sure we are following one another on Social media. https://www.instagram.com/jsselfcare/ Jsselfcare.org https://www.facebook.com/groups/488120361814671/ https://linktr.ee/Jsselfcare Disclaimer: This podcast is for educational purposes only. The host claims no responsibility to any person or entity for any liability, loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly as a result of use of the application or interpretation of the information presented in this podcast.

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John's Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today's edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith.  Someone in our church's confirmation class this year asked me about my five favorite books, books that are easy to read and which impacted me as a Christian. It was a super fun exercise and the list I came up with dated me just a bit, with many of them being published over a decade ago, when I was beginning to move from the evangelical fundamentalism of my youth into a different understanding of faith. I made the list by walking my library in my study at the church, and so the list wound up in Library of Congress catalog number order. (Yes, I am enough of a nerd to catalog my books using the Library of Congress system. Be nice.) Here are the books I wrote down: · The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out by Brennan Manning  · Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality by Donald Miller  · Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony by Stanley Hauerwas & William H. Willimon · The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society by Fr. Henri J. M. Nouwen · The Gospel and Catholic Church by Archbishop of Canterbury Michael Ramsey It's the first book in that list, though, I want to talk about today, because I think the message of that book remains so important for people to hear, both Christians and those who may find themselves outside the Christian faith. All that to say, this week I'd like to break the myth that Christians are people who have it all together.  I regularly meet people who stay away from church because they have a sense they're simply not good enough, that they should get themselves together before they decide to show up for church. I always try to tell them that getting your self together is what going to church is supposed to help you do, that you go precisely because you are not good enough… but people always remain hesitant. Now, the other side of this reality is when people walk away from Christian community because of the sins or failures of people in that community. This can particularly happen when you are disappointed in your pastor. A wise priest once told me that when new people would join his parish, he would say that he looked forward to the first time he disappointed them… because it was after that they could start to form a real and true relationship.  The truth is, we are all of us, priest and parishioner, pastor and congregation, devoted member and curious seeker, we are all of us a work in progress. And Brennan Manning's book was written specifically for those who know this is the case. And so, he says, early on in the book, that he is writing “for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.” Brennan writes in The Ragamuffin Gospel about how one of the significant differences between the Christian understanding of God and other understandings of God in the world is that the Christian God is the only God that humans have ever encountered who loves sinners. He insists that the people who most filled with God's light are those who have gazed deeply into the darkness of their own imperfect existence.  One of his most insightful lines in the book is this: “Many of us pretend to believe we are sinners. Consequently, all we can do is pretend to believe we have been forgiven. As a result, our whole spiritual life is pseudo repentance and pseudo bliss.” But what if, Brenna suggests, what is we stop pretending to believe we are sinners and begin honestly to acknowledge our sin? Maybe instead of being overwhelmed by guilt and shame we might be set free to experience the deep and abiding love God has for us… and how God does forgive us.  Brennan describes this Gospel of mercy and love for sinners this way, ““This is the God of the gospel of grace. A God who, out of love for us, sent the only Son He ever had wrapped in our skin. He learned how to walk, stumbled and fell, cried for His milk, sweated blood in the night, was lashed with a whip and showered with spit, was fixed to a cross, and died whispering forgiveness on us all.”  And Brennan insists, much to the chagrin of more exclusivist approaches to Christianity, that something is radically wrong when the local church rejects someone who has been accepted by Jesus—a statement that should give us all pause. So, know you are loved, you are fiercely loved, child of God. And if you've never heard that message before, I hope you'll go find a church that will not only be a place for you hear it, but a place you can actually begin to believe it.  Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

Season 2; Episode 10: Lessons on Leadership from the Great Depression with Edward Shrigley For this last episode of Season Two, I have a surprise guest I am especially honored to introduce you to: my grandfather, Edward Shrigley. I wish I could interview my grandfather for this episode. But he died at 96 years old when I was just 17. So instead, I'm excited to tell you a few personal stories about my grandfather's leadership during the Great Depression. My dad, Jim Shrigley and I did some research together where we pieced together some of these stories.  Key Takeaways from this Episode Edward Shrigley's five leadership principles: 1. Integrity and trustworthiness are foundational He convinced people to keep their money in the bank because he cultivated trust and demonstrated integrity – before, during and even after the Great Depression. The quality of his relationships was critical to his success. 2. Shared sacrifice for the common good can lead to prosperity for all People bought into his vision that, if everyone sacrificed for the common good, each of their individual decisions would eventually lead to prosperity for all. And while asking others to sacrifice, he was also willing to sacrifice by voluntarily giving up his salary for ten years. 3. Focus on achieving short-term results without abandoning long-term goals He made the connection between short and long-term results – keeping the bank solvent now, allowed the bank to pay its depositors in the long run. 4. Continuously and constantly communicate with your stakeholders My grandfather relentlessly and tirelessly communicated with his stakeholders for over ten years of uncertainty and hardship. 5. Hold fast to the belief that hope, and persistence will contribute to success His belief in the future of the bank enabled him to be persistent and to never give up hope. It was the fuel that drove him day to day, year to year. To learn more about my work in executive coaching, leadership development and team effectiveness check out my website, connect with me on LinkedIn or email me at winnie@winnifred.org.   Reach out and tell me what was helpful about today's episode or any suggestions you have for my show. Please leave a review and tell someone else about this show; look below for some instructions on how to leave a review on Apple Podcasts. I look forward to sharing another transformative conversation with you next week! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ How to leave a rating or review in Apple Podcasts (on an iOS device) 1. Open the Podcasts app. 2. Choose “Search” from the bottom row of icons and enter the name of the show (i.e., “Transformative Leadership Conversations”) into the search field 3. Select the show under Shows (not under Episodes) 4. Scroll down past the first few episodes until you see Ratings & Reviews 5. Click “Write a Review” underneath the displayed reviews from other listeners. You'll then have the option to rate us on a 5-star scale, and write a review if you choose (you can rate without writing, if you'd prefer)

Season 2; Episode 9: Get the Ball Down the Field with Gina L. Osborn Gina L. Osborn is an Army Veteran, a retired Cyber FBI Assistant Special Agent in Charge and is now a Keynote Speaker, Leadership Consultant and the host of the podcast Lead Like a Lady featuring remarkable women who have risen to the top in male dominated industries.  Key Takeaways from this Episode: Leading as a Woman · Sometimes men felt uncomfortable around me as the only woman, but you just ignore it and press on and do your job. · There are a lot of reasons why people can treat you in a particular way, but if you think every time, it's because of me, I'm bad, I'm not good enough then you're never going to be successful, because you're always going to have a reason not to be. · The amount of energy that goes into taking things personally can be exhausting. Instead, focus on getting the ball down the field, you don't have time for all the other nonsense. · If someone says something that offends you, ask them, what did you mean by that? It's as simple as that. Either they're going to explain it or they will say I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way. Then you can go about your business and get the ball down the field instead wasting your energy. · Remember that everybody doesn't have to like you and you don't like everybody. It's called self-preservation.  · Like my mom used to tell me, it's none of your business what other people think about you. That takes a lot of pressure off, especially for women.  Leading Authentically · Modified Albert Einstein: “She who attempts the absurd can achieve the impossible”; if you're not attempting the absurd, you are missing out because the impossible is pretty fantastic. · Try things and don't let obstacles stand in your way. If it's never been done before, then you can be the first one to do it. · What percentage of your day is getting the ball down the field? What percentage of my day is criticizing yourself or wishing you had more confidence, or tolerating things that you shouldn't?  · Remember as a leader people are watching you; how you handle things, how you address people, how you nip things in the bud, how much effort and time you're putting into things. · You'll shine as an authentic leader when you are honing into your natural talent and skills sets. · You learn by making mistakes, that's how they become a better leader. · Don't take things so seriously; have more fun. You don't have to be perfect.  · Imperfections are what make you extraordinary. Take risks so you can grow from your mistakes. Leading a Team · My leadership challenge as an executive for the FBI was keeping my agents alive and making sure they go home to their families every night.  · You must know when to take risks and when you shouldn't. · Develop a muscle memory to make critical decisions quickly. Don't get stuck being afraid to fail or it's going to be the wrong decision.  · Micromanaging comes from leaders being afraid to make mistakes or fear of failure. But there's a lot of smart people out there that can come up with really good ideas if we let them do it. · If you have a good team surrounding you, you are going to be successful no matter what. · Develop the leaders that come behind you.  · Don't be intimidated by people who are smarter than you. You don't have to be smarter than your team when you're the leader. You don't have to be the smartest person in the room. · It's important to make sure your people have ownership and investment in the mission of your company. Resources · Open Architecture: Guy Geier at TEDxTimesSquare · Eero Saarinen, a Finnish-American architect and industrial designer To learn more about my work in executive coaching, leadership development and team effectiveness check out my website, connect with me on LinkedIn or email me at winnie@winnifred.org.   Reach out and tell me what was helpful about today's episode or any suggestions you have for my show. Please leave a review and tell someone else about this show; look below for some instructions on how to leave a review on Apple Podcasts. I look forward to sharing another transformative conversation with you next week! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ How to leave a rating or review in Apple Podcasts (on an iOS device) 1. Open the Podcasts app. 2. Choose “Search” from the bottom row of icons and enter the name of the show (i.e., “Transformative Leadership Conversations”) into the search field 3. Select the show under Shows (not under Episodes) 4. Scroll down past the first few episodes until you see Ratings & Reviews 5. Click “Write a Review” underneath the displayed reviews from other listeners. You'll then have the option to rate us on a 5-star scale, and write a review if you choose (you can rate without writing, if you'd prefer)

Season 2; Episode 8: Spices, Entrepreneurship and Social Impact with Ethan Frisch & Ori Zohar  Ethan Frisch and Ori Zohar are co-founders and co-owners of Burlap & Barrel. Burlap & Barrel sources unique, beautiful spices for professional chefs and home cooks. As a Public Benefit Corporation, they partner directly with smallholder farmers to source spices that have never been available in the US before and help improve the livelihoods of our partner farmers.  As a Public Benefit Corporation Burlap & Barrel is building new international food supply chains that are equitable, transparent, and traceable. Key Takeaways from this Episode: Building a Sustainable Business · We went from: what if we have to close the business, to we're about to run out of spices.  · We want to build a big business, a business that has impact, that has influence. · Entrepreneurship is always a process of iterating and improving. Nothing is static. · Now that we've grown, most of the things that happen in the business on a day-to-day basis are not my area of expertise. · You can be an entrepreneur even if your area of expertise is in business operations; continue to find the right subject matter expert that you can partner with partner. · We are lucky we get to live a life that we design. We get to decide what we do every morning. We get to make decisions for ourselves that most people in the world never get to make, and really don't have much hope of getting to make. The fact that we get to do this is already such a privilege, such a treat that, if the business had to close tomorrow, we are fine. We are healthy. We are in positions to make decisions about our lives, and the business doesn't define that. The business is an outcome of that, but not definitive Avoiding the Silicon Valley Model · Create a sustainable, long-term business that isn't optimizing for a crazy exit in five years; build a healthy, happy business. · The crazy, venture-backed, gigantic companies and founder as hero creating a new world is too stressful. Use other inspiring, quirky, funny companies for inspiration that have grown organically, have a deep and interesting culture of their own. · We disagreed with the advice we got from a startup accelerator program; and it turns out that what we did instead saved us from the pandemic. · Not relying on venture money forced us to be lean, thoughtful and to create more clever solutions because we couldn't just hire a senior person to come in to fix things. Building a Healthy Partnership · Starting this business was a new phase of a longstanding friendship. Having had one experience together of entrepreneurship meant that we understood how our skillsets and interests were going to complement each other. · Shared values can help partners navigate challenging decisions. · We're constantly checking in to see how we need to adjust our roles as the business grows. · When we disagree, it means we're working on something important. We have arrived at different conclusions with essentially the same information, and why? Tension is not, necessarily a negative thing, and in fact, it's been an overall a source of positive energy and it pushes us in the right directions. Our Toolkit: · Put in the time and energy and explicit focus to create a conflict resolution process including a toolkit and common language. · We ask ourselves how strongly we feel about something – on a scale of 1-10. The person who feels more strongly about something gets to make the decision. · We have a weekly meeting with no agenda. During that meeting we bring pebbles, not boulders. We want to talk about problems as early as possible. If it feels off or weird, we don't just sit and stew on it. These meetings create a safe space for us to bring whatever we're feeling. We can check in and disagree and talk through the things that are sitting the heaviest on our minds. · We practice disagreements about the small things, so that when a big thing comes along, we're ready.  Companies & Resources: · Examples of social impact business: o Rancho Gordo: sells incredible dried heirloom beans o King Arthur Flour · “Let My People Go Surfing” by the founder of Patagonia, Yvon Chouinard · Pete Flint at NFX Burlap & Barrel Articles · New York Times · Food & Wine · Bloomberg · Fast Company · Wall Street Journal To learn more about my work in executive coaching, leadership development and team effectiveness check out my website, connect with me on LinkedIn or email me at winnie@winnifred.org.   Reach out and tell me what was helpful about today's episode or any suggestions you have for my show. Please leave a review and tell someone else about this show; look below for some instructions on how to leave a review on Apple Podcasts. I look forward to sharing another transformative conversation with you next week! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ How to leave a rating or review in Apple Podcasts (on an iOS device) 1. Open the Podcasts app. 2. Choose “Search” from the bottom row of icons and enter the name of the show (i.e., “Transformative Leadership Conversations”) into the search field 3. Select the show under Shows (not under Episodes) 4. Scroll down past the first few episodes until you see Ratings & Reviews 5. Click “Write a Review” underneath the displayed reviews from other listeners. You'll then have the option to rate us on a 5-star scale, and write a review if you choose (you can rate without writing, if you'd prefer)

In this episode, we wrap up the story of the Haitian Revolution. Toussaint Louverture consolidated power in the colony and drafted a new Constitution, in response to which Napoleon sent a massive French to bring Saint-Domingue back under French control. Much like the British before them, the French troops were decimated by yellow fever and so were not strong enough to put down the revolt that broke out when it was discovered that Napoleon planned to reimpose slavery in the colony. We also discuss yellow fever virus, including the disease it causes, how it came to the Americas, and the mosquito that vectors it.Engraving of Toussaint Louverture by J. Barry, published by James Cundee, after M. Rainsford line engraving, published circa 1800-1825. Via  the National Portrait Gallery (NPG D15719), used under a CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 license. Portrait of General Gabriel-Marie-Théodore-Joseph, comte d'Hédouville by Jean-Baptiste Paulin Guérin (1835). Via wikimedia, in the public domain. Sketch of General Hédouville by an unknown artist. Via wikimedia, in the public domainSketch of André Rigaud by an unknown artist. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.The Constitution of Year VIII, which stated that the colonies would be ruled by "special laws". Via wikimedia, in the public domain.The Constitution of Saint-Domingue (1801), which installed Toussaint Louverture as governor for life. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.Engraving of General Charles Victoire Emmanuel Leclerc by Jean-Baptiste Réville in "France militaire: histoire des armées françaises de terre et de mer de 1792 à 1837" (1838) by A. Hugo. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.Painting of General Leclerc by François Kinson (1804). Via wikimedia, in the public domain.Polish legionaries in Saint Domingue, by January Suchodolski (1854). Via wikimedia, in the public domain.Public mural of Jean Jaques Dessalines in Port-au-Prince. Via wikimedia, in the public domain. Engraving of Jean Jaques Dessalines in "Dictionnaire géographique et administratif universel d'Haïti" (1892) by S. Rouzier. Original held and digitized by the British Library. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.  Portrait of Henry I, King of Haiti (Henri Chrisophe), probably by Johann Gottfried Eiffe (1817). Via wikimedia, in the public domain.  Engraving of Henri Christophe in "Dictionnaire géographique et administratif universel d'Haïti" (1892) by S. Rouzier. Original held and digitized by the British Library. Via wikimedia, in the public domain. Yellow fever mosquito (Aedes aegypti), the vector of yellow fever virus. Photograph by Muhammad Mahdi Karim, via wikimedia, used under a GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2.Yellow fever mosquito feeding on a human. Photograph by James Gathany, CDC. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.Transmission cycles of yellow fever. Graphic via the CDC, in the public domain. Illustration of a man sick with yellow fever, from the broadside "'Death of Aurelio Caballero due to yellow fever in Veracruz" (1892) by José Guadalupe Posada. Via wikimedia, in the public domain.  The Louisiana Territory, which Napoleon sold to the United States after he lost the colony of Saint-Domingue and abandoned his plans of a Caribbean-based empire. Graphic by William Morris via Wikimedia, used under a CC BY-SA 4.0 license.   Questions? Comments? Follow the show on Twitter @Arthro_PodshowFollow the hosts on Twitter @bugmanjon, @JodyBugsmeUNL, and @MSkvarla36Get the show through Apple Podcasts!Subscribe to our feed on Feedburner!  We're also on Stitcher!This episode is freely available on archive.org and is licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/Beginning/ending theme: "There It Is" by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0

Season 2; Episode 7: The Unexpected Impact of Design with Guy Geier Guy Geier is the Managing Partner of FXCollaborative, and is responsible for the strategic direction of the firm and its operations. As an architect and senior leader for over 40 years, he is particularly passionate about how design impacts people and how they work; businesses and how they organize themselves to do great work; and at the same time how to minimize carbon imprint on the environment. His primary focus is having a strategic impact within a larger mission. Key Takeaways from this Episode: ·       Every decision needs to be made in its own context.  · Think of everything you do as having an impact. Everything you do think about how you're going to leave the world in a better place than you found it. · Understand the interrelationship of everything you do and how it impacts each other. · It doesn't matter what it looks like, what matters is that you're continually exploring. · Create a culture of feedback by cultivating a real and vibrant dialogue with your team, with your clients. · Using drawing as a problem-solving technique. · Be flexible and open to new ideas, don't restrict your thinking. · You don't have to be like everybody else; you can be different and still find your way in the world and do great work.    Resources · Open Architecture: Guy Geier at TEDxTimesSquare · Eero Saarinen, a Finnish-American architect and industrial designer To learn more about my work in executive coaching, leadership development and team effectiveness check out my website, connect with me on LinkedIn or email me at winnie@winnifred.org.   Reach out and tell me what was helpful about today's episode or any suggestions you have for my show. Please leave a review and tell someone else about this show; look below for some instructions on how to leave a review on Apple Podcasts. I look forward to sharing another transformative conversation with you next week! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ How to leave a rating or review in Apple Podcasts (on an iOS device) 1. Open the Podcasts app. 2. Choose “Search” from the bottom row of icons and enter the name of the show (i.e., “Transformative Leadership Conversations”) into the search field 3. Select the show under Shows (not under Episodes) 4. Scroll down past the first few episodes until you see Ratings & Reviews 5. Click “Write a Review” underneath the displayed reviews from other listeners. You'll then have the option to rate us on a 5-star scale, and write a review if you choose (you can rate without writing, if you'd prefer)

Sección de "A Vivir Navarra" con el experto y programador musical Fermín Göo. Lista de Spotify del programa  https://open.spotify

Sección de "A Vivir Navarra" con el experto y programador musical Fermín Göo. Lista de Spotify del programa  https://open.spotify

Season 2; Episode 6: Cash in Your Lottery Ticket with Jeff Harry Jeff Harry is the Founder of Rediscover Your Play and his mission is to build psychologically safe workplaces through positive psychology and play. He was selected by Engagedly as one of the Top 100 HR Influencers of 2020 and one of the Top HR Influencers to Watch by BambooHR for his organizational development work around addressing toxicity in the workplace. His play work has been featured in the NY Times, The SF Chronicle, and CNN. His mission is to fully embrace our own playful nerdy genius — whatever that is — and by simply unleashing our inner child, we can find our purpose and, in turn, help to create a better world. Key Takeaways from this Episode: · We're all sitting on a winning lottery ticket. To change the world all you need to do is do the thing that makes you come most alive. Then other people can join you. · Play is any joyful act where you forget about time; where there is no result; there is no purpose; you don't have anxiety about the future; you don't have regrets about the past; you are fully in the moment; you are fully in flow. The opposite of play is perfection, and perfection is rooted in shame and ego.  · You can't play while you're in an anxiety ridden state. You can't play when you're angry, you can play when you're tired. · Adults are so fixated on results expectations are such the thief of joy. Results are not what's going to bring us happiness. Create more fun, joy, play moments with my family, and have that as a priority. · How many people do you hang out with that you consider playful? How many people can you be your real self with? And if not, how do we change that?  · Your future is where the fun is.  · Ask yourself, what did you love to do as a kid?  · You either go into a conversation to be right or you go into a conversation to understand. · Play addresses and builds psychologically safe workspaces using positive psychology in play. The best organizations have psychological safety. · FEAR: False Evidence Appearing Real.  · Learn how to deal with toxic people! · Understand your inner critic! · How do I get paid to do exactly what I would do even if no one was paying me?  · If things are going well OR things are going badly; ask yourself this: How can it get any better than this?  Resources · Steven Berlin Johnson, an American popular science author and media theorist. · Gay Hendricks is a psychologist, writer, and teacher in the field of personal growth, relationships, and body intelligence. · Marcus Buckingham is an English author, motivational speaker and business consultant. · Eric Bailey is the author of The Cure for Stupidity. · Gwen Gordon is a transformation coach, consultant, creative producer. · Stephen Warley is a business coach. · Lauren Yee is the Founder & COO at this.us.now. · Guy Starts Dance Party To learn more about my work in executive coaching, leadership development and team effectiveness check out my website, connect with me on LinkedIn or email me at winnie@winnifred.org.   Reach out and tell me what was helpful about today's episode or any suggestions you have for my show. Please leave a review and tell someone else about this show; look below for some instructions on how to leave a review on Apple Podcasts. I look forward to sharing another transformative conversation with you next week! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ How to leave a rating or review in Apple Podcasts (on an iOS device) 1. Open the Podcasts app. 2. Choose “Search” from the bottom row of icons and enter the name of the show (i.e., “Transformative Leadership Conversations”) into the search field 3. Select the show under Shows (not under Episodes) 4. Scroll down past the first few episodes until you see Ratings & Reviews 5. Click “Write a Review” underneath the displayed reviews from other listeners. You'll then have the option to rate us on a 5-star scale, and write a review if you choose (you can rate without writing, if you'd prefer)