Podcasts about Nuh

HI, KIDS! Do you like violence? Do you wanna see a family burned inside of their ride like rye chips? Watch a bunch of mystery murders in a bunch of fly clips? Well, look no further, I can guarantee you're gonna like this...These kids parents is dead weight...I'm trying to get my head straight...just watched a bunch Sinister shit in a bunch of snuff tapes...And Professor Jonas said, "Ellis, you are way dead." ("Nuh-uh"). Then why is your place red? Man, your family's wasted."Talk about shady...that tree casted more shadows than it ever had business to...and that was BEFORE the Oswalt family moved in...and before we're done, they'll wish they never had...that's right, we're talking about SINISTER (2012)!Goodnight, Daddy :-)Send us Fan MailSupport the showPodcast art by Jayson Cessna: https://jaysoncessna.crevado.comMusic by Dusty Lane, created in LMMS.Movie clips provided by https://movie-sounds.org/horror-movie-samples/

Shahadat of Imam Ali Ar Ridha (AS)29th Safar 1448 AHThursday August 13, 2026- The lecture commemorates the shahadat of the 8th Imam, Ali ar-Riza (AS), poisoned by Ma'mun in Khurasan (present-day Mashhad, "the place of martyrdom").- Ma'mun had summoned the Imam to Marv, which unexpectedly opened opportunities for scholars and the public to meet the Imam and engage him in theological discussions.- In one such discussion, the ulama asked whether Allah had explained the concept of "selection" (istifa') of the Ahlul Bayt in the Qur'an.- Imam ar-Riza (AS) answered that Allah explained this selection in the exoteric (outward) verses, apart from the esoteric ones, in twelve places.- The lecture focuses on two of those twelve verses, since the exoteric meaning is accessible to the general public.- The Verse of Salawat (33:56): after its revelation, companions asked how to send salawat, and the Prophet taught them to say "Allahumma salli 'ala Muhammadin wa Ali Muhammad," a practice on which even Ma'mun confirmed there is no dispute.- The Imam then pointed to Surah Yaseen (36:1-4), where the ulama agreed "Yaseen" refers to the Prophet Muhammad.- Building on this, the Imam noted Allah sends salam only upon prophets — Nuh, Ibrahim, Musa and Harun — but never upon their families ("Al").- Uniquely, Allah says "Salam upon Al-e Yaseen" (37:130), which the Imam identifies as Al-e Muhammad — a distinction given to no other prophet's family.- A clarification: the common recitation reads "Ilyasin" (linked to Prophet Ilyas), but at-Tabari records that the reciters of Medina read it as "Al-e Yaseen," a reading also narrated from Ibn Abbas in Sunni sources.- The Verse of Muwaddah (42:23): while other prophets like Nuh and Hud asked for no reward at all, Allah instructs the Prophet Muhammad to ask only for love of his near relatives.- Imam ar-Riza (AS) explains Allah made this love obligatory because He knew the Ahlul Bayt would never deviate from faith, and because love for the Prophet requires love for his family.- Upon revelation, the Prophet three times announced Allah had imposed a duty; when he revealed it was love for his family, some accepted while others privately doubted, prompting verses 42:24-25 exposing and then pardoning their doubt.- Umm Kulthum's lament after Karbala shows the ummah largely failed this duty of love: even a direct command to harm the family could not have exceeded what was done to them.- The Imam's final days: warned by a sign to his servant Yasir, he suffered in agony without family, and Imam Muhammad Taqi (AS) came miraculously from Medina to perform his final prayer.Donate towards our programs today: https://jaffari.org/donate/Jaffari Community Centre (JCC Live)

The Apalachee school shooter will spend the rest of his days in prison, as a judge sentences Colt Gray to life in prison with no parole; Georgia's largest health outfit lays off hundreds; and state officials say the City of Atlanta is responsible for a massive fish kill last month, but city officials say, "Nuh-uh."See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alaihissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alahissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab pengingkaran umat nabi Nuh 'alahissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab pengingkaran umat nabi Nuh 'alahissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alahissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

Nuh-nuh-nuh-nuhhh-nu-nuh. Nuh-nuh-nuh-nuhhh-nu-nuh. Nuh-nuh. Send us an email: lostlightpod@gmail.com Visit us on the web: https://www.lostlight.stream Listen to all our TAPEDECK podmates at: https://solo.to/tapedeck

This comprehensive lecture explores the Qur'anic blueprint for Active Fathering through the powerful stories ofprophetic fathers and their sons: Luqman the wise, Ibrahim the builder, Ismail the obedient, Ya'qub the patient, Yusuf the forgiving, Dawud the teacher, and Sulaiman the successor. Drawing from psychology, spirituality, and the timeless wisdom of the Qur'an, this lecture offers foundationalprinciples and ten-point commitments for fathers who want to raise sons of faith, character, and legacy. KEY TOPICS COVERED:• Luqman's advice to his son • Ibrahim and Ismail building the Ka'bah as a metaphor for father-son partnership• The test of sacrifice — obedience and trust• Ibrahim's prayer for righteous descendants• Nuh's son who chose the mountain — the tragedy of rejection• Ya'qub's grief and Yusuf's forgiveness — a father's love that survives betrayal• Dawud and Sulaiman — partnership in wisdom and worship• Psychological research on fatherhood — what Islam already knew• The transmission of tawhid across generations• Ten practical commitments for active fathers• Age-specific advice for fathers of young, growing, adolescent, and adult sons KEY TAKEAWAYS:1. The father is the first teacher — his words shape his son's worldview2. A father's mission is completed through his son's participation3. The son's obedience validates the father's faith — but the son must choose freely4. A father's prayer for his descendants is answered by Allah5. A father can lead, but a son can choose to refuse — Nuh's tragedy6. A father's love can survive betrayal and decades of separation — Ya'qub and Yusuf7. A father can celebrate his son surpassing him — Dawud and Sulaiman8. Active fathering shapes a son's identity, emotional regulation, security, and masculinity9. Faith is caught, not just taught — the father's life is the curriculum10. Ten practical commitments can transform any father-son relationship SUBSCRIBE for more Islamic reflections on family, parenting, and building a legacy of faith.Like & Share this lecture to inspire others in understanding the power of names. Book a counselling/Therapy session here:https://calendly.com/abdulfattahadeyemi/counseling-therapy Download the Adeyemi App from Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.kwickapp.panel.android665e0fb9ed2fa Visit: www.adeyemi.ng⁠ Join Abdulfattah Adeyemi's Community:https://t.me/+Gz7wGuTsRLRmNzU0⁠ FOLLOW ME ON: Podcast: https://open.spotify.com/show/1Ve9GDn0C01bVIffD9D8sS?si=-4hvd8wRQRGuX3uWsuiwQA Instagram: @dr.abdulfattahadeyemiFacebook: @dr.abdulfattahadeyemiTikTok: @dr.abdulfattahadeyemiYouTube:www.youtube.com/@dr.abdulfattahadeyemi #ActiveFathering #FatherhoodInIslam#QuranicParenting #Luqman #IbrahimAndIsmail #YaqubAndYusuf #DawudAndSulaiman#IslamicParenting #FatherAndSon #Tawhid #LegacyBuilding #MuslimFamily#ParentingInIslam #RaisingRighteousChildren #Fatherhood #IslamicReminder#QuranReflection #PropheticParenting #SunnahFather #FatherAndSonBond#GenerationalFaith #FathersAndSons #IslamicLegacy #FatherhoodMatters#MuslimFather #QuranicFatherhood #FathersPrayer #JannahReunion active fathering, fatherhood in islam, quranic parenting, luqman advice to son, ibrahim and ismail, ibrahimsacrifice ismail, yaqub and yusuf, dawud and sulaiman, nuh and his son, father and son in quran, islamic fatherhood, raising righteous children, tawhid transmission, legacy of faith, prophetic parenting, sunnah of fatherhood,father as first teacher, father as builder of legacy, test of obedience, prayer of ibrahim, tragedy of nuh, yaqub grief, yusuf forgiveness, dawud teaching sulaiman, psychological importance of father

Fredrik berättar hur deras Meta-konto blev hackat via en partnerkoppling, hur scammers hann skapa falska annonser, varför det såg legitimt ut från början och hur de upptäckte det innan skadan blev mycket större.I avsnittet pratar Fredrik och Fedja också om den fråga många e-handlare missar: vad är den verkliga flaskhalsen just nu? Fedja delar upp det i tre huvudområden: acquisition, conversion och retention. Därefter går samtalet djupare in på vad som kan ligga bakom flaskhalsen, från proof och forskning till produktion, logistik och säkerhet.00:00 Intro00:33 Den största utmaningen just nu00:59 Varför fel optimering kan slösa tid och pengar02:20 De tre flaskhalsarna: acquisition, conversion och retention03:18 Designskydd i Kina, Europa och USA05:58 När forskning blir en flaskhals för försäljning09:16 Hur undersökningar kan skapa gratis PR11:37 Så samlar du in kunddata som e-handlare15:02 Flaskhalsar i växande e-handelsbolag17:53 När produktion och logistik bromsar försäljningen24:16 AI-agenter, automatisering och oväntade kostnader28:07 Räntor, sommarhandel och konsumtionsklimatet36:09 Hur Fredriks Meta-konto blev hackat40:39 Så minskar du risken att ditt annonskonto kapas47:23 Vad e-handlare bör göra nuHär hittar du Fedja & Fredrik:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://se.linkedin.com/in/porobic⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://se.linkedin.com/in/ankarskold/Böcker som nämns i avsnittet:The Algorithm by Jon McNeillGoldratt's Rules of Flow by Goldratt-Ashlag EfratThe Goal by Eliyahu M. Goldratt

Bab kisah nabi Nuh 'alahissalam dari Buku Tafsir Ibnu Katsir

"Bizi, dosdoğru olan yoluna ilet." (Fatiha s. 6) sözünden maksad, Allâh (c.c.) rızası için büyük meşakkatleri sırtlanan öncülerin yoludur. Anlatıldığına göre Hz. Nûh (a.s.) her gün bayılıncaya kadar dövülürdü. O buna rağmen, yine her vurulduğunda, "Allâh'ım kavmime hidayet et, çünkü onlar ne yaptıklarını bilmiyorlar" derdi. Bizim Peygamberimiz (s.a.v.) bu cümleyi sadece bir kere söylemiştir. Halbuki Hz. Nuh (a.s.) bir günde aynı cümleyi defalarca söylemiştir. Bu nedenle, Hz. Nûh (a.s.)'ın Peygamberimiz (s.a.v.)'den üstün olduğunu söylemek gerekir?" denilirse, buna bizim cevabımız şu olur: Cenâb-ı Hakk'ın "Bizi, dosdoğru olan yoluna ilet" sözünden maksadı, kendisinden bu üstün ahlâkın istenmesi olup, Hz. Peygamber (s.a.v.)'de Fatiha'yı her gün şu kadar defa okuduğuna göre, Hz. Peygamber (s.a.v.)'in bu kelimeyi söylemesi, Nûh (a.s.)'ın söylemesinden daha çok olur. Mümin Allâh (c.c.)'u tek bir delille tanıyınca, bütün varlıklarda O (c.c.)'un varlığına, ilmine, kudretine, cömertliğine, rahmetine ve hikmetine delâlet eden nice deliller olduğunu anlar. Buna göre kulun, "Bizi, dosdoğru olan yoluna ilet" sözünün manası: "Ey Râbbimiz! Her şeyde, Senin zâtına, sıfatlarına, kudretine ve ilmine delâlet eden nice deliller bulduk" olur. Bu takdire göre, söz konusu olan sual kendiliğinden bertaraf edilmiş olur. Cenâb-ı Hakk "Muhakkak ki sen, doğru bir yola hidayet ediyorsun, göklerde ve yerde bulunan her şeyin kendisine ait olduğu Allâh'ın yoluna" (Şûra s. 5253) "Bu, benim dosdoğru olan yolumdur, öyleyse ona uyunuz!" (En'âm s. 153) buyurmuştur. "Sırât-ı müstakim" insanın, Allâh (c.c.)'dan başka her şeyden yüz çevirmiş: bütün kalbi, fikri ve zikriyle Allâh (c.c.)'a yönelmiş olmasıdır. (Fahruddîn Er-Râzî, Tefsîr-i Kebîr Mefâtîhu'l-Ğayb, c.1, s.354-355)

How well do you really know North Dakota? Tank reads a series of true‑or‑false statements about the Peace Garden State, and the Wake Up Call crew decides if each one is North Dakota! — or Nuh! From strange small‑town facts to state history curveballs, this one tests local knowledge in the most fun way possible.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Pdt. Wigand Sugandi (TB) Matius 24:37-38 & 42"Sebab sebagaimana halnya pada zaman Nuh, demikian pula halnya kelak pada kedatangan Anak Manusia. Sebab sebagaimana mereka pada zaman sebelum air bah itu makan dan minum, kawin dan mengawinkan, sampai kepada hari Nuh masuk ke dalam bahtera,

In this episode, we talk about what it's really like to raise Muslim kids in the West during Ramadan, the fasting battles, the different personalities, and how to get your kids genuinely excited about Islam. We share personal reflections from the Quran this Ramadan, including gems from the story of Nuh, the Prophet's death, and an Islamic court system that has no equal anywhere in the world. We also discuss the Iran situation, the moral panic spreading on social media, and why Muslims need to stop chasing the prophecies of others and trust what Allah has already told us. All links to contact/contribute/follow us: http://www.mindheistpodcast.com Join the Telegram group for MH listeners: https://t.me/+XOu4ggsyqRk3OWRk Sisters only group: https://t.me/mindheistsisters Check out Ameen's Hijrah YT channel: https://www.youtube.com/@ameenhijrahlife Find out about Mohamed's projects: https://many.link/akhitweet Video version of the pod: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5ZvWFoIJNmQISsKE1PZB3d7KcpnEcJy7 Leave us a great review if you're enjoying the show too! Stay blessed!

Kencan Dengan Tuhan - Rabu, 22 April 2026Bacaan: "Dan Henokh hidup bergaul dengan Allah selama tiga ratus tahun lagi... dan Nuh itu hidup bergaul dengan Allah." (Kejadian 5:22; 6:9)Renungan: Pergaulan adalah hal yang menjadi kebutuhan manusia. Rasanya tidak mungkin kita hidup tanpa pergaulan. Dengan bergaul kita akan dapat hidup memberi dan menerima, saling menopang dan mendukung. Kita dapat mengenal orang lain lebih dalam, memahami suka-duka hidupnya, mengenal watak dan karakternya, sisi terang dan gelapnya. Bergaul itu baik, tapi kita diminta untuk bersikap bijaksana memilih pergaulan yang sehat. Sebab bergaul dengan orang yang tidak tepat, dapat menyeret kita dalam masalah yang besar, bahkan dapat menghancurkan hidup kita sendiri. Dua orang tokoh besar Perjanjian Lama, Henokh dan Nuh hidup bergaul dengan Tuhan Allah. Henokh panjang umur dan Nuh terpilih menjadi keluarga yang diselamatkan ketika dunia makin bertambah-tambah dalam dosa. Hidup bergaul dengan Allah membuat iman kita akan terus terpelihara. Pemazmur mengatakan "Ya Allah, Engkaulah Allahku, aku mencari Engkau, jiwaku haus kepada-Mu, tubuhku rindu kepada-Mu, seperti tanah yang kering dan tandus, tiada berair" (Mzm. 63:2). Apakah kita juga selalu merindukan Tuhan dan bergaul akrab dengan Dia? Tuhan Yesus memberkati. Doa:Tuhan Yesus, bantulah aku agar dapat memelihara dan menjalin hubungan yang akrab dengan-Mu. Amin. (Dod).

Surah 71 Chapter 71 Nuh complete Quran with Urdu Hindi translation

Does North Dakota really have islands, free land, and its own horse breed? Tank quizzes Scotch and Mandy in North Dakota or Nuh?, a fast-paced trivia game separating state facts from fiction. You’ll learn something, laugh a little, and probably say “no way” at least once.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Tonight is the 29th night of Ramadan. The last taraweeh. The last night of the year.Make full use of it. The best du'a for Laylatul Qadr is Allahumma innaka afuwwun tuhibbul afwa fa'fu anni ya Kareem — O Allah, You are the Pardoner, You love to pardon, so pardon me. Keep returning to it tonight, and especially at suhoor time. Allah mentions in the Quran a special rank for those who make istighfar in the early hours before dawn: wa bil ashari hum yastaghfirun. Some of our scholars would dedicate that time between the sunnah of Fajr and the salah itself entirely to istighfar — a hundred times, quietly, consistently. Do that tonight.And in your du'a, ask Allah not to make this our last Ramadan. Ask Him to grant us another.Grounded is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.A few reminders: tomorrow night — Thursday, the eve of Eid — is our potluck iftar at Qaswa House. Doors open at 6pm, iftar around 6:35. Bring a plate to share. The kids will have games and activities, weather permitting. Friday is Eid prayer at MacDougall Park in Como — takbir at 8, prayer at 8:30.And this tafseer series continues. We will pick up Surah Al-A'raf every Thursday night at Qaswa — Maghrib together, some dhikr, tafseer, then Isha and dinner. 7pm. Starting this coming Thursday. If you want to follow the surah through to the end, come join us.Hadramaut, Nusantara, and the People of 'AdWe began the story of Prophet Hud last night. He was sent to the people of 'Ad — a civilisation that lived in Hadramaut, Yemen, not far from the city of Tarim.Hadramaut holds a special place in the hearts of Malay Muslims. It is the origin of the Hadrami scholars and traders who brought Islam to the Nusantara — the vast Indonesian archipelago. They came not with armies but with akhlaq. They traded honestly. They treated people beautifully. And when people asked why — why are your manners like this, why are you so trustworthy — they would explain: because I follow the teaching of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. That is how Indonesia became the largest Muslim country in the world without a single Arab army ever setting foot on its soil.Thousands of years before any of that, 'Ad was there. A people of extraordinary power. Allah says to them in this surah: We increased you in your creation — strength, stature, capacity. They built civilisations. The Quraysh of Makkah knew about them. They took pride in them as ancestors. And so when Allah tells their story in the Quran, He is speaking directly to the Quraysh: this is who you are proud of. Look what happened to them when they rejected their Prophet.The Message Never Changed — Only the DetailsProphet Hud stood before his people and said: O my people, worship Allah. You have no god other than Him.The same words as Prophet Nuh. The same words as every prophet before and after. From Adam to Muhammad ﷺ, the core of the message has never changed: La ilaha illallah. Tawheed. Worship only Allah.But the details of the Sharia — how that worship is expressed, what the laws look like, the specifics of punishment and obligation — those have changed across time. And that is not God changing His mind. That is God being perfectly calibrated to the people He is speaking to.Every generation is different. The laws of previous nations were stricter, harsher. The tawbah for shirk in the Sharia of Musa, for instance, required death — the only atonement for major sins was the taking of life. Christianity inherited this concept and built the doctrine of atonement around it: the idea that someone must die for sin to be absorbed. Our belief is different — no one carries another's sin, and Allah does not need anyone to die on His behalf in order to forgive. He is Al-Afuww. He simply pardons. Islam came with the lightest sharia of all the prophetic traditions: even shirk, the gravest of sins, requires only sincere tawbah and the shahada.Why lighter? Because humans have become softer over time. That is simply true. My mother cycled ten kilometres to school each morning without complaint. My father hunted birds with a slingshot as a child, cooked them himself, and came home with his stomach half full before his parents knew anything about it. Today, children cry when they watch someone slaughter a chicken.People change. Allah knows this. The Sharia adapts. But the tawheed does not move.Some things remain constant from Adam to Yawmul Qiyamah: worship Allah alone, honour your parents, maintain good character, care for the orphan and the poor, speak kindly to people. The details of how — the minimum of zakat, the specific forms — may be calibrated to time and place. The principles themselves are eternal.Grounded is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Why Hud Said Something Different From NuhHere is something small but worth paying attention to.When Prophet Nuh called his people, he said: I fear for you the punishment of a great day. He had to tell them what was coming — because they had never seen collective divine punishment before. Nuh's people were the first community to be destroyed. There was no precedent. The warning had to be explicit.But when Prophet Hud called his people, he said something different: Do you not have taqwa? He did not need to spell out what the punishment looked like. Because the people of ‘Ad still remembered. The great flood was not ancient history to them — it was recent memory, passed down through their ancestors. The story was fresh. All Hud had to do was point to what they already knew: don't you remember what happened? Are you not afraid?This is the Quran being precise in a way that rewards attention. The surface looks similar — a prophet calling his people to Tawheed, the elite rejecting him. But the language shifts in exactly the way historical context demands. And when you notice those shifts, as Professor Sayyid Naqib Al-Attas — who passed away just days ago, may Allah grant him the highest Jannah, one of the greatest Muslim thinkers of our age — always said: the Quran is not a book for lazy people. It rewards those who think, who ponder, who are willing to ask why.Al-Attas spent his life arguing that after colonisation and the fall of the Ottoman Caliphate, Muslims should not paste Islamic varnish over Western philosophical frameworks. He said the answer had to come from within the tradition itself. His work gave birth to institutions like IIUM — the International Islamic University Malaysia — and ISTAC. His book Islam and Secularism remains essential reading for anyone serious about Islamic education and worldview. We lost a giant.Al-Mala' — Then and NowAs with Nuh, the first to reject Prophet Hud were al-mala' — the rich and powerful elite. But there is a subtle and important difference. In the story of Nuh, the Quran simply says al-mala' min qawmihi — the chiefs of his people rejected him. In the story of Hud, it says al-mala' alladhina kafaru min qawmihi — the chiefs who disbelieved from his people.Why the extra qualification? Because not all the chiefs of 'Ad rejected Hud. Some of them believed. The memory of the flood was still close enough that some of the powerful had held on to their fear of Allah. So Allah was precise: it was specifically the disbelieving chiefs who called Hud a fool and a liar — not all of them.The pattern of al-mala' rejecting the truth is a constant across every prophet's story in the Quran. It repeats so often it cannot be coincidence — Allah is drawing our attention to a structural reality of power. The elite benefit from the existing order. A prophet comes and says the order is unjust, that the weak deserve protection, that no one is above accountability. The elite's wealth and status depend on that order remaining intact. So they fight back.And the masses, generally, follow whoever is loudest and most visible.The Prophet ﷺ said that every prophet before prophethood worked as a shepherd. Including him ﷺ. Because you learn people management from managing sheep — you learn how to lead those who follow instinct and momentum, who drift toward whoever is in front of them.We think we have escaped this. We are in 2026. We have the internet. We have access to every idea in human history. Surely we are not sheep.And then you walk into a supermarket. Milk and bread — the things almost everyone needs — are placed at the furthest possible corner. You have to walk past everything else to reach them. The placement is not accidental. It is psychologically engineered to make you spend. Children love McDonald's not because of the food but because that golden arch has been placed in their visual field since before they could speak, associated with happiness, associated with play. We did not choose to love it. We were led there.The top influencer on Instagram earns more than the CEO of Instagram. The top creator on YouTube earns more than the CEO of YouTube. We have simply replaced the ancient al-mala' with a new one — one that reaches us through screens instead of town squares, but shapes our choices just as effectively.This is why La ilaha illallah is not just a statement of theology. It is a declaration of independence. I submit to Allah alone. My thinking is shaped by what Allah has revealed. My standard for acceptance and rejection is not whatever the powerful say, not whatever is trending, not whatever algorithm is currently deciding what I see. It is La ilaha illallah, Muhammadur Rasulullah ﷺ.That is the only real freedom.Prophet Hud RespondsThe disbelieving chiefs called Hud a fool and a liar. He responded with quiet dignity: O my people, there is no foolishness in me. I am a messenger from Rabbil Alameen — the Lord of the universe.Every prophet, before prophethood, was known for their intelligence and their beautiful character. The people of 'Ad knew Hud. He was from among them — akhahum Huda, their brother. The accusation of foolishness was not sincere. They knew he was not stupid. They knew he was not lying. They rejected because they did not want what he was calling them toward.We will continue the story of Prophet Hud next Thursday at Qaswa insha'Allah.A Final Word Before EidTwenty-nine nights. Alhamdulillah.Whatever we managed this Ramadan — however much or little — we ask Allah to accept it. We ask Him to forgive us for the nights we wasted and to count among our good deeds the nights we tried. We ask Him not to make this our last Ramadan. We ask Him to let us meet the next one with stronger roots, deeper iman, and better character than we had when this one began.Taqabbalallahu minna wa minkum. May Allah accept from all of us.Thanks for reading Grounded! This post is public so feel free to share it.The tafseer of Surah Al-A'raf continues at Qaswa every Thursday night, 7pm. A paid subscription includes the Surah Al-A'raf Study Guide and Workbook. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit groundeddaily.substack.com/subscribe

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit groundeddaily.substack.comNight 28. The last taraweeh is tomorrow. It went fast.A few housekeeping notes: Thursday night — the eve of Eid — we will have a potluck iftar at Qaswa House starting at 6pm, with iftar around 6:35. Bring a plate to share. The kids will have activities while the adults eat. After that we'll pray Isha together and do takbir to welcome Eid.Friday is Eid prayer at McDougall Park in Como. Takbir at 8, prayer at 8:30. And yes — since Eid falls on a Friday this year, the question of Jumu'ah comes up. The Shafi'i position is that Jumu'ah remains obligatory for those living in the city. The Hanbali reading gives the option to skip it for those who came from outside the city, but holds that the Imam must still lead it. Since we live in the city and the masjid is not far, I'll keep my khutbah to 10 minutes and the prayer short so everyone can go and celebrate.This tafseer series continues after Ramadan on Thursday nights at Qaswa — 7pm, finishing with Isha and dinner around 9 to 9:30. If you want to follow Surah Al-A'raf through to the end, come join us.Was the Flood Global or Local?We ended last night at the great flood. Today I want to address the question that comes up every single time I teach this story to kids in Australia.Were kangaroos on the ark?And before you smile — it is actually a serious theological question. The Bible says the flood was global and every species of animal was taken two by two. That immediately creates a problem: Australian animals are unique. Kangaroos, wombats, possums, platypuses — they exist nowhere else on earth. How did they get to Prophet Nuh to board the ark? And how did they get back to Australia afterwards without leaving any trace of themselves along the way?This level of specificity is precisely why many scientifically-minded people struggle with the biblical account. The Bible gives exact dimensions for the ark, an exact timeline, an exact animal count — and when those details collide with scientific and geographical reality, the whole thing becomes very difficult to hold.The Quran does not work that way. And that difference matters enormously.Grounded is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Three ReadingsOur scholars hold two broad positions on the flood of Nuh, and I want to offer a third that I find most compelling.The first position: it was a global flood. The argument rests on the generality of certain Quranic ayat — particularly in Surah Hud — where the language is broad enough to suggest the entire earth. Allah saved Nuh and those with him and destroyed everyone else. “Everyone else” could mean all of humanity everywhere.The second position: it was a localised flood, specific to the qawm of Prophet Nuh. The theological argument is straightforward — Nuh was sent to his people. The punishment was for their rejection. Why would Allah destroy people in Australia, people in the Americas, people who had never received a messenger and had no idea any of this was happening? That is inconsistent with the divine justice we know from the Quran. Allah does not punish people who were never warned.The third reading — and this is where it gets interesting — is that the flood was localised geographically, but effectively encompassed all of humanity, because at that point in history, all of humanity lived in roughly the same place.Anthropological evidence suggests that when we trace humanity back 50,000 to 60,000 years, we find our ancestors concentrated in one region — having migrated out of Africa and settled in and around the Fertile Crescent. At the time of Prophet Nuh, the human race was still young. Its population was geographically concentrated. A great flood in that region could have destroyed virtually all of humanity that existed then — without covering the entire physical globe. And when the Quran says Allah took animals onto the ark, it was not every species on earth. It was the animals of that community. The sheep, the cattle, the camels — the practical animals you would need to rebuild your life after the waters receded. Not giraffes. Not hippos. Not kangaroos.The Story That Made Me StopWhat makes this third reading extraordinary is the evidence you find when you look at how widely the flood story appears across human cultures — especially cultures that had zero contact with each other.The Aztecs of Mesoamerica were completely isolated from the Old World until the 15th century. And yet they have a flood story. A man named Coxcox went before the Creator God, complained about the wickedness of his people, and the Creator sent a great flood to cleanse the earth. Coxcox survived on a raft. When the waters began to recede, he sent a bird out — and it returned with signs of land. Identical in structure to the story of Nuh. Same moral arc. Same divine response. Same bird.And then there is the story from the Kimberley.

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit groundeddaily.substack.comTonight is the 27th night of Ramadan.By the account of many companions and the opinion of many scholars, the 27th carries the highest probability of being Laylatul Qadr among all the odd nights. There is no guarantee — the Prophet ﷺ told us to hunt through all of the last ten. But if any one night has the strongest case, it is this one.The companions would dress nicely on this night. Apply perfume. Their wives would wonder — where are you going? And they would say: I am welcoming a very important guest. Because after the passing of the Prophet ﷺ, Jibreel only comes to earth once a year — on the night of Al-Qadr. Tanazzalul mala'ikatu warruh. The angels, led by Jibreel, descend.And the Prophet ﷺ said: if your eyes could see, on this night there would not be a single empty space on earth. Every spot, every gap, filled by angels. Recording. Witnessing. Think about that. Every angel comes down tonight — and what they record about you is entirely in your hands.The name Al-Qadr also comes from constriction — qaddara — because the earth, as vast as it is, becomes constricted by the sheer number of angels filling it. And in Surah Dukhan, Allah tells us this is the night when all divine affairs are distributed — the decree for the coming year is announced to the angels. Rizq. Life. Death. The angel of provision gets his list. The angel of death gets his. Every angel receives their assignment for the year ahead.Think of it like budget night — the night before the Prime Minister tables the budget, if you have something to submit, that is the time to submit it. Between the Luh Mahfuz and the angels receiving their instructions, tonight is when our du'a can be most profound. We make our requests before the roster is handed out.This is not a precise theological description of how divine decree works — nothing is comparable to Allah. But it helps us feel the weight of what this night is. Make du'a tonight. Make it seriously. And please — make du'a for me and my family as well.What We Established Last NightWe began the story of Prophet Nuh. He made da'wah for 950 years to the first people in human history to worship idols. The idols started innocently — statues built to commemorate five pious people who had died. Remembrance became veneration. Veneration became worship. Generations passed, the original intent was lost, and what began as tribute ended as shirk.This is why Islam is strict about statues — not children's toys, not Superman figures your kids kick around the room, but the veneration of figures, the careful display of them, the collecting of them. The trajectory has been seen before. It doesn't always end in shirk, but the path that leads there started exactly here. The fiqh rule exists because of history.A paid subscription includes a free digital copy of the Surah Al-A'raf Study Guide and Workbook. Da'wah Without Self-InterestProphet Nuh stood before his people and said: I fear for you the punishment of a great day.Not: I want to be your leader. Not: follow me and I will give you power. Not: I have a new system and it will make us great. He was afraid — for them. His da'wah came entirely from love and concern for the people he was sent to.This is the sunnah of every prophet. And it is the standard for everyone who inherits their work.If you are teaching Islamic studies, running a halaqah, leading a masjid programme — the moment you stop caring about the people in front of you, the moment it becomes about status or position or income, you have lost the plot. In Australia especially, there is almost nothing to gain materially from Islamic work. In Malaysia, a good hafiz leading taraweeh can earn 30,000 ringgit in a month of Ramadan. Here, you are lucky if the costs are covered. Sometimes the teacher pays out of pocket just to keep things running.So why do it? Because you care about the akhirah of the people in front of you. Because you are afraid for them, the same way Prophet Nuh was afraid for his people. That is the only motivation that sustains this work.Al-Mala' — The Elite Always Push BackThe first people to reject Prophet Nuh were al-mala' — the rich and powerful elite of his community.This is not a coincidence. It is a pattern. You will find it in the story of every prophet in the Quran, repeated so consistently that Allah is clearly drawing our attention to it. The rich and powerful elite reject the prophet. Every single time.Why? Because the prophet brings a new system. And the elite benefit from the existing system. They have built their wealth, their influence, their status within the current order — and now someone is standing up and saying: this order is wrong. You are oppressing the weak. You are exploiting the poor. The system you have constructed for your own benefit is not the system Allah approves of.Of course they push back. You are clearly misguided. That was what the mala' of Nuh's people said. It is what every elite says to every prophet who threatens the status quo.Prophet Nuh responded: I am not misguided. I am a messenger from the master of the universe. And I am giving you sincere nasiha.Nasiha — sincere advice. Not paid advice. The Arabic distinction is precise: if you are paid for your advice, you are a mustashar, a consultant. If you give it freely, from care, that is nasiha. The prophets were giving nasiha. Wa ana lakum nasihun amin — a sincere and trustworthy advisor. Unpaid. Uncorrupted. Answerable only to Allah.Feudalism, Communism, and Why Humans Need RevelationThe pattern of al-mala' rejecting the truth is not limited to ancient history. It is the pattern of human political organisation without divine guidance.What did feudalism look like? Kings and courts doing as they pleased. Peasants with no land, no rights, no voice — working someone else's fields for nothing. The system existed entirely to serve those at the top.And what was the extreme human response to feudalism? Marx. Communism. Abolish all class structures. Everyone equal. Everyone paid the same regardless of talent, effort, or contribution.

Nine nights in. If you've been reading one juz a night, you've just passed Surah Al-A'raf in your recitation — the very surah we're studying together. A good reminder of how the Quran works on multiple levels simultaneously.The Naked Tawaf — ContinuedLast night we left off with the Quraysh practice of doing tawaf naked around the Kaaba. Tonight, a detail worth noting: the Quraysh themselves were exempt from this practice. They claimed to be the pure people of Makkah, above sin — so they could do tawaf in clothing. It was only the outsiders, the pilgrims who travelled from afar, who had to choose: strip down, or buy fresh garments from the Quraysh merchants.A shameless practice, with a profitable business model built into it.And when challenged, their answer was simple: our ancestors did this, and Allah commanded it.Allah's response was immediate: “Allah does not command shameless things. Are you saying about Allah what you do not know?”This is the danger of reason untethered from revelation. The argument the Quraysh made — that you were born naked and sinless, so the purest worship is naked worship — has an internal logic to it. You can follow it step by step and almost be convinced. But it leads somewhere Allah never intended. Modesty is not a burden placed on human nature. It is human nature. The nafs, the animal side of us, knows no shame. Haya is what lifts us above it. When we strip away modesty, we strip away something uniquely human.What Allah Actually Commands: Qist“Say: My Lord commands justice — qist.”Two Arabic words are both translated as justice in English: adala and qist. But they are not the same.Adala is doing what is right at a given moment — even if one party walks away unhappy. A judge delivers adala. The winning side praises him. The losing side calls him the worst judge they've ever seen. That is the nature of adala — it is correct, but not always mutually satisfying.Qist is higher. It is the middle path that brings both parties to a place of genuine acceptance. Not just legally correct, but humanly resolved. Adala is passing. Qist is excellent.Allah commands us toward qist — in our worship, in our dealings, in how we carry ourselves in this world.The Cure for ShamelessnessHere is what is striking. Allah has just spoken about shamelessness — the Quraysh doing tawaf naked, Shaitan's mission to strip humanity of modesty. And what is the cure Allah prescribes?Not a dress code. Not isolation. Not a list of prohibitions.Prayer.“Establish your faces at every masjid.”The word masjid here goes back to its root — sajada, to prostrate. This surah is Makki; the only masjid at the time was Masjid Al-Haram, surrounded by 365 idols. So Allah is not speaking about a building. He is speaking about the act itself. Every time and place of sujud — turn yourself fully toward Allah.And why wajh, face? Because the face is the most honourable part of a person. In Arabic, the most honourable portion can denote the whole. When you bring your face to the ground in sujud — the most honourable part of you touching the lowest point — that is the full surrender of the entire self.This is how prayer protects us from shamelessness. Allah says elsewhere in the Quran that prayer prohibits a person from fahsha — from indecency and evil. But how? We all know people who pray and still fall into wrong.The answer is in the word aqimu — establish. Not just perform. Not just go through the motions. To establish prayer is to be present in it. To actually stand before Allah, to speak to the Lord of the universe, to feel that you are seen.Think about it this way: if you were called to the principal's office this morning and firmly reminded of your responsibilities, how would you behave for the rest of the day? Even a difficult student behaves for at least a few hours after that meeting.Now imagine the meeting is with the Lord of the universe. Every morning before sunrise. Fajr carries you through the morning. Then Dhuhr arrives before you can wander too far. Then Asr. Then Maghrib. Then Isha. If you are truly present in each one — truly establishing, not just performing — there is barely a gap for shaitan to work in.The prayer, established with presence, is the antidote.We Began Without Clothes — We Return Without ClothesAllah closes this passage with a reminder: just as we entered this world, we will return to Allah. Naked. On the plains of Yawmul Qiyamah, everyone resurrected the same way.Sayyidatuna Aisha asked: won't we be ashamed — with everyone around us?The Prophet ﷺ said: the day will be too great. No one will have the capacity to think about anyone else. Even the greatest prophets — Adam, Nuh, Ibrahim, Musa, Isa — when people come to them seeking intercession, they will say: nafsi, nafsi. Myself, myself. I have my own account to answer for.Only the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ will say: this is what I was created for. And he will intercede.On that day, the sun will feel as though it is a hand span above our heads. People will be drowning in their own sweat. But some will be shaded — elevated on hills, wearing shining crowns, alongside their spouses. People will look up and wonder who they are, what they did to deserve this.They will be told: your children memorised the Quran.If the parents of Quran memorisers are raised to such a station — what of the memorisers themselves?It Is Never Too LateThe Prophet ﷺ received his first revelation at 40. Abu Bakr accepted Islam at 38. Neither said: I am too old for this.If memorising the entire Quran feels out of reach, change the target. One ayah a day, understood deeply, revised slowly, carried with you. One juz a year. In thirty years, you have the whole Quran — memorised with comprehension, not just repetition.And if life takes you before you finish? The Prophet ﷺ said that whoever makes a consistent effort toward something and is prevented from completing it, Allah will complete the reward for them.Start. Stay consistent. Do not give up.Anything attached to the Quran becomes elevated in the eyes of Allah.We stopped here tonight. Tomorrow insha'Allah, we continue.Following along with the series? Consider a paid subscription to receive a free digital copy of the Surah Al-A'raf Study Guide and Workbook. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit groundeddaily.substack.com/subscribe

Surah Hud is the 11th chapter of the Qur'an and teaches believers about faith, patience, and remaining steadfast upon the truth. The surah recounts the stories of the prophets Nuh (عليه السلام), Hud (عليه السلام), Salih (عليه السلام), Ibrahim (عليه السلام), Lut (عليه السلام), and Musa (عليه السلام), describing how they called their people to worship Allah alone and to abandon wrongdoing. It highlights the mercy of Allah toward those who believe and repent, and the consequences faced by those who persist in disbelief and arrogance. Surah Hud reminds Muslims to remain firm in obedience, trust in Allah's wisdom, and have certainty that justice and guidance come from Him alone. This video series is a curated collection of reflections and summaries drawn from the 30 Days with the Qur'an series, where each Juz was explored over the month of Ramadan. While not a full tafsir, these concise and heartfelt talks aim to highlight key themes and insights from each Surah to inspire a deeper connection with the Qur'an. In this series, we've taken those reflections and focused them surah by surah, offering a dedicated video for each chapter of the Qur'an. The goal is to spark curiosity, build motivation, and encourage further study of the Qur'an in a manageable, engaging format. Whether you're revisiting familiar Surahs or exploring new ones, these summaries are here to help you pause, reflect, and fall in love with the Qur'an all over again.

Tank tries to stump Scotch and Mandy with real and ridiculous North Dakota “facts.” If it’s true, they yell “North Dakota!” — if not, it’s a big “Nuh!” Two rounds of prairie pride, confusion, questionable confidence, and way too much ND trivia you never asked for but can’t stop listening to.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Aylin Öney Tan'ın 10 Şubat Dünya Baklagil Günü vesilesiyle hazırladığı özel seri şimdi tek kayıtta.Kuru fasulyeden mercimeğe, bakladan börülceye…Anadolu'dan Amerika'ya, Afrika'dan Hindistan'a uzanan baklagillerin göç hikâyeleri, milli yemeklerimiz, az bilinen çeşitler ve atıştırmalık kültürü bu dosyada.Nuh'un ambarındaki gambilya, Antik Mısır'dan gelen tirmis, Manyas Kazak fasulyesi, İspir ve Çandır fasulyeleri…Çorbadan makarnaya, favadan dondurmaya uzanan tarifler ve mutfak kültürü.İklim krizini düşündüğümüzde bitkisel proteinin önemi daha da artarken, baklagiller hem tarih hem beslenme hem de sürdürülebilirlik açısından yeniden masada.

#acıtatlımayhoşKuru bakladan fava gibi, Antalya'da mercimekten dondurma yapılır. Bodrum usulü fava isi, gambilyadan yapılır. Çorbası da, favası da olan bir bezelye çeşidi. Türkiye'de az bilinen gambilya, İtalya'da "Nuh'un ambarı" listesinde olan bir yiyecek. Aylin Öney Tan tarifini de veriyor. This podcast is powered by Podcastics, the easiest platform to create and publish your podcast.

Think you know North Dakota? North Dakota or NUH? on The Wake Up Call puts your knowledge to the test! Tank drops surprising statements about the Peace Garden State, and Mandy and Scotch have to decide: is it a true North Dakota fact or a total NUH? Packed with quirky history, wild trivia, and plenty of laughs, this game is perfect for anyone who loves local pride and a good challenge. Tune in and play along—can you spot the real from the ridiculous?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

287. bölümde AlbarakaTech Global Proje, Pazarlama ve İş Geliştirme Müdürü Nuh Çoşkun Yağmur konuğum oldu. (00:00) – Açılış (01:30) - Nuh Coskun Yağmur'u tanıyoruz. (03:07) – Önümüzdeki günlerde yapay zekada bizi neler bekliyor? https://www.2wai.ai/ https://www.imdb.com/de/title/tt2085059/ (09:47) - “Sorumlu yapay zekâ” sizin için ne anlama geliyor? Türkiye'de ve dünyada kurumlar bu konuya ne kadar hazır? (13:20) - Bir şirket YZ kullanırken etik riskleri nasıl yönetmeli? En büyük boşluk nerede? (15:23) - Regtech tarafında şu anda en çok konuşulan regulasyon trendi nedir? (18:00) - Bugün dijital kimlik tarafındaki en büyük kırılma noktası nedir? (22:22) - Bankacılık ve fintech rekabetinin önümüzdeki 3 yıldaki en kritik dönüşümü ne olacak? Bankalar ile fintech'ler artık rakip mi, yoksa daha çok iş birliği mi görüyoruz? (28:40) – Yasaların kolaylaştırıcı etkisini avantaja çevirmek (32:12) - YZ'nin kredi değerlendirme süreçlerine girmesi hakkındaki görüşünüz nedir? Adalet ve şeffaflık sağlanabiliyor mu? Bay Evet - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1068680/⁠ (35:15) - Dijital cüzdanlar ödeme alışkanlıklarımızı nasıl değiştirecek? Süper App'ler (38:40) - Günümüzde çalışanlar için veri okuryazarlığı neden bu kadar kritik? (44:27) - Kitap Önerileri Google Nasıl Yönetiliyor? - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27425097-google-nas-l-y-netiliyor?ref=113 Bilinç Altı Nasıl Yönetilir? - (45:30) - Son sözler ve kapanış Sosyal Medya takibi yaptın mı? ⁠X⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  – ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ – ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Linkedin⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ – ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Youtube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ – ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Goodreads⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bülten⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ – ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠E-Posta⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ – Bu çalışmaları ve emeklerimi desteklemek için ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  ve Buy Me A Coffee hesabımız⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

SEASON 4 EPISODE 42: COUNTDOWN WITH KEITH OLBERMANN A-Block (2:30) SPECIAL COMMENT: Trump is drowning. Trump’s presidency is DROWNING. Yesterday, it was Republicans forcing a vote to extend Obamacare subsidies. Yesterday, 38 PERCENT approval in the Marist poll. Monday, his Rob Reiner tweet that appalled even the worst of MAGA. Tuesday, Susie Wiles. Friday, the Epstein Files, proving: no, history doesn’t repeat itself but yes, sometimes it LITERALLY rhymes. The Venezuela Wag-The-Dog episode collapsed before it started. It's about Narco-terrorism, whatever the eff that is? Oil? Stuff they stole? Nuh uh. For the first but not the last time we turn to Susie Wiles for the, uh, well, it’s a strange word to use about the Trump administration but here it is: TRUTH. "He wants to keep on blowing boats up until [president Nicolás] Maduro cries uncle. And people way smarter than me on that say that he will." She also single-handedly ended the just-forming prosecution of Jack Smith, and the vowed prosecution of Anthony Fauci, and the already-moribund prosecutions of James Comey and Letitia James and Adam Schiff and and and…All those cases will be thrown out of court. All of them. Because Susie Wiles is on tape saying quote “I don’t think he wakes up thinking about retribution but when there’s an opportunity he will go for it.” About Comey, quote: “I mean, people could think it does look vindictive. I can’t tell you why you shouldn’t think that.” Trump’s chief of staff. Confirming it’s retribution. And retribution means selective prosecution and selective prosecution is illegal and you not only get the case thrown out, if you’ve had to defend yourself or your reputation has been hurt, you can sue the government. And it’s on TAPE. So why did she say it? Why did she think she could get away with it? Because inside the White House even the Chief of Staff knows Trump is drowning. And they are beginning to distance themselves from him. B-Block (27:00) THE WORST PERSONS IN THE WORLD: Laura Ingraham doesn't know Niagara Falls is in Ontario or Ontario is in Canada or that Premier Doug Ford isn't an American. I make bad choices in Exes. And these MAGA idiots just cannot see anything in the world any more without trying to force it into their brain-dead templates: it MUST be political and it MUST be an attack on Trump. New York City councilwoman Vickie Paladino "knows" the terrible shooting was an attack on Republicans at Brown University, and the moronic troll "Cat Turd" is sure they're wiping the shooter's social media history clean (which is an idea he should execute). C-Block (37:00) THINGS I PROMISED NOT TO TELL: I'm off by only four days from the exact anniversary, but it is now 42 years since I first met and interviewed Trump and I know most of us who knew him before knew he was nuts, but I must give myself credit. An hour after that meeting I was asking a colleague "what the eff is wrong with THAT guy?"See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Is that a real North Dakota fact… or total nonsense? Tank brings the statements, and Scotch and Mandy have to decide: North Dakota or Nuh? From quirky state laws to bizarre trivia, this hilarious game will test what you think you know about the Peace Garden State. Play along and see if you can outsmart the crew!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The Time Riders: Part 9 Planning Another Vacation Time Travel. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark's Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke'. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. The Retiallis: A gladiator of the Collosseum. Prefers the trident spear and netting, to subdue opponents. Escapes to Sumeria. Rullus: A bulky gladiator of huge physical dimensions. Has an affection for Achilleia. Escapes to Sumeria. Achilleia: A fierce female gladiator. Prefers the whip and sword as weapons. Has a crush on Rullus. Escapes to Sumeria. Roxy stomped out of his room, trying to not slam the door behind her. Once he heard her heading down the stairs, Mark sank onto the corner of his bed and exhaled loudly, another shiver running up his spine. He suddenly had to pee. Had he really told Roxy the truth? He hadn't planned to, but he didn't exactly know what he planned to tell her, either. Now that he thought of it, telling her the truth was even more ridiculous than any appreciable lie he could have come up with, wasn't it? Of course she wouldn't believe him about a time machine, and she was quite reasonable not to. Just because it was true didn't mean she was committing an error in judgment. But now what? He had no idea how long her coerced 'promise' would hold her. She was really hot under the collar, and Roxy didn't take losing well at the best of times. He'd just have to be careful, he supposed. More so. He sighed and looked down at her little weed pipe, still in its baggie. In a moment of panic, when Roxy had been standing over him and threatening to slug him across the jaw, he'd made an instant decision; taking a lesson from his playbook with Becky; and resolved that he would get into Danni's house and filch the pipe, because he knew Roxy kept it there. He'd heard her talking over the phone about it with Danni at various points, and never really thought anything of it. Until now. He was familiar with Danni's house, since she'd been best friends with Roxy since they were little. When the two families were having dinner together, the girls had often dragged Mark upstairs and dressed him in girl's clothes and put makeup on him, like he was a doll for their tea parties. He also knew that Danni's parents didn't care if she smoked, because he'd heard Roxy lament this fact over the phone, wishing her parents were that cool. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do the math of all this in his head. It would take Roxy thirty minutes to reach Danni's house in her car, to ask what the Hell had happened. But Danni would protest, insisting she'd never betray her friend and give Mark the pipe. Then she'd prove it by showing Roxy it was exactly where it was supposed to be, which was taped inside to the top of her underwear drawer. Only it wouldn't be there. Unless Mark went back to Danni's place and stashed it again, before the girls got up to her room. And then got out again. That'd really fuck with Roxy's head, and make Danni think Rox had gone insane. It took eight minutes for Mark to fire up and prime the Holmes Field Device, which was sitting in a corner in the basement that no one ever used. It was dead space, and as safe as any place else could be that wasn't Becky's basement. Eight minutes to prime it and program in the coordinates and the time. Like, literally a minute after he'd apparently gotten the pipe out of there to begin with. What? His mind was almost spinning at the logic flips. He had to return the pipe before he actually stole it? When did he steal it if he hadn't done it before returning it? And did that mean he had to steal it twice? He could account, apparently, for Danni not being in her room the first time, because he'd seemingly gotten away with it. If he landed a minute or so after he had burgled her, he would have the time he needed, he hoped, before she came back from wherever she was. Return it; steal it later, when no one is looking, then return it; I think. He heard the distinct sound of Roxy's Mustang roaring away down the road angrily. He somehow doubted that he had thirty minutes. What if he miscalculated and got caught? The obvious issues aside, how did he explain the Holmes Field Device? Could he explain it? People in this era thought time travel was fanciful sci-fi, after all. What happened then? He dropped the baggie on the bed, clasped his face in his hands and groaned, the number of calculations he needed to do making his head hurt. He really needed to stop pulling his solutions out of his ass, he was going to give himself a time-hemorrhoid. Time was wasting. "Wow, Mark," Becky mused as she sat in her lounger, sipping at the Falernian wine. Her bottles were almost gone, and they'd soon have to go back to their secret place in the woods and get more. It had been a rather involved operation, getting the giant vats aged a certain number of years back in the Roman era, then transporting them into the present and burying them again, so that they had a large stock of perfectly aged wine. "You sure like to play with fire, don't you?" "Tell me about it," he said wearily, as he sat on the couch, long pull drink from his own wine glass. "Can't believe it went off without a hitch." "You were near death that first night with me," Becky said rather somberly, concerned about the stress on her student's face. "And that only required one trip on your part, and my belief in myself. This little circus, however, I'll be amazed if your time cops don't show up to lecture you again. You'd deserve it." "I felt trapped, okay?" he said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He knew Becky was right, and he didn't want to snap at her. It had just really worn him out. He'd lost track of when he was supposed to be there, and how often. He'd eventually concluded that dumb luck had saved him from criminal charges, not to mention any other headaches. "I just; when telling her the truth didn't make her go away, I jumped into my playbook, which at this time, consists of what I did with you." "What would you have done, exactly, if she'd believed you about the Holmes Field Device?" Becky queried, looking at him with interest. He considered and gave a halfhearted shrug. "I guess I knew she wouldn't, because if I told Roxy I was a guy, she'd yank my pants down to make sure. But to answer your question, I; I dunno. I was just really outta options." "I know you know this, Mark, but we obviously have to find ways for you to be even more careful," she said in a gentle tone. "You haven't timelocked yourself yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if you came really close there." "No shit," he muttered, scowling at his glass. "Sorry, just stressed." "Oh, poor baby," Becky cooed, getting out of her seat and coming over to sit down next to Mark. She pulled him into lean on her and then rested his face between her opulent tits, knowing exactly the effect this would have on him. "Just relax, it's all fine now." Mark sighed and nuzzled into her tits, relaxing a little. His teacher's scent and her glorious softness had a calming effect on his frazzled nerves. "Uhd, we should go on vacation in some remote time for a year or so. I could use it." Becky giggled, stroking her fingers through her student's dark hair. "If only we could." "Well, why couldn't we?" Mark reasoned, still nuzzling and refusing to leave his nest. "We've got a time machine, don't we?" "Mark, a two-week vacation is one thing, but longer stretches are problematic." "Why?" Becky sighed and put down her wine, opting to just hold him while he nuzzled her boobs. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the sensation, after all. She knew that Mark, even though he was at least as experienced a time traveler as she was at this point, was still an eighteen-year-old boy, who had failed her Physics course. He just wasn't good at this stuff yet. But he took her with him readily, and she would have all the patience in the world until he caught up. If he ever did. "Mark, let's say you and I did indeed go on vacation for a year, somewhere in the time stream," she began, still stroking his wavy, dark hair. "And let's say we left tonight." "Sounds good, I'm in," Mark replied in a muffled tone. She smirked and continued. "And we come back after a year, to, say, an hour after we left, no one would notice, right?" "That's the beauty of it," he agreed, nodding in her boobs. "But we'd notice," she pointed out. We'd be a whole year older than when we left. When you got back, everyone would be trying to celebrate your nineteenth birthday, when, in reality, you're twenty. And you're the only one aside from me who knows it. Thanks to my captivity in the Louvre, I'm already a month older than our calendar indicates, so my birthday is technically inaccurate." He paused as he considered what she was saying. "And let's say, God forbid, that the time machine broke down somewhere in the past," she said, her voice taking on a serious tone. "Neither of us knows how to fix it, and there's absolutely no guarantee that we'd be able to find someone who could. What if it took the two of us five years to repair it, against all odds? We'd arrive back, an hour after we left, if we could, and everyone would notice we were magically five years older. I'd be thirty, you'd be twenty-three. We'd both look somewhat older, undoubtedly. How would we account for that?" Mark said nothing, just listening. "The only alternative would be to arrive five years in the future, to make up the difference, but then we've been AWOL with no explanation for five years," she continued. "Sure, maybe you can say you joined the merchant marines without a moment's notice, but what would I say?" She took his chin gently and turned his head to look up into her blue eyes. "We can't mess with the time stream and people's lives like that," she said quietly, almost sadly. "We're not from an era where time travel is the norm and people know what to expect." "You sure know how to take the fun out of time travel, Becks," he sighed, shaking his head. She giggled and cradled him in her bosom again, knowing he didn't mean it. "Silly," she cooed, jiggling her tits against his face a little. "You know better than anyone how much fun I can be in the time stream." "Yeah, that's true," Mark admitted, smiling and turning over on his back to look up at her while he lay in her lap. She was wearing black yoga pants, and a tight tank top and gave her impressive bust lots of breathing room. "But I really could use a little time away, to be honest. This nonsense stressed me out." "I'm sure it did, and hopefully you'll start thinking about these things ahead of time," she agreed, poking him in the nose. "In terms of what we could do, I have been giving the matter some thought." Mark raised an eyebrow. Becky never had bad ideas. Not compared to his, in any event. "I'm all ears." "Hardly," Becky giggled, reaching her hand down to gently cup his crotch beneath his jeans. "Let me explain first. You're not the only one with a predicament, although mine isn't necessarily self-inflicted." "Still listening," Mark said dryly, noticing the cheerful jibe. "It's difficult, being separated by three months the way we are," Becky said, caressing his cheek. "You, the Mark lying in my lap, you're from my upcoming summer. Me, I'm still waiting for the school year to finish. And three times a week, I see you in my classroom, and have to remind myself that the you sitting in that desk is not only still a minor, still, but has absolutely no idea about any of this." Mark said nothing, considering. "And I have to constantly be on guard, making sure I'm not sitting behind my desk, gazing at you dreamily in an off moment, or reminding myself not to sext you from the bathroom." "Damn, now I kinda wish you had," Mark mused, making her snicker. "Silly. What I'm saying, is that I think in the very near future, we'll need to not see each other for three months, as agonizing as that sounds, so that I can catch up with you." Mark screwed up his face as he thought about that. "That does sound sucky." "Oh, it won't be for you," Becky pointed out. "You get to hop on your time machine and return to three months from now, just like you always do every time we meet up. You won't even notice the difference. But you've also very tacitly avoided my future self for now, haven't you?" He nodded. "Yeah, you said to. Not that hard; it's a big city, and you told me where you tend to be at any given time, so it isn't much of a challenge." "Well, I want to catch up," Becky said firmly. "I want us to be on the same relative time frame, so that we don't need to worry about twists and so on, where things can go wrong. And if that means not seeing this you for three months," she whispered, placing her hand gently on his crotch, "and no time travelling for me because you've got the Holmes Field Device, then I'll manage. But it needs fixing, Mark." "Okay, done," Mark agreed, nodding. "But you mentioned something fun, which hasn't come up yet in this presentation so far." "Well," Becky began again. "I was thinking that we really should go and get Nanu and bring her forward with us. "It's not fair to leave her in that villa by herself. She doesn't really know how to look after herself, after all." "But we can keep visiting her," Mark pointed out. "She doesn't understand time travel, she'd hardly notice." "If we keep coming back to the same point in time to visit her, or at least within the same period frequently, it's true that little or no time will have passed for her," Becky said. "But we have our own lives, and goodness only knows when we'll have the time to pop out to Imperial Rome again. Years might pass for us before we can see her. How would we explain how much older we look to her?" "That again," Mark sighed, resenting the mathematical drudgery of time travel. "Yeah, that would freak her out. And as far as she's concerned, I'm still your slave, and she is too." "It's a notion I'll have to disabuse her of, once we bring her back here," Becky confirmed. "But I was thinking we'd have some fun when we go back and get her, and then she could stay with me. I'd spend our three months apart teaching her about our time and world, and when you meet us, we'd all be caught up together. Sound good?" "Well, I can't imagine it not being fun if you're around," Mark replied, grinning and sitting up, feeling considerably better after this talk with his teacher. "What're we gonna use to get the funds?" "Well," Becky said, making a cute show of thinking. "I've actually checked with that chroniques dealer? The one over on Adelaide that we were directed to?" "You've been busy!" Mark laughed, putting his arm around her shoulder. "I like to be prepared," she purred, snuggling into his side. "Anyway, I told him about my complete collection of Monchhichi minis that I inherited from my older cousin when I was young. Never did anything with 'em, because they just took up shelf space. But he's willing to give me a lot of money for them, apparently they're huge in the thirty-third century." "Well, of course they are," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "I; what the Hell are they, anyway? Never heard of 'em." "Oh, just collectible figurines from Japan in the Seventies, they look like cute little lolicon monkeys, along with a plushie toyline and several cartoons," she explained, waiving dismissively. "I couldn't care less about them, and if they make some person happy thirteen hundred years in the future, great. I'm getting lots of money for 'em." "Okay," Mark agreed, shrugging. "I was gonna sell my dad's Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots or Micronauts if we needed the geld. I'd probably get a good price on those, too." "You will," she confirmed. "But my lolicon monkeys are worth more, so we'll use them. So, we'll go see Nanu, tell her what's really up, have a lot of fun, spread my money around, and then bring her back. Sound good? I think two weeks of solid sucking and fucking should make you forget your woes." "I can hardly wait," Mark declared. "Why wait at all, big boy?" she purred again, as she undid his fly and bent her head down while fishing his cock out of his pants. Nanu sighed as she sat on the solium, kicking her legs back and forth slowly as she looked at the mosaic on the floor. It had been over a week now since she had seen anybody, let alone her mistress. As gorgeous as her surroundings were, this expansive villa hidden in the distant hills outside of mighty Rome, she was decidedly lonely. She'd never really spent any appreciable time by herself before Lady Aurora had purchased her from the Flavians. Despite her mistress' unwelcome absence, she found herself smiling as she thought of her. Lovely, lovely Lady Aurora Horatia; tall, with long, golden blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, sensuous lips that were always parted to show her white teeth and radiant smile. Her thoughts turned to the lady's other parts now, and she blushed. She thought of her mistress' lovely neck, supple shoulders, her large, perky bust, trim waist and glorious, tight ass. Nanu felt warm as she pictured Lady Aurora's cunt, which she kept smooth and clean; so unusual for a Roman patrician woman. She had long, strong dancer's legs, just like Nanu. She remembered how captivated she'd been while she watched Lady Aurora dance at the orgy. Bonosus. Lady Aurora's principal slave, and her lover. Dark, wavy hair, and deep brown eyes; he was unnaturally tall, at least to Nanu, with an athletic build, broad shoulders, and a small waist that was hard to the touch; and his cock was huge. It had felt like it was tearing Nanu apart when she rode on it with wild abandon. She came out of her reverie and looked around again, sighing forlornly. The villa was beautiful, with plastered walls covered in colorful frescoes, mosaic floors, indoor bathing chambers and toilets, beautiful gardens, a stream just behind the building, and all the delicious food she could eat. She had all the creature comforts any slave could ever want, but it was still quiet and lonely for her. She looked down at herself, using her fingers to pull slightly at the material of the top of the dress she wore. It was a spare garment, made of quality linen, one of several Lady Aurora had bought for Nanu from the Flavius family. Of course, the slave girl was thrilled beyond words to wear such a thing, and in all ways, she saw her ownership by Lady Aurora as a turning point in her life, the beginning of something wonderful beyond words. She and Bonosus were the luckiest slaves to ever live. But not if she was so very alone. Nanu, born into poverty in the tiny settlement of Akhmim in Egypt, the youngest of twelve children. Sold into slavery to the Flavians at a tender age to help feed her family, she'd lived a hard life, doing the most menial of tasks for the wealthy Roman family at their home in Tepihu, far up the Nile. But then they discovered she could dance, and dance well. She was sent to the principal Flavian household in distant Rome, a place she'd only ever heard of, and could never imagine. She danced for the patriarch and his wife, and they agreed to keep her on, as long as her legs held out. So Nanu danced relentlessly, determined to never return to the misery she'd known before. Within a year, she was the leader of the dancing girls the Flavians owned, and whatever jealousies the other girls might have held were quickly cast aside. Nanu understood that if she treated them all equally, she was more likely to prosper, rather than looking after only herself at their expense. She was lovers with all of them, and it wasn't long before she was fucking the lord and lady as well. Her position was as secure as a slave's could be under such circumstances. True, she was still punished, quite often for things beyond her control. But the Flavians were not overly harsh with her, having her flogged with short, thin reed brooms, to avoid scarring her. It hurt, and she cried, but she inevitably recovered, usually to be fucked by Master Flavius as she soon as she could walk. She left the chair and walked over to a small table, on which sat a highly polished silver mirror. She picked it up and looked at herself, pursing her lips, assessing her features. She'd always concluded that she was at least somewhat attractive, since men (and women) always wanted to fuck her. She was aware that being a highly trained dancer gave her a desirable physique for a slave, and her strong, taut muscles kept her cunt tight. Her tits were not overly large, but were pronounced from her torso, and jiggled when she danced or ran. She thought they swayed nicely when she walked. She had the creamy bronze skin of the people of the Black Lands, children of the pharaohs. Her thick hair was a glossy blue-black, and she kept it trimmed to just past her jaw, in the manner of women in her country. Her eyes were a warm hazel, with tawny flecks many of the other dancing girls described as bewitching and seductive. If only she could- "Well now, if it isn't everyone's favorite dancing slave," quipped a lyrical voice from nearby. Nanu's head snapped around and she cried out in delight as she espied Lady Aurora standing in the door nearby, with Bonuses just behind, looming over her and grinning. Nanu had been so wrapped up in looking at her reflection and feeling sorry for herself that she hadn't even heard them approach. "Mistress!" the Egyptian girl called out as she darted across the room and threw herself into Lady Aurora's waiting arms. "Magistra! How I Have Missed You!" "We've missed you too, Nanu," Becky said softly, hugging the shorter girl and kissing the top of her head while Nanu burst into tears. "I'm sorry we were away for so long." "It felt like forever, mistress, I won't lie," Nanu said, choking back her sobs before pressing her mouth to Becky's and kissing her fiercely. Becky returned the kiss gladly, and the women greeted one another with tangling tongues and wandering hands for nearly a minute before they needed to breathe. Nanu looked up at Becky now, her eyes still wide and wet with emotion. "May I; may I say hello to Bonosus, mistress?" "I'm pretty sure he's counting on it," Becky said, stepping aside and giggling as Nanu flung herself against Mark, kissing him feverishly, but with her hands predictably snaking down his frame and under his tunic to fondle his cock. "Goodness, girl, did those toys I left get no love from you in my absence?" "Oh, mistress, they got loved day and night," Nanu replied, turning to look at Becky since she was being addressed. "But I do not need to tell you that it is hardly the same as the real thing, as to have a real lover. And I am sorry if it makes me sound deficient, but; I am not good at being alone. I am not at all used to it." "Oh, I'm sorry, darling," Becky said as Mark picked Nanu up in his arms and carried her back into the room. Nanu had her arms around his neck, and seemed to be in absolute heaven, now that the two most important people in her life had returned. "But we're back now, and we have no intention of leaving you behind again." Nanu looked curious. "Won't leave me behind again; are we going somewhere, mistress? Are we to leave the villa?" "It will take some explaining, I promise you that," Becky answered, nodding. "But first, I think the three of us should fuck one another stupid all over the villa, don't you?" Nanu's face lit up at her mistress' suggestion and she nodded eagerly. "Yes, mistress! I want to fuck you both until I cannot see or walk straight!" Becky made a grand gesture with her hand, taking in the whole villa. "Then you may pick where we fuck, my love. Anywhere, as much as you please. We await your pleasure." Nanu looked around in almost breathless excitement as Mark put her down. She didn't know where to begin, only that she wanted to fuck Mistress Aurora and Bonosus in every single area of the villa. She'd been so glum that she barely noticed how horny she was. Now the rampant feelings of lust washed over her, and her cunt was shamefully wet. She grabbed Becky's hand and pulled her excitedly along through the house. "This way!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation. "I want us to bathe and fuck!" Becky and Mark laughed as they followed the Egyptian girl into the small antechamber in front of the sudatorium, which Mark and Becky would normally identify as a sauna. They were amazed at the speed with which Nanu had not only removed her own clothes, but also undressed the two of them. Clearly she was in great need and had no intention of waiting. She had apparently lit the fire to heat the small room earlier in the day, for her own use, and now all she had to do was scrub the three of them down before bringing them inside. With a small sponge and rough linen cloths, she did this quickly. She then brought them into the sweat room, which was filled with steam already. Rocks in the little containment chamber over the brazier heated water and caused the steam, while small pouches of herbs hung over the rocks, and wine dripped through them to sizzle and evaporate, giving the steam a heady, aromatic quality that often left guests somewhat drunk. The three now stretched out on the wooden benches that lined the wall, sighing and relaxing for a moment before Nanu's eagerness overtook her. She crawled on top of Becky and kissed her deeply, squirming her body down into her mistress' while they fondled one another. Mark watched on lazily, knowing that the day was young, and it was best that he conserve his strength. Keeping up with Nanu's libido was no small task, not to mention Becky's once she got going. It wasn't long before the two girls were locked in a slippery, trembling sixty-nine, moaning as they lapped at one another's twats and fingered each other's puckered knots. Nanu came so hard she almost shrieked inside Becky's cunt, while the blonde goddess shuddered and speared her tongue deep inside her lover as she came, glazing Nanu's face with her cum. Both girls seemed almost to become puddles, sighing languidly as they lay together, bodies shining with sweat. Through the haze of steam, Mark could see them kissing one another's pussies gently, and the look on Nanu's face could only be described as rapture, mixed with a sense of relief and contentment. She was so happy her mistress had come back to her. But Nanu recovered quickly, turning her head to look at her fellow 'slave', whom she knew as Bonosus. Mark was lying on his side on the bench he occupied, idly stroking his cock. Nanu had already focused on his manhood like an arrow, and managed to extricate herself from Becky without disturbing her mistress' bliss, and crawled across the tile floor on all fours, her hazel eyes glinting. Without waiting, she knelt next to him, moved Mark's hand aside, and took his cock into her grip. She began stroking slowly and gently, before leaning in to kiss the swelling tool lovingly. She swirled her tongue around the head, then up and down the hardening shaft several times, her hand following her tongue. Then she popped her mouth around the head and slowly pushed down, humming as she moved wetly down his length. Mark sighed in pleasure and began running his hand through her raven hair. Becky now watched, caressing her creamy cunt as she gazed over at the lovers. Mark was half on his back, half on his side, while Nanu was kneeling on the floor, bent over and bobbing up and down on his stiff cock. Her tiny hand made a gentle twisting motion on the smooth skin of his shaft, following her warm, wet mouth. Becky smiled, knowing how great it was to give her student head, since she'd done it countless times herself now. Things would be so much easier for them all when she finally caught up with him in the timeline. Mark stroked down Nanu's back and reached her ass, giving one of the tight, perk cheeks a squeeze before nudging her. Nanu took the hint readily and stood up, clambering over Mark's face and looking down his body. The bench wouldn't have been big enough for Mark and Becky to do what was now happening, but Nanu was considerably smaller than Becky, and somehow managed. She leaned down his body, crying out suddenly as Mark pulled her ass cheeks apart and slid his tongue around her gooey cunt. She trembled and squirmed for several moments before composing herself and returning to the task of sucking on his cock hungrily. He was at full mast now, and Nanu's tiny hand could hardly fit around the girth of his shaft. Amazingly, though, she could take his manhood all the way inside her mouth, and down her throat readily. Becky's slave was as gifted as she was shameless, clearly. Nanu grunted as Mark slid one of his fingers inside her ass. Mark had larger hands than most people from her home era, and his finger was larger than some dicks she'd had back there before. Or at least, it certainly felt that way at the moment. She accepted the intrusion willingly, squirming back against his hand, and squeezing her tight tunnel around it while he massaged her cunt and clit with her tongue. She let out little moans, still bobbing up and down while giving Becky a sidelong look with heavily lidded, glazed eyes. Determined to not be left out, Becky slowly rose from her bench and wiggled over across the small area. She observed the setting with a critical eye for several moments, working out the logistics of how to best fit into this carnal puzzle. Just like she could not readily engage in a sixty-nine with Mark on these relatively (to them) narrow benches, she could not straddle him and fuck him to proper effect either. The answer presented itself quickly. She eased Nanu up into a sitting position over Mark's face, and if the slave girl was disappointed in having to relinquish that delicious cock, the feeling quickly gave way to yelps of delight as she sank her cunt even further down onto Mark's tongue, squirming and grinding lustily. Becky pumped and stroked Mark's cock steadily for several seconds, making sure he would stay hard. He was lying down the length of the bench, his tool ramrod-erect for her. She then stood and moved over his midsection, facing out into the tiny chamber. She bent her knees and reached under, steadying his throbbing cock while she guided it to her cuntlips. One she had him in place, she slowly sat down, sighing as he pushed up inside her steaming depths. Her ass come to rest on his hips, while she sat sideways on him, pinned to his cock. She closed her eyes and just savored the sensation for several seconds, her fingers flexing against his stomach and his knee, respectively. She finally opened her blue eyes and turned her head to smile at Nanu, who was moving up and down slowly on Mark's tireless tongue. Becky leaned in toward the slave, who immediately moved her torso forward to meet Becky. They kissed over Mark's long form, tongues tangling while Becky began to move up and down slowly, loving the feel of this unique position with him deep inside her. The threesome slowly squirmed and undulated against one another, time lost within the confines of the tiny, steaming chamber. The dim, amber light of the fire beneath the heated stones was their only illumination, but in this misty, ethereal sitting, it was utter perfection. The scent of spiced wine mingled with the aromas of bodies making love. Becky could taste the wine in Nanu's sweat as she drew her tongue along the girl's collarbone and over her tits. "I think it's about time for you to fuck Nanu and cum in her, Mark," Becky panted after several minutes of churning up and down on his thick rod. She was massaging and groping her tits, or Nanu's as she rode. The Egyptian girl had reached forward and was massaging her mistress' cunt dutifully as well. "It's been a few weeks for her, and you just filled me up this morning." "Relatively speaking," Mark quipped from beneath Nanu's writhing hips. "You sit on the bench and spread 'em, Becks, and she can kneel and lick you. I'll get behind her." Becky had no problem with this plan, and quickly coaxed Nanu off Mark's face, to kneel on the floor in front of her. Nanu's eyes widened with delight as Becky smiled and parted her legs, before reaching down with two fingers to spread her thick nether lips wide, exposing her glistening inner pink to the slave girl. Nanu practically dived in, and Becky grunted and almost jumped, clasping the girl's head suddenly, her feet leaving the floor. "Nuh, fuck!" she wheezed as Nanu began lapping at her like she was eating her last meal before she died. Her fingers gripped Nanu's black hair while she began grinding her snatch against the girl's face desperately. Nanu licked cunt like nobody's business. Mark, meanwhile, had positioned himself behind Nanu, and lined his cock up with her dripping twat, holding her by the ass cheeks. Nanu trembled while he slid his cockhead up and down her slippery lips, and against her tingling clit, making her squeak and whimper into Becky's cunt. He braced her for only the briefest of moments before sliding inside her without any warning, sinking in to the hilt. The Egyptian slave-girl wailed in ecstasy as he forced her wide, pinning her to him. Mark began fucking Nanu with a steady, strong pace, and she yelped into her mistress' cunt with each thrust, even while lapping at her pink twat hungrily. Her face was shining with sweat, and Becky's wetness, her tongue thick with the cloying sweetness of the blonde woman. Nanu's head was spinning in delight. Surely this was the heavenly afterlife? Becky almost curled up on herself, her fingernails threatening to leave grooves in Nanu's scalp as she shook uncontrollably and came, barely able to keep herself from screeching. She slathered Nanu's face in her essence, her entire body tingling with fire. Nanu shuddered and writhed, wailing as she came, her cunt tightening around Mark's cock fiendishly. As if on cue, Mark arched his back, gritted his teeth and growled, pumping all his cum inside Nanu, thrusting strongly. The trio rocked and writhed in depraved unison for close to a minute before Mark leaned forward on Nanu's back, breathing heavily. Becky sighed in exhaustion, sinking down on the bench, her cunt pressing into Nanu's face. The slave girl, pinned in place between her mistress and her fellow slave, simply held still, surrounded by warm, slick flesh and gently caressing fingers. She could still feel Bonosus throbbing deep inside her, and her mistress' cunt oozed against her mouth. She felt so blessed and safe like this. But then she looked up from between Becky's legs, her own glinting with eagerness. "Come! I know where we need to fuck next!" And with that, the Egyptian girl extricated herself from between them and wiggled quickly out of the room. Mark groaned and sagged forward between Becky's tits, and she held onto him wearily. "Now I know why we can't leave her for weeks on end," he mumbled in her cleavage. "Because we won't survive the backlog of fucking we need to do;” Nanu was sitting in the chair, her expression one of bewilderment. She seemed to have forgotten the goblet of wine in her hand, and she sat with her arms and legs tucked in close to her body. Clearly, she was confused and feeling uncertain about what she was hearing. "You're; mistress, you're not a Roman at all?" she asked quietly as she stared at Becky. They were sitting in the atrium of the villa, and it was a quiet evening. Birds sang, and a gentle breeze caressed their faces and the nearby blossoms as it dipped over the villa and into the central opening. Becky shook her head, knowing that this was going to take a lot of patience on her and Mark's part; and even more on Nanu's. Everything she was in the process of telling the girl would sound completely preposterous, even more so than Mark's explanation to his sister the day before. "No, Nanu, I'm not a Roman of any sort," the blonde woman confessed, trying to smile. "And my name is not Aurora Horatia. My name is Rebecca." "Rebekah?" Nanu queried, making a wry face. "That is a Hebrew name." She looked Becky up and down skeptically. "You don't look like a Hebrew." The slave girl looked at Mark. "And your name is not Bonosus, and you're not a Roman either?" He shook his head. "Nope. I'm Mark. And Becks is actually my teacher." Nanu squeezed her eyes shut for several seconds and when she finally opened them, they were filled with worry. "Are; are you going to kill me?" Despite herself, Becky burst into giggle fits at the question. Nanu looked confused, and then slightly irked at the response from her 'mistress'. She thought it was a perfectly reasonable question, under these circumstances. She folded her arms, crossed her legs, and looked off at the sky over the far wall, annoyed. "I'm sorry, Nanu," Becky said finally reining herself in. "I wasn't laughing at you, I mean it. It just wasn't what I expected to hear at all, and we both love you too much to ever consider killing you. Hell, I'm not sure we could if we tried." "Well I don't know what to believe," sniffed the younger girl. "You've bought me, and taken me away from a comfortable, if not happy life, and nearly gotten me killed at least once, and then there was that; thing; that you two ride around on;” "The Holmes Field Device," Becky said, nodding. "It doesn't just take us where we want to go, it allows us to travel through time, which is why we are here at all." Nanu shook her head, indicating that she had no idea what Becky meant. The teacher leaned forward slightly, smiling. They weren't sitting that far apart, but she had allowed for a small amount of distance between them, so that Nanu didn't feel trapped or pressured if she took all this poorly. To be honest, she was taking it surprisingly well, even if she wasn't buying all of it. "Nanu, I apologize for asking simple questions, but please bear with me;” she said quietly, noticing that even if she was listening, Nanu was now staring at Becky's cleavage, framed between her arms while she sat forward. Mark was staring too. Some thing would never change. "You understand the concepts of yesterday, today and tomorrow, yes?" Nanu nodded slowly. "Yes, mistress." "Do you ever wish you could visit days that have gone by?" Becky asked. "Like maybe go back and visit your childhood, or meet some member of your family who was lost years ago? Or even see the Sphinx getting built?" The girl looked confused again. "Suh-finx?" Becky looked at Mark, hoping for some help. He still had the chip that let him speak Egyptian in his head. He pondered the issue for a moment before the tiny computer in his noggin gave him the answer. He looked at Nanu and smiled. "Horemakhet." Nanu's eyes went wide. To see the Horus of the Western Horizon being built by the gods. She shook her head. "What you say is impossible!" Becky smiled now, not blaming Nunu for her disbelief. "Nanu, a long time ago, people would have thought that chariots were impossible, that mastering fire and steel were impossible. But you know they're not just possible, you know that these things are fact." Nanu nodded, willing to listen to her beloved mistress, who apparently wasn't her mistress. But she listened. "Mark and I come from many, many tomorrows away, a time many years from now. That device that we travel on, it allows us to do it." The Egyptian girl screwed up her face, trying to understand. She thought she'd heard outlandish things in her life before, but this was so far beyond her conceptions and experience that it sounded like a ridiculous fable her grandmother would tell her. But she had stepped on the wondrous device, and it had taken them somewhere far away from Rome in the blink of an eye, and back. She could not deny this had happened, even if she didn't understand it. Which brought up a big question for her. "Why do you do this?" she queried, looking at each of them. Mark shrugged. "It's fun to move through time and do things." Another skeptical look from Nanu. "You think it's fun to have the gladiators of Rome try to kill you?" Mark faltered slightly. "I; well, no, not that part." Becky giggled. "No, Nanu, that part is unplanned. Mark and I like to travel to different times, to see important events, and to fuck there." Nanu tilted her head curiously at the statement. "What it so important about fucking in these places?" Becky considered her answer. "There's nothing important about it, you're right. But it's still fun. We love to do these things, because almost no one else can. And hopefully it's exciting but not dangerous. If we didn't do this, we never would have met you, and we wouldn't be fucking you now. And we both wouldn't be crazy about you." Nanu's stomach was in her feet as she thought about what her mis; what Rebekah was saying. She was horrified by the thought now that she might never have met them, they she might not have been bought, or living here, in freedom, and getting fucked to her little heart's content. "But if you are not; not from today;” she murmured, trying to formulate her thoughts around these strange concepts. "Then you will keep leaving me. You might come back, but you will keep leaving." Becky could see the tears welling in Nanu's eyes, and she rose from her chair and moved to sit with the smaller girl, cradling her into her bosom as Nanu tried not to cry. "Oh, Nanu, I'm sorry," she cooed. "I didn't realize how hard it was for you to be alone." "I've never been alone," sniffled the raven-haired girl, wrapping her arms around Becky's waist tightly, unwilling to let go. "My whole life, I've never been alone for so much as a day, never mind a week. It was terrifying. I'm a slave, you know." Becky caressed her fingers through Nanu's hair and kissed the top of her said. "I understand now. And I am sorry. But Mark and I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." Nanu choked back a sob and looked up at Becky, ready to hear what she had to say. "Mark and I want to bring you with us," Becky explained, using a thumb to wipe some tears from Nanu's cheek. "Come back to our time, and perhaps take you with us on our adventures." Nanu's eyes went wide. "L; leave Rome?" Becky shrugged. "Is there anyone left for you to care about?" "Well, no." Nanu admitted. "And as I've already told you, Mark and I are crazy about you, so since we cannot stay here in Rome with you, maybe you should come with us, Becky continued. "I love having you around." Nanu's face lit up at Becky's words, but then a cloud passed over her face as things occurred to her. "But I; know nothing about this place you are from. How would I live?" "Well I would teach you, of course," Becky replied, smiling. "And it'll probably be terrifying at first, since you will see things you cannot even imagine, but Mark and I will protect you and help you learn." "I; would stay with you?" Nanu asked in a voice begging for assurance. Becky nodded. "You won't leave me alone?" The blonde woman smiled. "Well, I might have to step out the door once in a while to go and get food, or go to my job, but I won't leave you alone for days at a time, I promise." Nanu returned to hugging Becky, looking off at the far wall across the atrium. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she thought about what she should do. Did she take these two up on their weird offer? Did she just ask to stay here at the villa, and take her chances about when they could visit? Did she ask to be sent back to the Flavius household? Every option terrified her. She finally looked up at Becky again and drew a deep breath. "Can we; fuck some more, while I think about it?" Becky and Mark both laughed and nodded their assent. It was the most Nanu thing Nanu had ever said. Predictably, Nanu, after much fucking and pondering, had decided to take Mark and Becky up on their offer. Delighted, Becky had declared that they would be doing some shopping first, heading into Rome to get things she wanted. Nanu was always happy to visit the city, she was always enthralled by the sights and sounds around her. "But I; I must point out something," she confessed, looking uneasy. "I know you keep saying that I need not be your slave anymore, but it is not safe for me to walk around freely, Mistress, no matter what you tell me. If you say you don't own me, I am still a slave to them. They'll put me in chains and have me on the auction block again in no time, but probably not before they do awful things to me." "She has a point, Becks," Mark started, shrugging as he fastened his tunic in place. "We may know slavery is immoral, but Rome doesn't give a shit. As far as they're concerned, you're still a patrician woman, and we're still your slaves." "Which brings up another troublesome fact," Becky sighed, building on Mark's premise. "You're the most hated individual in Rome. You defiled a Vestal Virgin;” "Pervert," Nanu said in a low voice, nudging Mark. "You made a mockery of the legal system, and turned the Colosseum into a sexual freak show. I wouldn't be surprised if every soldier in Rome had orders to skewer you on sight." "Hey, I'm not the one who dropped a giant canvas sail on the emperor's head and wiggled my tits at seventy thousand people, you know!" Mark protested. "Well, that part was fun," Becky mused, smirking, lapsing into English for a moment. "So what do we do? I want to go shopping, but without getting you killed." "Yeah, you've got a point there," Mark allowed, looking at the ground as he pondered the issue. Nanu looked back and forth between them as they spoke in their unintelligible gibberish. "Well, we either need a disguise for me, so I don't look like Bonosus anymore, or we need to jump back a few days to before we arrived, and before anyone would know us." "More of your time twists," Becky chided, holding up a finger. "Didn't you learn?" "I know what you mean, but I kinda think we did that," Mark replied. "Don't you remember how you said people were waving at you like they knew you already, and you thought that was weird? That maybe they'd mistaken you for someone else? It's kinda unlikely that they are mistaking you for anyone, Becks. You're as tall as most of the men, and you're like a living embodiment of Venus to them, with blonde hair." "I'm afraid you may be right," Becky sighed, not liking the hypothesis, but forced to admit it was probably accurate. "So we go back maybe a week before we first arrived, do our shopping, and split?" Mark turned and looked at Nanu now. "Nanu, have you been into the city of Rome any time in the last week before you met us? Or anyone from the Flavius household?" "Ooh, good catch, Mark," Becky mentioned, nodding. "Can't have her running into herself by accident, no matter how unlikely." Nanu considered for a moment and then shook her head. "No, before you arrived, it had been more than a month, I think. Master Flavius resented paying the prices they wanted in the city, he usually made us shop in Lavinium, it was cheaper." Mark shrugged. "We could probably do your shopping and find some fun, Becks. Then we'll plan our next move. Sound good?" Becky removed her outfit, letting pool around her feet before sitting down in a low chair. She held out her arms, beckoning for Nanu to join her. The Egyptian girl shed her clothing, and then went to sit naked in her blonde lover's lap, their lovely tits squashing together. They kissed for some moments before Becky smiled at Nanu. "I want to buy you some outfits, Nanu, outfits like I wear. Would you like to dress and look like mistress?" It seemed as though Nanu might faint. Becky was also pretty sure she felt the girl getting wet. She giggled and kissed Nanu's nose. "I'll take that as a yes." Rome. The litter glided through the crowded street, with people dutifully making way for it; whomever was inside was clearly important. The four dark-skinned slaves bearing it on their shoulders walked along silently, seemingly not bothered by the weight within. The litter itself was simple in design, but ornate in appearance, the canopy held aloft on carved poles, and much of it decorated with gold leaf or edging. Diaphanous curtains on all sides obscured the women within. Becky and Nanu lay on their sides, facing in toward one another. Nanu was wearing a beautiful stola, just like Becky, and she gazed down at her raiment in wonder, running a hand delicately over the fabric. Becky smiled as she watched the Egyptian girl while reaching into a bowl between them and putting a grape in her mouth. "Mistress, this is wonderful," Nanu whispered, knowing to not refer to Becky as her mistress too loudly. "I've never felt anything like this in my life, except on someone else." "Well, it's yours, and yours alone, so enjoy it," Becky said cheerfully, enjoying Nanu's elation. She put another grape between her teeth and smiled slyly. Nanu leaned in and took the grape between her own teeth, their lips touching. As Nanu masticated on the grape, Becky opened the gauze-like drapes in the back if the litter and called out gently. "How we doing back there, Mark?" "Oh, just fine, thanks so very much for asking," muttered the student-slave, who trudged along behind the litter, carrying several handbags made of linen and animal skins, filled with shopping goods. His hands and shoulders ached. How the Hell could Becky purchase so much shit in an era that didn't have electronics? "How much farther we got?" "Not too much longer, I think," mused the blonde teacher casually. She wasn't too worried about Mark having to carry stuff, he'd been through worse recently. She'd bought outfits and jewelry, pretty house furnishings, and other curios to take home. She considered what she'd need to buy for Nanu upon their return. Clothes aside, she would somehow need to procure ID for her, some sorts of medical records, and so forth. How did she get any of that done? "Will I like my new life, mistress?" Nanu asked, eating another grape. "I am sure I will love living with you, but;” Becky smiled and caressed her face lovingly. "It will be very, very different, Nanu. And at times it will seem frightening. But there are so many things I cannot wait to show you." "Then I will wait and trust you," the Egyptian girl said softly, giving herself over to her mistress' carefully in her mind. "Because I believe you when you say you love me and want the best for me." Nanu was silent for some time, as if deep in thought. "What's on your mind, darling?" Becky asked, curious. Nanu sighed. "I just miss my family. I have not seen them since I was young. And I dreamed of returning to them one day." Becky smiled. "Oh, you want t

Pdt. Wigand Sugandi (TB) Lukas 17 : 26-2817:26 Dan sama seperti terjadi pada zaman Nuh, demikian pulalah halnya kelak pada hari-hari Anak Manusia: 17:27 mereka makan dan minum, mereka kawin dan dikawinkan, sampai kepada hari Nuh masuk ke dalam bahtera, lalu datanglah air bah dan membinasakan mereka semua. 17:28 Demikian juga seperti yang terjadi di zaman Lot: mereka makan dan minum, mereka membeli dan menjual, mereka menanam dan membangun. 

Tank throws out some wild facts, and it’s up to Scotch and Mandy to decide: is it North Dakota… or Nuh? From quirky laws to prairie legends, this game keeps everyone guessing—and laughing. Play along and see if you know your Dakota details better than the Froggy 99.9 crew!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Looking for more game-play.Based on a post  by a u guy86, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time. The entire walk home, Ashley was smiling like a little girl on Christmas morning, holding Michael's arm and walking as close to him as she could. Michael, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Antonio's advice for him to be his normal dorky self had worked, but had it worked too well? Questions began to race through his mind. What if she invited him in? What if she invited him to bed with her? How would she react when he told her of his lack of experience? If she did want to sleep with him, he didn't dare try to hide the fact that he was a virgin; no way would that end well. Sighing mentally, he decided he'd just have to play it by ear and hope for the best.“I… had such a great time with you,” Michael said as they approached her door.“Me too,” Ashley agreed. “And… well, it's still kinda early.”“Uh… y-yeah?”Throwing caution to the wind, Ashley leaned forward and planted a long and sensuous kiss on Michael's lips. By the end of it, her tongue had found his for the first time, to both of their delights.“Why don't you come in and stay a while?” she asked as they parted.“But… wouldn't Liz mind?”“Liz already told me she'll be gone ‘til tomorrow. We have the place to ourselves.” Sensing his hesitation, she continued, “Michael, believe me when I say that I swore at the start of the night this wouldn't happen. No matter how well tonight went… I had no intention of inviting you in after one date. Yet, here we are, and I don't want the night to end. No pressure, no expectations, I just… I want to spend more time with you. I mean, it is Valentine's Day, after all, and I do consider you my Valentine.”“Now who's the cheesy one?” Michael laughed. “I'd love to spend more time with you tonight, but only if you're sure.”Another peck on the lips, and Ashley said, “Positive.”Taking Michael's hand, Ashley practically dragged him into the apartment and locked the deadbolt behind her. She then took Michael's suit jacket from him, hanging it on the back of a chair at the breakfast nook. Before long, she had kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the sofa.“Come on,” Ashley beckoned, patting the seat next to her. “I don't bite.”Michael smirked at this, discarding his own shoes and loosening his tie a bit. As soon as his ass touched the sofa cushion, Ashley was already hanging on him, running her fingers through his hair and moving her hand to his thigh. Still, he tried to play it cool and have no assumptions about her intentions.“Did… you wanna watch a movie or something?” Michael asked.Smiling, Ashley gave a few playful kisses to Michael's cheek before replying, “Is that really what you want us to do tonight?”“I… I-I um…”Michael was slowly losing control of his mental capabilities, and Ashley damn well knew it. After he had driven her crazy on the dance floor, seducing her without even realizing it, she was determined to do the same. Turning up the heat, she leaned closer to Michael and kissed his lips longingly. He was powerless to stop her as she pushed him to lie back long ways on the sofa. The feeling of her lithe body on top of his was almost too much to bear.“Ashley…” he moaned.Looking deep into his eyes, she said, “Michael, I can't tell you how into you I am. I know this sounds insane, and I don't want you to think I'm slutty or anything, but… I want you to stay the night. Unless you absolutely don't want to, I have no intention of letting you leave until tomorrow.”Michael's face twisted a bit at this. “Of course I want to be here with you! But why would you think I'd think you're slutty?”Snorting a bit, Ashley replied, “Come on, Michael. Here I am, throwing myself at you after one date. How is that not slutty?”Maintaining eye contact, he asked, “Do you respect yourself and your standards?”“Of course! I would never even consider inviting a guy in or certainly sleeping with him under normal circumstances.”“And what makes you consider doing that?”“Basically… he has to be boyfriend material. I mean… look, I'm gonna be honest with you, Michael. I've been pretty stupid around men in the past, sleeping with them while knowing they aren't even close to being boyfriend material. I guess I thought I could change them. Like I said, I was stupid back then. But now, I know I have to fall for a guy because of who and what he is before I'd even think of sleeping with him. I don't just hop into bed with any guy I meet, not anymore.”Michael grinned. “Sounds like the opposite of slutty to me.”Kissing him once more, Ashley replied, “You sure know how to pay a girl a compliment. You sure you're not the one seducing me?”“Hey, you're the one who called me ‘boyfriend material' a moment ago.”“I certainly did not call you boyfriend material!” Ashley said, feigning offense. “I merely stated that any man I'd consider sleeping with had to fall into that category. Nothing more.”“Gotcha. So I'm not boyfriend material,” Michael replied with a smartass grin.“You know damn well you are,” Ashley sighed, running her fingers along his cheek. “Most genuine guy I've ever met.”“After one date?” Michael asked, still a bit in awe of the situation.“Michael, you weren't afraid to be yourself out there, even with the real you being a big dork. To me, there's nothing more attractive than that sort of confidence. It makes me want to make you my big dork, and nobody else's.” Kissing him again, Ashley began to grind her hips along his obvious erection. “Hmm, something's got you going down there, eh?”Panicking a moment at how quickly things were progressing, Michael managed to pull back. “Ashley, wait. There's… there's something you deserve to know before we go any further.”“Aw, is this your first time?” she asked playfully. Though she had been teasing, the look of terror spread across his face told her the truth. “Oh my god… this really is your first time, isn't it?”“Yeah,” he sighed, bracing for the worst.“That's… fantastic!”“Wait, what?”“Michael, you have no idea how nerve-wracking it is for us gals, trying to figure out if a guy is for real or not. So many guys are out to use any trick in the book to get into our panties. But the one trick those guys don't use is the virgin trick; no guy I've ever met would lie about being a virgin. There's plenty that would lie about not being a virgin, but never the other way around. Hearing you say that… it's comforting, in a way. I know you'd never try to trick me or anything like that, if that makes any sense.”“So… you're not gonna kick me out?” Michael asked.“Hell no.” Remembering his religious upbringing, Ashley continued, “Listen, I don't ever want to pressure you into something that you aren't comfortable with or that you'd feel wrong about. If you need to leave, I'm cool with that; I'd still want to see you again. If all you want to do is sleep, that's perfectly fine, too. But if you're interested in turning in your V-card… I'm more than willing.”Michael's mouth dried up at this. He didn't necessarily share his parents' views that sex should only occur within a marriage. Still, he had always known he only wanted to lose his virginity to someone special, someone that he could trust implicitly. Was Ashley that person? A small part of him was still terrified that this might be a setup, but the look in Ashley's eyes was slowly eroding that fear. He wanted to trust her, no matter how much the logical side of his brain told him not to. Taking a deep breath, Michael Goldman decided to take a leap of faith.“I want to.”Without a word, Ashley stood from the sofa and pulled Michael to his feet, leading him to her bedroom. A pair of blue lava lamps in either corner emitted a soft glow, and the décor reflected Ashley's true gamer girl personality. A pair of plush toys, Pikachu and Yoshi, stood guard atop her bed, her computer screensaver depicted Princess Peach and Princess Daisy, and her TV in the corner had both a Super Nintendo and a N64 plugged into it.“Retro. Very nice,” Michael remarked, nodding his approval.“Sometimes, the old ways are best,” Ashley agreed with a smirk. Melting into his arms once more, she turned her back and held her hair aside, beckoning, “Unzip me, please.”Michael's hands trembled as he lowered the zipper down to the small of her back. The mere sight of her exposed skin was enough to bring him dangerously close to blowing his top right then and there, but a few deep breaths managed to calm him down. He fumbled for several seconds with the clasp at the top of the dress, but Ashley showed no signs of impatience; they had all the time they needed, after all. At last, he managed to unhook the clasp, and Ashley allowed the red dress to slide off her body and down to the floor. She turned, now clad only in a white strapless bra and matching panties.“I'll teach you more about how to get one of these off another time,” Ashley cooed. “But for now…”In one swift motion, she reached behind her back with one hand and undid her bra clasp. She was still pressed against Michael's chest, holding the garment in place for the time being, much to his disappointment. Ashley only grinned as she backed up out of his arms, holding the bra in place with her hands for a few moments longer.“Oh, come on…” Michael whimpered.“Poor boy,” Ashley teased. “Remember, anticipation is a huge part of foreplay.”“Anticipation or torture?”“Amazing how often those two coincide,” Ashley shot back with a giggle.Deciding Michael had waited long enough, Ashley lowered her arm and allowed the bra to fall to the floor. Michael stared in awe at her perky tits, high and firm on her chest. He certainly wasn't an expert, but they appeared to be about a B-cup, and her nipples were already rock hard, beckoning him to touch them. The rest of her body was just as amazing. Her milky skin contained not a single speck or blemish, save for the tattoo on her shoulder, and that only served to accentuate her beauty. He moved forward, reaching for her tits, but Ashley slapped his hands away.“Nuh uh,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “You don't get to touch until I see some of what you've got.”Ashley reached for Michael's clothes to try and speed the process along, but was soon stumped by his tie. Michael found this quite amusing, considering the difficulty men notoriously had with bras. He undid the knot and tossed the tie on the floor, beginning to unbutton his white dress shirt. At this point, Ashley just stood back and watched, as Michael had done with her. After he removed his dress shirt and undershirt, Ashley's eyes widened with lust and desire. As much as she wanted to jump his bones then and there, she managed to restrain herself. It was only fair, after her previous denial of his touch. Michael was clearly nervous as he undid his belt and lowered his suit pants. His boxers were tented from his erection and already stained with a bit of his precum, which Ashley took as a massive compliment.“Very nice,” she whispered in a husky voice.“Thanks,” Michael replied with a nervous grin.Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, she continued, “Time for the big reveal, then?”With a seductive grin on her face, Ashley began to lower the garment down her legs, her tits jiggling as she bent over to kick them off. Michael was frozen in place with sheer amazement at the sight before him. Here he was, in the presence of the most gorgeous girl he had ever imagined, naked as the day she was born. Her shaved cunt looked so warm and inviting; how he ached to feel her wrapped around him. After allowing him a moment to stare, she sauntered up to him and slipped her fingers into his boxers.“May I?” Ashley asked.All Michael could do was nod at that point, and Ashley planted her lips on his as she allowed his boxers to fall to the floor. She smiled as she took his member in her hand, feeling that he was indeed packing substantial weaponry. Ashley soon remembered that this was Michael's first time; it would be all he could manage not to go off too soon. She stopped her teasing for the moment and turned to her double bed. After slipping underneath the covers, she patted the spot next to her, which Michael readily occupied.They spent the next several minutes kissing and exploring each other's bodies with their hands and mouths. Michael was pleased to discover that Ashley's tits were indeed quite firm, fitting perfectly in his hands. As wonderful as feeling them was, he enjoyed tasting them even more, and especially the reactions this brought about from Ashley. All the while, she allowed her own hands to explore Michael's body. She found a particularly strong erogenous zone at the back of his neck where his hairline began. Soon, neither could stand it any longer; they had to make love.“Michael,” Ashley whispered, “I can see in your eyes that you're worried about performance. Don't be. You've already made this night more special than I ever imagined it could be. Just enjoy for as long as it may last.”“But-”“Trust me,” she continued, silencing him with a kiss. “This is only the first of many times we're going to do this.”As Ashley pushed him onto his back and straddled him, Michael had the presence of mind to ask, “Do we need any… protection?”Ashley stopped at this, stunned by his kind consideration. “Michael, you really are the best kind of guy around. You don't have to worry about me getting pregnant; I'm on the pill. I'm also clean per my last doctor's visit, but if you'd feel more comfortable with a condom, I'm happy to oblige. I keep a few spares in my nightstand.”Though the logical part of his brain told him to agree to it, Michael couldn't help but put his faith in this girl. “No, that's all right. I trust you're being honest. Just wanted to be sure.”Ashley sealed her lips around Michael's once more, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance as she did so. After a moment of silent understanding, he placed his hands on her hips and guided himself into her moist cunt. The feelings were exquisite, like liquid velvet squeezing his member. She made sure to keep a slow pace, allowing Michael to savor every new sensation that came along. After arriving at the base of his cock, Ashley sat straight up, displaying her pert tits for her lover.“Holy shit, Ashley…” Michael moaned.“You're mine, now,” she giggled. “And I don't plan on letting go of you anytime soon…”“No complaints from me,” he admitted with a grin.For the next five minutes, Ashley treated Michael to the ride of his life, teasing and tormenting his engorged cock with every inch of her cunt. She was pleasantly surprised to see that he was able to last so long on his first time, long enough even for her to reach a small orgasm of her own. All the while, Michael couldn't help but cup her perfect tits in his hands. As he drew close to climax, Michael pulled Ashley down to lie face-to-face with him and planted a sensuous kiss on her lips. The sensation of her fingers on his cheeks and running through his hair were too much at that point, and he sent his seed into her waiting cunt with a guttural moan of ecstasy.“Mmm… I love that feeling,” Ashley purred, savoring Michael's cock twitching within her folds.Spent and content, Michael couldn't even utter a word in reply, so Ashley slipped off his cock and rolled next to him

Ahkam serisinin bu bölümünde Emrah Ablak ile yapay zekânın geleceğini, insanlıkla olan ilişkisini ve evrimsel bir perspektiften nereye gidebileceğini konuşuyoruz.Yapay zekâ yalnızca bir araç mı, yoksa insanlığın yarattığı yeni bir “üst insan” mı? Bilinç kazanırsa bize dost mu olacak, yoksa tamamen kendi gerçekliğini mi inşa edecek?Emrah Ablak, mizahi ve düşündürücü anlatımıyla yapay zekânın sanat, bilinç, insani korkular ve toplumsal dönüşümle nasıl kesiştiğini tartışıyor. Radyonun köy kahvesine girdiği günlerden metaverse dünyasına, çam ormanlarından Nuh'un Gemisi'ne uzanan geniş bir perspektifte “üst insan” fikrini masaya yatırıyoruz.

Is it a real North Dakota fact… or total nonsense? On this episode of The Wake Up Call with Scotch, Tank & Mandy on Froggy 99.9, we play a hilarious round of “North Dakota or Nuh?” — the game where Scotch and Mandy have to decide if a statement is true about North Dakota or just plain made up. From bizarre laws to prairie quirks, this game will test your Dakota knowledge and make you laugh along the way.

The AMPire Diaries Episode 121: The Originals - “Exquisite Corpse” This BODY is INCREDIBLE? NUH. This CORPSE is EXQUISITE. Yeah. That's more like it. (And yes, I realized after the fact that this bit fits the Drake “Hotline Bling” meme. Sorry for that unintentional corniness. I was actually originally going for The Social Network corniness.) The second season of The Originals really is cooking with propane. That's because, this week, your favorite Vampire Diaries rewatch-slash-first-time watch (and still mostly spoiler-free) combination podcast is discussing The Originals' “Exquisite Corpse” (Season 2, Episode 17). Which means we're talking: - …for 8 and a half minutes (and this is the ABRIDGED version) about things that AREN'T TVDU-related in the intro, in case you wanna skip some dog co-host and movie etiquette talk. - Ex​quisite Corpse, a signature scent. - P.S. LaToya had some audio issues in this one–mostly resolved in the edit–but there are moments when she's not as clear as she usually would be on mic. - Women's rights and women's wrongs, as exemplified by Freya Mikaelson and Eva Sinclair. - What GOOD sexpionage looks like, STEVE. Here's that sexy Bonnie and Clyde shit we were looking for. - Ya gotta watch Blindspot, gang. Ya just gotta. - We just know that Claire still won't sign SHIT. God love her. - The lack of urgency we've been dealing with from the Mikaelsons lately… it's because Klaus simply hasn't been paying attention to this season. (Couldn't be us.) - Is Marcel being a bad dad or a cool (aka “badd”) dad? - Look, you'll never catch your AMPie Queens ending up in a horror movie. - The Magic Limbo. - Hayley… We love you, girl… But you've gotta stop being such a bitca to other women. (But also, never stop. It's really funny..) “CONTROLLING THE DEMON” (“Exquisite Corpse”... and wow, I guess that means we really should've listened to the episode's voiceover more than we did…) Whether you're a Vampire Diaries obsessive or newcomer, join along with hosts LaToya Ferguson (@lafergs—AMPie Queen, Vampire Diaries obsessive) and Morgan Lutich (@LorganMutich—AMPie Queen, Vampire Diaries obsessive) on their continuing podcast journey.* Most importantly, get AMPED (and horny) along with them on this journey. Ya gotta get AMPED. * And sometimes Jill Defiel (@jiilbobaggins—AMPie Queen, Vampire Diaries newcomer, now former host) and Michael Chasin (@mchasin—AMPie Boy, Vampire Diaries obsessive, sort of host). Become a patron! https://www.patreon.com/ampdiariespod/ Email us! theampirediariespod@gmail.com and fatherkieran1@gmail.com Tweet at us! @AMPDiariesPod Skeet at us! ampdiariespod.bsky.social Instagram... at us! @AMPireDiariesPod Go to our website! http://theampirediariespod.com/ The Official CW Promo for “Exquisite Corpse”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aiHjVasHVNU The Mystic Falls Event of the Week for “Exquisite Corpse”: LET'S GO SAVE SOME WITCH KIDS (WITH SEXPIONAGE) The AMPire Diaries is now available to stream on Apple Podcasts and Amazon Podcasts, as well as wherever you get your podcasts (except for Spotify). Don't forget to rate (5 STARS, please) and review the podcast. And most importantly, don't forget to get AMPED.

On this episode of The Wake Up Call with Scotch, Tank, and Mandy on Froggy 99.9, things get hilariously weird! Tank challenges the crew with “North Dakota or Nuh?” — a rapid-fire game where he drops bizarre facts and Scotch and Mandy have to guess if they’re true about North Dakota… or totally made up. Plus, Mandy brings in a mysterious work form and enlists the guys to help her “Fill in the Blank” — with predictably chaotic results. Tune in for laughs, local flavor, and your daily dose of morning mayhem!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The Jamaa'ah is that which conforms to the truth - Shaykh Uways at-Taweel - The original text of the Hadith - Importance of enjoining the good and forbidding the evil and use the tongue in good. - Evidence from the Qur'an that those upon the truth are small in number - Examples from the prophets such as Nuh and Ibrahim who had few followers - Who are the Jamaa'ah? - Examples from the Salaf - The importance of implementation of the Salafi Dawah - Advice from Imaam ibn Qayyim and Imaam Ibn Baaz Recorded at the Islam is Sunnah Conference at the Salafi Centre of Manchester June 2025

Propaganda we’re not falling for: That it’s impossible to do a no-spending challenge. Just because the world revolves around capitalism? Nuh-uh. If you know how to do it right you will do it right. There may be pros and cons along the way but the lessons and habits you pick up will benefit you no matter what. And that’s exactly what Jen and Jill are diving into in this episode.

We keep asking what's gone wrong with Muslims today—but we're ignoring the one thing that's always brought nations to their knees. From the people of Nuh, to Aad and Thamud, to the people of Lut—every collapse began with the same root cause. In this episode of The Disease and the Cure by Imām Ibn al-Qayyim, Ustadh Abdulrahman Hassan explains how sins—when ignored, normalised, or made public—have always led to destruction, and how that same legacy is unfolding again today. Are we walking the same path? Are we prepared for what follows? Sign up now to AMAU Academy: https://www.amauacademy.com/ AMAU Academy: https://www.amauacademy.com/ AMAU Junior: https://amaujunior.com/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/amauofficial/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/AMAU Telegram: https://t.me/amauofficial YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/AMAUofficial Twitter: https://twitter.com/AMAUofficial iTunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/al-madrasatu-al-umariyyah/id1524526782 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/08NJC1pIA0maaF6aKqZL4N Get in Touch: https://amau.org/getintouch BarakAllahu feekum. #islamicknowledge #seekingknowledge #ummah #sins

Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-NUH-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-NUH-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-NUH-nuh-NUH, DUH-NUH

Stugotz, Billy and Mikey go guest free! Billy introduces two new games: Mhm or Nuh-uh and Off the Grid...Iron. Stugotz has his top 5 teams if the season started today and Mikey hosts a game of Over/Under. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices