Podcasts about Nuh

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

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.

Abdullah Uçar'ın kaleminden "Hayatın Gerçekleri ve Nuh'un Gemisi". Bu yazı Genç Dergisi'nin Kasım 2025 sayısında yayınlanmıştır. Seslendiren: M. Abdurrahman IŞIK Şimdi Youtube, SoundCloud ve Spotify üzerinden dinleyebilirsiniz. #pod #gençpodcast #podcasts #podcasting #seslidergi #gençdergi

#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.

Er datasentre noe som kan funke i verdensrommet? Mange med penger og vyer mener det. Elon tror det er lurt, og han er ikke alene. Er servere og lagring av TikTok-videos den første næringen som skal "industrialisere" verdensrommet? Nuh... det er noen skjær i sjøen

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.

Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 1 Pandemic Survivors, Harems and the Pacific Northwest. Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. To combat the deadly Duo Halo virus, the government will change the lives of Harrison Black and his friends out in the hills of Oregon. In return, Harrison finds a new purpose to his life in the midst of losing his family history. The House Guest. I glanced away again, relatively certain that Erica hadn't noticed my involuntary glance down at her cleavage but not overly worried. The grocery store parking lot was only half full, but we were waiting out front and I felt like we were in a bread line in Soviet Russia. The only good news was that it was a warm spring for Oregon State, and a clear day, so Erica and I weren't bundled up in jackets or anything. Of course, we were still getting used to the masks. "This feels ridiculous," Erica said, adjusting the bandana covering her lower face. She'd done her makeup as usual, with soft but smoky eyeshadow, and her thick dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Erica was a well-put-together lady, with the hips and bust of a woman who had aged perfectly into her thirties. I'd known her through our late twenties, and I wasn't ashamed to say I thought she'd only gotten hotter with time. Her black jeans clung to her hips and ass, and the black sweater she was wearing unzipped over a ripped band t-shirt accented the v of her cleavage that I'd been trying not to glance at. "At least it's not the middle of winter," I said. "Imagine this going on in January, in a snowstorm?" "We'll never need to see that," said the old man in front of us in line. He was wearing a hunting gaiter, but it was riding low on his upper lip. "This ain't the first virus, it won't be the last. Couple of weeks and the panic will die down. We'll have practically forgotten it by the fall, I bet." "Hopefully," Erica nodded. They'd announced the quarantine two weeks ago, and it had gone into effect last week. My roommate Leo and I had invited Erica, his sister, up from Portland; she was going to be cooped up in her apartment alone for the two-week shutdown and we had plenty of space on my old family property. Erica had made the drive the day before the statewide quarantine kicked in, having locked up the Tattoo Parlor she managed, and it had been a week of sun, hiking and ATV tours through the property, along with teaching her how to throw an axe and shoot some archery. Next week we were planning to show her the ropes on gun safety, and let her try out some of my grandfather's old hunting rifles. Erica was game for it all, and it felt like a mini vacation for all three of us. What Leo and I hadn't planned for was making meals for three instead of two, and so now a week in Erica and I were braving a trip into town trying to figure out exactly what we were and weren't supposed, or allowed, to do. Erica turned to say something to me, but her sentence was cut off by the heavy thrum and backfiring of a pair of ugly pickups rumbling into the parking lot of the grocery store on jacked-up wheels, halfway to 'monster truck.' They parked near the back, near my own truck, both vehicles with the stupid 'truck nuts' swinging from the hitches on the back and one of them with a big confederate flag sticker in the back window. "Jesus, I thought rednecks were supposed to come from the South," Erica muttered. "There are rednecks in every part of every country," I sighed. "Ask me about German rednecks sometime. Those people are weird." Five men unloaded from the two pickups, and I could see someone still sitting inside one of the cabs. I immediately took in everything I needed to know about the men; my brain couldn't shut off the instinct. Five military-aged males, three who looked like they could handle a bit of a fight. None of them were carrying firearms, no obvious sign of concealed weapons, but several had utility knives sheathed on their belts. Not that uncommon out here in the foothills of western Oregon. Three of them were wearing army surplus combat boots, one was wearing what looked like steel-toe construction boots, and one was wearing hiking boots. Their clothes were blue-collar casual. Rough, in other words. None of them were wearing any form of a mask. The debate was still out in the news; first, we were supposed to wear masks, then they said it wasn't going to be helpful, and now they were saying wearing masks might be the most important thing. Everyone seemed confused about the issue, but everyone in line outside the grocery store was wearing one of some sort or other. "Are they seriously going to just?" Erica muttered. The rednecks were heading straight for the entrance to the store, looking to bypass the ten or so folks in line ahead of us and another six behind us. I could see the panic in the eyes of the pimple-faced teen manning the door. He had no fucking clue what to do about it. "Ah, shit," I muttered, already stepping out of line. "Harrison," Erica cautioned me. "It's not worth it. What's the point?" "If not me, then who?" I asked her, then raised my fingers to my lips and blasted a whistle that echoed across the parking lot. Everyone turned and looked at me. All the folks in line, the rednecks as they were about to bull their way past the boy, and the beleaguered kid who I'd already watched bumble through explaining the line to annoyed people, let these alone belligerent assholes. "Hey," I yelled, but tried to keep my voice more friendly than commanding. "How about you guys show some respect to the folks out here and just grab a spot in line?" "How about you suck my nuts? We aren't sheeple, we know our rights," one of them yelled. "Yeah, this place can't deny us service, we've got rights," another shouted. "There's a difference between rights and being polite," I said. "Old folks are waiting to get their groceries, you boys can wait fifteen minutes." "You got a problem with us?" Another one shouted. "You know who the fuck we are?" "Harrison," Erica sighed. "I ain't got a goddamn clue who you are," I said. "And I don't care beyond the fact that you're acting like assholes." Two of them immediately started coming towards me down the line, the other three hesitating a moment before following. Fuck. I'd been hoping they were just some bully idiots, but the two in the lead were way angrier than they should have been. "Take a few steps back and don't get involved, E," I said quietly. "I'll be fine, but you can't get involved, Okay?" "Harry, what the actual fuck? There are five of them. This is a fucking parking lot. We should just call the cops!" she whispered back. "I'd listen to your fella," the old guy in the gaiter said. "We got one State Trooper somewhere in thirty square miles of here; would likely take too long to do any good." "You wanna say that to my face, you fucking fuck?" one of the men said. I'd taken a few more steps out of line, and he got up within a foot of me with his teeth bared and a fist raised threateningly. "I'm a god damned sovereign citizen, and I got every right to protect my dignity, honor and good name against fucks like you." "Yeah," I said, looking down at him as I breathed in deep and let my full size loom over him. The guy was probably 6'1 or so, but I was 6'6 in my stockings and had an extra couple inches over that from my own hiking boots. "I said you guys are acting like assholes, and otherwise I could give one single shit about who you think you are." "You motherfucker, I'm gonna," "Harrison?" One of the three guys in the back asked. He was one of the ones I'd identified as not being much of a fighter. "Harrison Black, right? You played Defensive End at Eisenhower." "Uh, yeah," I said. "That was a while ago though..." "Oh man, dude. It's me, Barry O'Callahan. I was a year behind you," the guy said. "Guys, this dude almost single-handedly ran our high school defense. Didn't you end up joining the military or something?" "Yeah, yeah," I said, squinting and looking at Barry. "Really? Barry O?" "Heh, yeah I filled out a bit since I was a junior," the man laughed, his gut jiggling with the effort. "And then I filled out a bit more. How are you doing, man? When did you get out of the service?" "Well, I'm doing fine, Barry. Been out going on seven years. But this is a bit awkward," I said. The interruption had been as confusing a moment for the two hotheads in their group as it had been for me. They were looking back and forth between us, trying to decide if they were still mad at me, or mad at Barry, or were just giving it up. "Oh, yeah. Uh, don't worry guys, Harrison is cool, Okay?" Barry said. "Dude, are you just in the area visiting or what?" "I've been up at the family place for the last few years since Pop died," I said. "Oh man, I'm sorry," Barry said. "But hey, can't believe we didn't run into each other until now. Who'd a thunk, huh? Here dude, you should come out to the clubhouse sometime. We'll grab some brews, catch a game or something." Barry pulled a crumpled matchbook out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me. The front had a WWII-style blonde pinup girl on a navy background with a white star behind her, invoking the flag. The Golden Beaver and an address was printed in tiny letters on the backside. It would have been a funnier innuendo if they weren't referencing the Oregon state flag. "Yeah, maybe," I said. "Come on, guys," Barry said, slapping his two hot head friends on the shoulders. "Let's get in line. Nice seeing you, Harrison." "Yeah, you too Barry," I said. And then shook my head as the five men headed back towards the end of the line. "What the fuck was that?" Erica asked me as I joined her back in line, and we moved up a couple spaces as the teen at the door let more people into the store. "Honestly, I thought I was about to spend the night in county lockup," I said. "Fuckin' Barry O." "He seemed like a fan of yours," Erica smirked. "Big high school football star, huh?" "I was a little above average at best," I said. "And I wasn't an idiot. Easy to look good when the rest of the team sucks." I looked down at the matchbook again and shook my head, showing it to Erica. She snorted and took it. "Is this real? Please tell me you aren't going to go join their little redneck club." "Not likely," I said. "It's a wannabe militia group. Bunch of swinging cocks with no sway." "What?" "Cause they're so small. It's a tiny penis joke." Erica smirked again and rolled her eyes. "You child. Can you do me a favor?" "What's that?" I asked. "Maybe, for the foreseeable future, you keep the whole Walking Tall routine to a minimum?" "I'm sorry, did you just make a Dwayne Johnson, early 2000s movie reference?" "Yeah, I did," Erica grinned. "What are you going to do about it?" "We need to get you to watch some better movies," I laughed. "Hey, son," the old man ahead of us said quietly. "Seriously, could you have taken those guys?" I glanced back at them at the end of the line, muttering to each other. "Probably, if I was right. If I got three of them, the other two wouldn't have done anything." "Heh. Would have liked to have seen that," the old man grinned. "Don't encourage him," Erica said. "He hasn't gotten into a fight on my watch yet, I don't want him to start now." "Yeah," I said. "But that's mostly because you're the one who usually starts throwing punches at the bar." "Hey, a guy gets handsy, I put him in his place," Erica shrugged. "No 'Walking Tall' shit, my ass," I snorted. "You two make a fine, rowdy couple," the old man said. "Oh, we're not a couple," Erica said. "Just friends," I said. "He's my brother's roommate," Erica clarified. "I'm just visiting." The old man raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Alright. Well, maybe you two should consider toning down the flirting then. You're likely to attract bears with all the hormones you're putting out." "Erica, Erica! No, you cannot punch him," I said, holding her back. "Hey, Erica? Can we talk to you for a minute?" Erica looked up from her phone with a cocked eyebrow and a pensive smile. I immediately realized how weird and out of character our approach was. She was lounging on the couch in the living room, her sketchbook tossed to the side with a half-finished something scribbled out in frustration like she'd been trying to work but just couldn't get it right. I knew how she felt, having had the same frustrations ever since the quarantine had been announced. "Sure guys, what's up?" she asked. I let Leo sit down next to his sister on the couch as she sat up, and I took my usual chair. It had been my Father's up until he passed; I'd avoided it the first month after he died and I took over the family homestead. Then when my older sister Valerie and her family came to stay for that summer, she practically pushed me into it. 'It's just a chair,' became our catchphrase for the summer as we sorted through the belongings of our parents and grandparents. "I'm sorry," I said as I settled into the chair. "This is already coming off weird. Erica, it's nothing." "You're making it seem like it's something," Erica said. She turned to her twin. "What's going on?" Leo and Erica were both a couple of years older than me, but once you were into your early thirties that kind of stuff meant a lot less. Leo had the looks of a classic Italian paisan with thick dark hair, a hawk beak of a nose and bushy eyebrows. He was built thin and a little lanky, and was usually ready with an eager smile and word of encouragement for anyone he met. That's probably why we'd gotten along so well when we started rooming together; his positive attitude had been just what I needed coming out of the Army. Erica had a lot of the same features as her brother; the thick dark hair, the ready smile, the energetic sparkle in her eyes; but she also had a sensuality to her that I can't say I'd ever noticed in Leo. She was a little more patient, a little more sure of herself and willing to take charge of things. And that control went all the way to her fitness, as she hadn't let herself slide even through quarantine. Leo sighed. "No, it's nothing. Well, I mean I guess it's something, but it's not," "How about we just say it, instead of talking about talking about it?" I said. "Yeah," Erica nodded. "How about that?" "Well, uh, Harrison?" Leo looked at me, which I guess was fair considering this was my house at the end of the day. "Erica, we're almost a month into the quarantine now," I said. "I know that when we invited you down out of the city to stay with us, it was supposed to only be for a couple of weeks. 'Two weeks to flatten the curve' and all that shit. But things don't seem to be getting any better." "No, it's fine," Erica said, sitting up straighter in her seat and pulling away from her brother. "I know I've been imposing on you guys. It's fine, I can head back down to Portland and I'll just," "Jesus Christ, Erica," Leo said. "We're not kicking you out." "You're not?" she asked. I realized that she was clenching her fists in her lap so hard she was trembling slightly. "Not a shot, E," I said. "We just wanted to make sure that you knew we want you to stay as long as you want or need. We love having you here." For the first time in my life, I saw Erica's lower lip tremble. "Really?" she asked. Back in the city she was the manager of one of the most successful tattoo and piercing parlors in the state, herding artsy workers that acted like cats with constant access to catnip. Erica was firm but fair with her artists, managed a clientele that ran the gamut from rich and entitled assholes to meth'd out deadbeats, and kept her own skills sharp with constant discipline and practice. Every time we had hung out in the years before the quarantine, I'd always been struck by how forceful a personality she was; she could smack talk with the best of them, manhandle a drunk in a bar like an experienced bouncer, and laughed loud and full-bellied. Seeing her on the verge of tears was a shock, and I realized we probably should have had this talk two weeks ago. "Yes, of course we do," I said. "God, you're practically family, Erica. I don't think I could let you go back and stay in the city right now. We love you." The damn burst and as thick tears began to pour over her cheeks and streak her dark eyeliner she reached out and pulled Leo into a hug with one arm. She beckoned for me with the other and I crossed the space to wrap her up in a hug as well. "Thank you," she whispered quietly between us. "I know you guys wouldn't; but still. Everything going on out there, and the way the city is right now... I just didn't" "It's going to be fine," Leo said to his sister, squeezing her harder. "You'll see." She kissed him on the cheek, then turned and kissed me on the cheek as well. "Thank you." I gave her a bit of a squeeze in return. "We'll need to go get some more of your stuff, I guess. You only came down here with a duffle bag." She laughed. "God, yes," she said and tried to wipe her tears. "I can go up there. I could use some more underwear, ha-ha." "Too much information!" Leo said, releasing his sister. She sniffed hard to clear her nose and wiped her cheeks some more to clear her spilt makeup and tears. Erica had a sort of post-punk or light goth style, with thick eyeliner and soft but smoky eyeshadow. For someone in the tattoo business, she had relatively few piercings, just two in each earlobe and a single small, silver nose ring on one nostril. She made up for it with a pair of full sleeve tattoos on her arms and a collection of assorted smaller tattoos on her legs. "What, you don't want to hear about me sweating through my bras?" She laughed at her brother. "Come on, Leo, we're all adults here." I laughed at her teasing and she squeezed me to her with the one arm she still had around my shoulder. She turned and kissed me on the cheek again. "I can go down to the city by myself, you guys don't need to risk yourselves for me. All the news reports are saying this thing is extra dangerous for men." "No, we'll help," I said. "We don't know how long this thing will last, so we'll bring the pickup and you can bring your car. And if you get exposed, you'd bring it back here with you anyways, so we might as well try and do it as fast as possible. Three sets of hands will make things go easier." "Okay," she nodded, then with a last squeeze of my shoulders she eased away and stood up. "Okay. Well, damn, guys. This feels like a fucking weight lifted off my shoulders. I've felt like I've been overstaying my welcome, not that you guys did anything to make me think that. I just,” "It's fine," I said. "We understand." "I don't," Leo said. "You've been all up in my personal space since the dam womb. You never had a problem with it before now." "Come here, you twerp," Erica laughed, slapping her brother on the arm. "Alright, alright," I said. "Come on, children. Let's make a plan here. No time like the present, if we get everything ready we can head out tomorrow."   Leo and I had first become roommates when he sublet me a room as I came out of the military seven years ago and wanted to move back to the Portland area. Then, when my father passed and I needed to move back to the family property, Leo had been more than happy to come on up with me instead of trying to find someone new to take over my half of the house lease. The old ranch-style house I'd grown up in had plenty of room, and my mother had died a few years before Dad, so it worked out for both of us. Even before the quarantine was announced we'd both been working from the homestead; my freelance illustration and concept art gigs kept the bills and property tax under control and food on the table, and Leo had swapped to making artisanal furniture in his little shed workshop instead of the house framing and cabinetry he'd been trained in. The old barn made a decent new workshop for him after a couple of upgrades, and once I'd gotten a satellite installed for point-to-point internet service we were... Well, we hadn't exactly been living the technological dream, but we had what we needed. The drive down to Portland from the homestead outside Jewell took a bit over an hour and a half on a good day with moderate traffic. It only took us an hour, in the middle of the day. I drove my truck, the cover on over the bed, and Leo rode with Erica in her car. The highways were practically empty, and for a while the drive almost felt like just a beautiful day out; other than the thick sweater I was wearing, and the work gloves I'd duct taped to the cuffs. I also had a pair of bandanas hung around my neck, ski goggles sitting on the passenger seat, and the hood of my sweater pulled up. It was the middle of a hot spring and I was sweating my ass off in my own truck just in case of death by viral infection. Even in the last couple of weeks, all the messaging online from the Government about what to do for safety felt like it had been conflicting with itself constantly, and when Leo and Erica tried to do more research they couldn't even figure out which politician or government body to listen to, let alone find something useful and convincing. So we went all out. Driving through the suburbs was a bit of an experience. One neighborhood would be completely desolate, not a single person outside and everything locked up tight. The next would be full of people outside on the street, walking dogs and kids running around playing. Most of them had those medical masks on, but it looked like people were out on summer vacation or something. The neighborhood after that was mostly shut down like the first, but one of the houses easily had thirty vehicles parked around it and was hosting some sort of party going on in the front and back yard. Somehow, despite the world feeling so alien, I still found driving through the city even weirder. Getting into the urban center where Erica had a small apartment near the Tattoo Parlor was like we'd hit the end of the world. Even more than in the suburbs, the near complete lack of people was shocking. We could go entire city blocks without seeing another car, and then suddenly we'd come across a food delivery driver peddling down the middle of the city street on a bike. The only other motorized vehicles I saw were one dude on an electric scooter having the time of his life, and ambulances speeding down the streets with their lights running. They didn't even bother with the sirens. Crackle, crackle. "Hey, Harrison? You read me? Over." I picked up my handheld radio and pressed the button. "Yeah, I read you, Leo. Over." "So we need to take a detour. There's a bunch of stuff online about this Autonomous Zone thing. Protestors in the middle of the city. We're going to avoid it. Over." "Yeah, sounds good. I'll follow. Over and out." I shook my head. The protests had started about a week ago. Halfway across the country, a man had been shot by police; investigations were ongoing, but no one looked good in the situation. Not the cops, not the man, not even the bystanders who had filmed the whole thing instead of intervening. It was a shit show all around, and it had sparked protests that I could only assume were fueled by people feeling so trapped in their own lives. Portland, ever a liberal center of activism, had been a hotbed every night. Vigils and marches every afternoon and evening. Then the riots started at night. We drove down a couple of streets that looked like we'd left the United States behind and entered a foreign warzone. I'd seen streets in Kabul during my deployment that had looked similar; the only thing missing from the burned-out cars, graffiti and general detritus were bullet scars on the walls. Windows that weren't boarded over were smashed. Storefronts were burnt out, looted, or both. It took us an extra twenty minutes to drive all the way around the 'autonomous zone.' By the time we pulled up into the alley behind Erica's apartment building, I was feeling sick to my stomach. A pandemic. Riots. What was next, a natural disaster? I'd seen some of the world; not a lot, but enough. Some of the best and worst places. We were supposed to be better than this. Taking the back stairwell was part of the plan. We didn't want to draw any attention from people; for all that Portland was that liberal bed of activism I'd just been thinking about, it was also still an urban center plagued by theft, crime and people trying to take advantage of each other. With no one on the streets, I'd suggested that pulling up out front made us more of a target to people looking to cause trouble, or attracting the attention of overzealous police. I pulled my truck in next to Erica's car and hopped out. "Alright, make sure you lock up," I said. "Harri, please," Erica said, sliding down her own ski goggles over her eyes. We were all bundled up now, with multiple face coverings each. "I've lived in the city about eight times longer than you ever did. I know how to handle myself." "Yeah, I know," I said. "I'm just a little anxious." "It's fine, dude," Leo said. "Let's just get this done." Erica let us into the building, keying in through a back door, and up through the stairwell. We didn't see anyone on the way up, and she led us through the halls to her apartment. As she let us in, one of her neighbors opened their door and stuck their head out. "Erica? Dear, is that you?" It was a woman, maybe in her fifties. "Hey, Dianne," Erica said. "It's me. I'm just here to pick up some things, and I brought my brother and his roommate to help out." Dianne stepped fully out of her apartment. She was dressed comfortably and had her silvering blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Most notably, she wasn't wearing a mask or any other sort of personal protection. "It's so nice to see you, Erica!" she said. "It's been quiet up here the last few weeks. I have to say, I never thought I'd actually miss your early morning banging around, but I do." "Ah, Dianne," Erica said, holding up her hands. She was wearing rubber gloves, duct taped at the wrists to her sweater just like my work gloves were. "We really shouldn't get any closer than this." "Oh, dear, it's fine," Dianna said. "I've been cooped up in the apartment for a week now, the only person who comes over is Mr. Jones from 5C for coffee every few days. I'm sure you've been just as safe, living out of the city." "No, really Dianne," Erica said. "I don't mean to be rude, but we're only here to get some of my things and go. And I know Mr. Jones is probably lonely up there, but it's not safe for you two to get together for coffee. You should really just skype each other or something." "Oh, I already have to do that Zoomy thing to see my grandkids," Dianna scoffed. "But fine, fine. It's good to see you, dear. Try not to take things too seriously, it won't be good for your health." From inside Erica's apartment, I couldn't help but shake my head. "Dianne, maybe you need to take things more seriously," Erica said. "I'd hate if anything happened to you, but more importantly I'd hate for your grandkids to never get to see you again if you got sick." "Well, I guess..." Dianne trailed off. "Goodbye, Dianne. It was nice seeing you," Erica said in that tone of voice that was just shy of 'politely fuck off,' then followed Leo and me into her apartment and shut the door. "God, that woman," Erica said. She peeled down the pair of gaiters she was wearing over her face. The top layer was a winter covering Leo and I usually used in the middle of winter when we were snowmobiling, and the second was a much thinner one we used in the summer when A T Veeing. "We should be good in here, no one's come in since I left." I peeled down my bandanas and sighed. "I'm sure she's nice, but that lady needs a reality check." "I just hope she isn't someone else's reality check," Erica said. "Alright. I'm going to start in the bedroom. Leo, can you go through the living room and grab anything you think we might want in terms of DVDs and stuff? And Harrison, do you mind doing a check-over of the kitchen? I'm pretty sure I got rid of all the immediate perishables before I came down, but I might have missed some things that could've gone for a couple weeks." We split up and went to work. I cleaned out a few old condiments that Erica had missed and collected some canned and boxed food that would travel easily, along with some of the more specialty cooking equipment Erica had made of point of mentioning. I wasn't sure what an 'air fryer' did, but she made it sound like it was a gift from God, so I was willing to pack it up. "All done in the kitchen," I said, standing in the doorway to Erica's bedroom. She was rummaging in her closet. Her bed was covered in clothes and a couple of pieces of luggage, and everything looked like a mess. "Okay, hold on," she said, then she reappeared and dumped what looked like an entire department store's worth of bras out onto the bed. "Can you start packing this stuff up? Don't worry about folding or sorting it, I'll fix it all once we're back at your place. Then I can grab everything I need from the washroom and we'll be done." "Sure," I said, and we squeezed past each other so she could duck into the washroom. Once she was gone, I just chuckled and shook my head at the mess she'd already made. "I don't think this is all going to fit in these bags." I got to work, and soon three of the four pieces of luggage were stuffed full. That's when I made it to the pile of bras. I glanced out the door, and quickly picked up a fancy looking one and checked the tag. "Damn, Erica," I chuckled. It was obvious she was a busty girl, but 36E? I wouldn't have guessed. Then again, I wasn't exactly a bra aficionado. I wouldn't even know if I'd seen D's or E's or what, the sizing just sort of confused me enough that I couldn't care to look into it any further. I carefully began packing her daintier things into a bag, and below the bras was a pile of panties; and only a few of them seemed like they were designed for comfort and not show. There were strings, there was lace. I held a particular red number and shook my head again, trying to do my best not to imagine Erica wearing it and failing. I shoved it into the bag with the rest. "Incoming," Erica said, bustling back into the room with her arms full of canisters and bottles and all sorts of things from the bathroom. She dumped it all on top of the panties in the bag. "Usually I'd be a lot more organized with this," she sighed. "But I just feel... being in the city feels kinda gross right now." "Hmm, I feel it too," I said. I picked up the last handful of her underwear and put them on top of the cosmetics stuff. "Oh my God," Erica said, grabbing the bag from me. "I can't believe; God, this is embarrassing." She was grinning and her cheeks had heated up as she quickly zipped up the luggage and turned to me. "I didn't realize you'd work that fast." "Hey, I've seen ladies' underwear before," I laughed. "It's not a big deal." "Yeah, but you haven't seen my underwear," she chuckled along with me. "At least you saw the nice stuff. I left most of it here when I came down; wasn't exactly thinking about showing off the goods, ya know?" "Hey, anytime you want to show off, you just let me know," I laughed. "I tried not to pry, but some of them looked pretty hot." "Oh, my God," she said, face palming her embarrassment. Then her smile turned teasing. "Then again, we could always play you show me yours, I'll show you mine. I'm sure the girls would be happy for some more freedom around the house." She squished her upper arms together to pop out her chest a bit under her sweater. Now it was my turn to smirk and blush a little. I was just starting to try and figure out what to say when Leo came in from the front area of the apartment. "Think I'm about done up here," he said. "Anything else, sis?" Erica snickered and punched me in the arm. "That's probably it. I was just teasing Harrison about feeling' up my panties though." "Dude!" Leo said. "Oh, come on," I said. "You know I wouldn't." "Still..." Leo trailed off. "Whatever. Just leave my sister's granny panties alone." "You think I wear granny panties?" Erica said, then turned back to the bag and started unzipping it. "Well, let me just show you some of these..." "Nope, no, nada, nyet!" Leo said, covering his eyes with both hands and turning out of the room. "I do not need to know. Too much information for me!" Erica snorted and shook her head, re-zipping the bag. She winked at me and gave me another friendly punch on the arm. "Thanks again for helping with all of this, Harrison." "No problem at all, E," I assured her. "No, no," she said. "Seriously. Thank you. You guys didn't need to come out here; it feels sort of silly to say, but you're technically risking your lives for me right now." "Well, chivalry ain't dead yet, I guess," I said. "I guess not," she laughed. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "It's nice. Just don't go making a habit of it, I don't need some White Knight savior act out of you or my brother." "Deal," I said. We got everything out into the front hallway of the apartment, and it ended up being more than we could hope to carry down in one trip. The end result was that we made the first trip down, started loading everything into the bed of the pickup, and while Leo and Erica went back up for another load I stayed down with the vehicles. The thing about inner cities, we'd all learned quickly when we originally moved in, was that you took a risk when you left things in your car. Well, if you had a car to begin with, but if you did and people could see in then it was likely your shit was going to get stolen. So there I was, sitting on the open back gate of my pickup with double bandanas over the bottom half of my face and ski goggles over the top, when two men rounded a corner further down the wide back alley and stopped. They looked at me and the cars. I looked at them. One of them was wearing a medical mask, while the other had a knit wool balaclava on with nothing but his eyes showing. I'd never really considered it before, what with us living out in the woods away from most people, but at that moment I realized how simple it must be to do crime when everyone was expected to wear masks. I watched them. They eyed up the vehicles. I stood up. They watched me do it. I slammed the gate of my truck shut. They watched me do it. I walked around to the passenger door of the truck cab, pulled out the hard case I had stowed under the seat, grabbed my Dad's old Colt 1911 and slid a magazine home. The men kept their eyes on me, not batting an eye even though I was now holding a loaded firearm. I leaned against the back of my truck and watched them right back. Eventually, Leo and Erica came back down and I didn't mention the men or the pistol, which I tucked onto the passenger seat of my truck while we were moving things around. I left the door open so that I could keep easy access. Erica and Leo went up for one last load, and I entered another long staring match with the two men. They hadn't moved and were about fifty yards away so I couldn't tell if they were talking to each other. I swear I must have been sweating bullets under my sweater and gloves and various masks. I don't know if my adrenaline had spiked like this since seeing combat while deployed. Not even the grocery store parking lot showdown a few weeks ago had been like this. Finally, Erica and Leo came down with the last load, we got everything stowed away, and got back into our vehicles. I took a moment to unload and re-stow my firearm, and as Erica and Leo pulled away in her car I watched as the two men came up the alley and entered Erica's apartment building through the door we had been using. Maybe they had just been waiting to use the door, playing it safe with us. Or maybe it was something else. I wouldn't ever know. It took three days for us to start feeling... safe wasn't the right word. 'Less apprehensive' is where I ended up landing. Coming back from the city had been as smooth as driving out, but once we were home we all had this feeling of being dirty. It felt silly even at the time, but we ended up hosing each other off outside with the garden hose before heading in to take some long, hot showers. Was that ineffective? Probably. Did it make us feel better? Maybe, a little. When none of us were showing any symptoms of getting sick by the third night back, we all decided to crash and start a new show together on Netflix that night after dinner. I ended up in the living room first and was starting to scroll through the menus to find something we might like when Erica came down the stairs in her own comfy clothes. She was wearing baggy, low-riding sweatpants and a black tank top that I very quickly realized was bouncing way more than usual with each of her steps down the stairs. Erica walked over to the TV sitting area and flopped down onto the couch across from me, absentmindedly reaching up and tying her hair back into a loose and messy bun. "What?" she asked me when she realized I was staring at her. "Nothing," I said. "You just... you look good. Like that." She rolled her eyes. "It's just makeup, Harrison." What she meant was she wasn't wearing any. For the first time ever, even including the month that she'd already been staying with us, I was seeing Erica without makeup on. It was sort of shocking, honestly; whatever magic she did in the mirror, with her kit, it was like she could change the very structure of her face. Usually, she had an almost angular predatory look, with sultry and smoky eyes and sharp cheekbones leading down to a perfect set of clean and bright red lips. Now she looked brighter, more girl-next-door. Sure there were imperfections; soft lines under her eyes, little freckles and blemishes that got hidden by foundation, but her eyes were brighter, and her smile was wholesome. "Just don't feel like you need to be anything but comfortable, E," I assured her. "I like this look on you." She sighed and gave me a smirk. "Alright, charmer. What are we watching?" I tossed her the remote and let her start scanning through the list of new shows. Besides her lack of makeup and apparent lack of a bra, she was still her usual self. Both of her arm sleeves were bared by the tank top; her left arm was a colorful splash of a dozen of her favorite Pokémon from the original 150, all water-themed. Her right was Star Wars themed and focused on a pinup Femme Boba Fett on her outer upper arm, along with a couple sexy lady Stormtroopers, a Princess Leia in the requisite golden slave bikini, and Padme in the ripped-up white arena fight outfit. Not to mention the Yoda on her inner forearm and chili Chewbacca just below her armpit on her bicep. Her tank top also showed off the two heart tattoos on either side of her clavicle, and the half-mandala tattoo that sat on the back of her neck at the hairline. Erica's legs, while currently covered by her sweats, were a more eclectic collection of random and unplanned tattoos dating back from her start in the industry; some were done by her own hand, others by fellow apprentices, and a few even by the apprentices she'd eventually trained over the years. "Heads up!" Leo said, bounding down the stairs in his own sweats and a hoodie, vaulting over the back of the sofa and landing heavily next to his twin sister. "Jesus Christ," Erica said, ducking away to narrowly avoid getting kicked in the back of the head. She turned and hit Leo in the shoulder. "Watch it, you monkey!" "Takes one to know one," Leo laughed, swiping away her hands as she tried to hit him again. Soon the two were involved in a swearing match as Erica was leaning over Leo, trying to tweak his ears and drop a wad of spit down on his face, while he tried to both ward off her hands and push her away at the same time. Their easy sibling rivalry and goofing off usually wasn't this physical, but it still had me laughing and wondering all the same. I'd never had that with my sister; she was about seven years older than me, so we hadn't ever had that sort of a relationship. To be honest, I was also a little interested in the sibling scrap because Erica's tits looked fucking great jostling and bouncing around in her tank top, and a part of me hoped a boob would pop out in the chaos. Unfortunately, I couldn't be so lucky and the duel ended with both of them panting, sitting next to each other, with no boob appearance. "What are we watching?" Leo asked. "I dunno, we hadn't picked yet," I said. "Let's watch this," Erica said, seemingly at random, and selected some sort of a baking show. "Aw man," Leo said. "These competition shows are always so scripted." "They make me hungry," I said. "Maybe I should start baking more." "Yes," Erica said. "Now we're watching every season just so you can get more good ideas like that, Harri." The show was easy to follow and clearly designed like every other Food Porn-style "reality" competition. Other than the deliciously described food, the only thing actually keeping my attention was the host. "She's hot," Erica said during one of the transition scenes, right after the host had finished showing the TV audience the differences between a mousse and whipped cream. It had involved a lot of whisking very fast. "Not my type, but I can see it," Leo said. "She's got too much of a Fifties Housewife vibe going on." "That's just because she's so proper British," Erica said. "Look at her, she's gorgeous. And fucking stacked under those pretty dresses. What do you think, Harri?" "I'm with you, I think she's definitely hot," I agreed. "And I really dig the accent." "I bet she's a fucking freak in bed, too," Erica said. "No way!" Leo argued with his sister. "Look at her. She's all syrup and sweetness. I bet she's dry as a desert down there, and you couldn't fit anything in due to the stick up her ass." "Nuh-uh," Erica shook her head. "I'd put money on her having a filthy mouth off-screen. Just swears like a fucking sailor. And,  Hmm, I bet she probably says she's straight, but has plenty of experience with girls from her Prep School days." "Sure," I laughed along. "Makes perfect sense. Anything else?" "I bet she's got a cum fetish," Erica said. "Look at her eyes when she's talking about glazing. She's practically creaming her conservative little dress. And she definitely likes a cheeky finger up the bum to really set her off." All of us were laughing now, and the conversation faded as we struggled to get control of our giggles. By the time the first episode was over, we were hooked despite the silly concept, and let it play. We got four episodes in before Erica called it quits. "That's enough for me tonight, boys," she said, yawning and stretching her arms wide. Her right arm rubbed roughly against Leo's face on purpose, just to bug him as he pulled away. "I'm off to bed. Good night!" She bounced up off the couch and made for the stairs, her hips swiveling in her low-waisted sweats. They'd ridden lower, and she was showing a bit of a whale tail with her lace thong panties peeking over the waistline. "Dude," Leo said, snapping my vision from his sister as she walked up the stairs. "Uh," I hummed, and slowly raised both arms in an awkward shrug. "What do you want me to do?" "Just... don't make it a thing," he sighed, then flopped over onto his side. "She's my sister. You wanna watch Deadpool?" Visitors The rumble, sputter and hum of the approaching ATV broke my concentration as it cut through the quiet warbling of my shitty Bluetooth speaker long before Leo pulled around the trail bend. The thick foliage up here in the foothills, far at the back end of my family property, created a weird dampening effect so I hadn't heard him until he was almost on top of me. The rumble cut through the thick greenery now and was followed by the crunching of the tires biting into th

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.

Schools closed, internet suspended in Haryana's Nuh ahead of Braj Mandal Jalabhishek Yatra | What we know Jaishankar to visit China this weekend for SCO meeting, his first visit to country since 2020 standoff Trump to make 'major' statement on support for Ukraine but Russia stops short of criticism Saina Nehwal announces separation with Parupalli Kashyap after nearly seven years of marriage Angry SS Rajamouli pushes away fan attempting to click selfie after paying respects to Kota Srinivasa Rao.

Quaranteam – Book 1: Part 21 Andy's spirits are lifted by an old friend. Based on a post by CorruptingPower, in 25 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Chapter 36 Half an hour later, his phone rang and Andy glanced down to see it was Phil calling, a picture of him with the words "Phil The Elder" superimposed over part of it. The poker group actually had two Phils in it,  Phil Marcos and Phil Pak. The two men were dramatically different from one another, but also remarkably similar in others. They shared the same first name, so the group had given them nicknames when they were talking about them if it could've been either of them. Phil Marcos a.k.a. Phil The Elder a.k.a. Greater Phil was 34, Filipino and worked for Boeing with the Air Force at a base in the East Bay, and was certainly the closer friend to Andy. They'd met at a local comic book store just after Andy had moved out to the West Coast, and had hit it off immediately. When Andy had started his poker group up a few years later, Phil was one of the first people Andy had called. Phil Pak, a.k.a. Phil The Younger a.k.a. Lesser Phil was 32, Korean and worked for the NSA out of San Francisco, and not someone they'd seen as often as they liked. For the last couple of years, Lesser Phil had been trying to convince Andy to come work as a data analyst for the NSA in terms of interpretation and extrapolation. Lesser Phil had been a college friend of Eric's, and had been introduced to Andy only a few months after he'd met Greater Phil. While Andy still typically thought of them as Greater and Lesser Phil, he tried not to call them that out loud, and had them as Phil The Elder and Phil The Younger in his phone. Andy asked if it was a common name, and Eric remarked that he knew at least a couple more Phils but none he knew that well. Andy told him he'd had a similar problem with Jennys in high school. "Talk to me, Phil," Andy said to his friend. "You heard the recording. Should I be worried?" "Concerned, yes. Worried, no," Phil sighed. He sounded exhausted on the other end of the line, but as of late, Phil had always sounded exhausted. Whatever he was doing over at the base, it was certainly taking a toll on his friend. "So the good news is that in the long run, it shouldn't make too much of a difference. But that reaction means that Lexi had been infected with the Orange Variant of the DuoHalo virus before we introduced the serum to her body." "The 'Orange Variant?'" "We started naming them after colors, working our way through the spectrum. The Red Variant was first but it died off very quickly, so this is the second one," he grumbled. "But she isn't our first exposure to it, so we know how the serum's going to generally react to it, and what it's going to do to her. There are only two real major differences you're going to need to worry about." "Is she going to be okay?" "I told you, in the long run, it shouldn't make too much of a difference. The two differences you need to pay attention to are this,  first, her margin of error for recursion is far less forgiving. That means don't ever make her go more than a week without getting some Rook juice, if you know what I mean, otherwise she see temporary cognitive decline set in pretty fast, and she'll be ripping your clothes off no matter where you are, so keep that in mind." "Every seven days minimum," Andy repeated, writing it down on a notepad in his writing office. "What's the other major difference I need to worry about?" "It shouldn't even be a concern, but you should still know about it. You know how other men's semen will typically make an imprinted woman ill?" "Sure?" "Those who've been exposed to the Orange Variant, if they come in contact with the semen of a man other than those they're imprinted with, they go into a violent fit of rage, attacking anyone other than their imprinted man on sight. Those rage fits tend to be relatively short lived,  only a hour at most,  but they're still incredibly dangerous and not the kind of thing you want sprung on you as a surprise." "And this is my bodyguard who has this," Andy sighed. "Oh it's fine," Phil chuckled. "She won't harm you, and you know how to protect your family better than anyone. I think anyone who tried to use it as a weakness against Lexi would probably not live to regret it. She'll also be imprinting for longer than normal, so if she's sleeping for like a day and a half, don't worry about it. That's to be expected." "You doing okay, Phil?" Andy asked. "You look like shit, and I'm more worried about you now than I am Lexi." Phil sighed then laughed a little bit. "You know me. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Lots of long days in the office turning into long nights, and on top of that, Audrey and Linda are making sure that I have several partners as well, so that my immunity to DuoHalo continues to be strong. We're not entirely sure of the science of it yet, but it looks like the more people inside a particular polypod, the stronger the internal herd immunity the male at the center get is. Once we knew that for certain, my two queens made sure I had a good litter of partners in our household. So I'm up to eleven myself now." "I still can't believe I'm a level five and you're not, Phil," Andy said, deliberately testing a theory by trying to bait it out of his friend. "Okay, Andy, you got me," Phil said with amusement. "I'm also a level five. I was lying to you earlier, for security reasons. In fact, I think technically I was one of the first level fives. I've also technically had DuoHalo, but I can't really get into the details of that all that much. Let's just say that when we're finally through this whole pandemic, I'm going to have a bunch of stories to tell you that will blow your mind. I probably have to get clearance for you so that I can tell you some of them, but it'll be worth it." "I've always known you were up to something over there, Phil," Andy laughed. "I just couldn't figure out what it was." "Greater Phil, International Man of Mystery. It's got a nice ring to it." "Speaking of Mystery. Poker, this week. Let's do it." "Yeah, sure," Phil said. "I could use a break, so you call everyone else, and I'll make a point of coming over with as much of the family as I can convince to come out, although it has that weird side effect of making every poker night feel like a giant party where we're all hiding from our wives. Maybe we should see if there's enough interest to set up a second table and we can mix and match, so you can spend a bit more time meeting my partners and vice versa." "Well, you see Niko all the time, what with her being at your work, so you probably know her about as well as I do." "That girl's got secrets upon secrets, Andy." That caught him a little off guard. He wasn't bothered by it, but he was amused at the idea of her trying to hide something from him. "Niko? My Niko? I can't see it. She's open and transparent about everything with me." "Sure, okay. Didn't you feel that way about Erin?" "That was different?" "Was it though?" Phil said in a tone that immediately conjured the Smug Thor meme to his mind. "I mean, sure, Niko's secrets are probably being kept from you for the right reasons, as opposed to Erin's, but secrets are secrets." "The last thing I need is you making me more paranoid, Phil." "Forget I said anything. Oh, one last bit of news for you. Maya won't be there until tomorrow midday. Turns out she's also got the Orange Variant, so we're making sure the serum is getting a good foothold before we send her over to you. It's all just safety precautions, but it'll be over soon enough." "Great. We can do poker night on the 20th, so we can all watch the President's speech and the 60 Minutes story together." "Sounds like fun," Phil agreed. "Hopefully Katie Couric's team caught my good side. See you on Friday." As Andy hung up the phone, he noticed that Whitney was lingering in the doorway. She was dressed impeccably in a white button up shirt and a black pencil skirt with black pantyhose on beneath, and the shirt was just barely thin enough that he could see hints of her red bra on underneath. "Have you got a moment, sir?" "Sure thing, Whitney, what's up?" "Just wanted to go over the set up work I've done for the house so you know what's going on, and to ask you a few questions so I can start the process of replacing your laptop for you," she said, her hands folded together in front of her, her eyes mostly lowered. "Sounds great, but Whitney, you don't have to look down all the time. I know you're more used to a stern hand than I am, and I'll do my best to be what you like when we're intimate, but when you're acting in your duties as the house IT manager, you need to relax a little more and try to fit in." Whitney smirked a little bit, those dark red lips perked up as she lifted her head, nodding at him with a little smile. "Oh, I know, sir. I think I mostly just wanted to see if you would notice. Shall we?" For the next half an hour, Whitney explained to him in good detail all the changes she'd gone about to the house in the last day, getting all the rooms configured to work within the house's larger intranet. As it turned out, there were multiple LAN ports in the walls of every room in the house, it seemed like, and once again, Andy found himself wondering who this house had been built for originally. In addition to making sure all the ports were working, Whitney had also set up wireless hubs and repeaters all throughout the house, enough so that no matter where a person was in the house, they should always have a good signal to the internet. The house's security systems ran on an entirely separate network, one with minimal external connectivity, and Whitney said that she would work with Lexi to make sure the system was up to whatever standards his new head of security had in mind. They walked while they talked, and outside in the back, Andy could see Katie astride her riding lawn mower, zipping in lines across the monstrous amount of green grass in his back yard, making sure to get all of it cut even and levelly. He could also see Tala hauling things into the back house with the help of Nicolette, who had ditched the maid outfit for the time being for a more practical set of blue jeans and a baggy t shirt covered in paint splotches. All of the changes, Whitney assured him, had been done with minimal disruption to anyone's work in the house, and she'd been trying to get as much of it today, as it was a Sunday. The last thing they talked about was his replacement laptop, something that Andy was remarkably picky about. Oh, he didn't care about the things most people cared about,  when it came to processors and memory, Andy insisted none of that mattered to him,  but the thing he was adamant about was that the keyboard feel as close to the one on the laptop he was currently using, an eight year old IBM ThinkPad. Too many keyboards were difficult to use for long periods at a time, and considering how many words Andy found himself putting into his laptop on a daily basis, if the keyboard was unwieldy, the laptop might as well be non existent. Whitney made a special note that "keyboard feel" was of the utmost import, and she insisted to him, she would do her best to get him a good replacement within a week or so. She had already begun backing up all the files from his existing laptop to the house's master network, as well as to a backup kept in a fire safe, so that even if disaster struck, he would still have his work in a safe location. Andy did tell her that she didn't have to work full time on the weekends, and that she should make a point of getting settled into her own room, and spending some time catching up with her friend Nicolette who had brought her here. Whitney had smiled at that, and agreed to go get changed so she could help Tala move in, and then they could all help Whitney get moved in afterwards. He was starting to walk back towards his office when he ran into Lauren, clearly just back from a jog around the neighborhood, sweaty and out of breath, a big smile on her face. "Hey there, fella, just the bloke I was lookin' to have a moment with. Got a snip?" He grinned, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sure, what's up?" "I've been thinking, and I think maybe we should let Taylor off the hook now," she said, looking down at her feet for a second. "I know, I know, I was the one who set the whole month punishment in place but, strewth, seeing her walking around naked all the time is starting to make me feel bad. I'm thinking she's learned her lesson, and she knows she's got lots of trust to earn back from me, so I'm only keeping her from getting to spend time learning more about all the other amazing sheilas you have in this house, and that's not fair of me." "I agree," Andy chuckled, "but I didn't want to be the one to tell you, seeing how fire and brimstone you were about the whole thing when you set the rules in place." "Strewth," she muttered. "Was it really that much a dunnybrook?" "I was a little worried the heavens were going to part and you were going to call down lightning bolts from the skies," he said, the smile wide on his face. "Real wrath of god type shit." "Bugger. Anyway, you should tell'er that you've talked me down, and that you laid down the law, and you decided, and eventually I relented, that she is done with that punishment and should just join the family like all the other birds. Make it clear you decided, not me, so I still get to keep a bit of that big scary reputation." Andy rolled his eyes but nodded. "Sure sure, you'll look mean. You'll look really scary. Anyway, I'll go find her and tell her while you're hopping into the shower." "Stink that bad, do I?" "Your sweatstains have got sweatstains, Lauren," he said with a laugh as he was backing away from her, while she mimed punching motions in his direction. He wasn't certain where he'd find Taylor in the house, so he decided just to go wandering the halls and see where he stumbled into her. He found her in Hannah's room, where she, Asha and Hannah were sitting on the bed, gossiping. Asha and Hannah hadn't bothered to change out of their pajamas, enjoying a lazy Sunday, while Taylor sat nude with her back against the wall. One of his two cats, Muninn, the Russian blue, was sitting on the bed near Asha, who was petting him idly. All three girls tensed a little bit when he entered the room,  Taylor wasn't supposed to be sitting up on furniture unless Lauren or himself had told her to do so, but Andy hadn't really followed the rules at all, and had made it clear multiple times that Taylor's 'punishment,' such as it was, was mostly for Lauren's mollification, and that if Taylor slipped on the rules from time to time while she wasn't around, he didn't particularly care. "No no, don't get up, Taylor, it's fine," he said, coming into the room. "In fact, it's what I came to talk to you about." "You need to get Nicolette to turn up the house furnace, babe," Asha said to him. "If I'd ta walk around all day in me skivvies, I know I'd be freezin'." "Totally, Daddy," Hannah said. He'd repeatedly told her that she didn't have to call him that (in fact, going so far as to hint that it made him a little uncomfortable when she did) but she had repeatedly answered that she liked calling him that, so she wasn't going to stop any time soon. At least she knew enough not to do it when other people were around the house. "We're just talkin' anyway, so I told her to hop up here, so if you gotta punish someone, it should be me." "You look far too eager when you suggest that, Hannah," he told the Asian teenager. "Anyway, I had a talk with Lauren just a little bit ago. I told her this is my house, and I'm in charge, and that I've decided you've served this part of your punishment long enough. You're free to get dressed, wear clothes around the house, sleep wherever you want, sit wherever you want. You can get your phone back, and you can start working with Lauren at the 49ers camp whenever you feel like you're ready. You're a full member of the household now, and there's no reason for this silly punishment to go on any further. And you can certainly take off that ridiculous dog collar." Taylor's bright blue eyes had been focused on him the entire time he'd been talking, and she slipped off the bed quickly to throw her arms around him, pressing those impressive tits of hers against his chest as she hugged him very tightly, clinging to him, even as he could hear her sniffling back some tears. "Thank you, Andy," she said quietly. "I know Lauren's still mad at me, but this has been really hard, being made to feel like less than a person." He wrapped his arms around her, patting her bare back. "I know, and I get that, but you also have to realize that cheating on her hurt her in a way she'd never been hurt before, and that won't go away fully for a long long time. Just because you're done with all of this doesn't mean you're done with all of that. I know you know that, but it doesn't hurt to be reminded that you're going to be repairing that damage between you two for years to come. You screwed up, but there's a way back from that, as long as you're willing to put in the work and learn from your mistakes." Taylor pulled back, looking at him as something just dawned on her. "So, wait, all the rules have been lifted? Like all all of them?" He tilted his head a little. "Yyyyes? Why, is there one in particular you're asking about?" "So, like, next time, y'know, when me and you, then we can,” He bit back a smile and nodded. "Yes, yes we can. And if you want to masturbate again, you're welcome to start doing that too." She shook her head over dramatically once then leaned in to kiss him. "After we've had our first time together, our first real time together, then I will, but I want the first thing inside of my cunt after all this time to be your cock. If that's okay," she said, biting her lip nervously. "Of course it's okay. I think your next day in the rotation was going to be the 20th, but if you want, we can try and find some time before then instead. It can even be just the two of us, without Lauren around, if that's what you want." She pouted again for a moment. "Anything I want?" "Well, within my usual limits, but sure." She slipped her arms away from him, and turned back to look at Asha and Hannah, extending a hand to each of them. "I want the four of us together, for my first time normally with you, Andy," she said, as Asha took one hand and Hannah took the other. "Oh rrrrreally?" Asha said, dragging the sound out, her London accent dripping through the word. "All four of us together? Sounds like a spot of fun. I'm game if you are, Whiskers," she said, looking over at Hannah with a smile. "Anything you can throw at me, I can totally handle, Goldfish," Hannah shot back at her friend. Clearly the girls had developed nicknames for each other when he wasn't around. "I was supposed to have tomorrow night, Daddy, so instead of it just being me, it'll be all three of us, if that's totally cool and shit." "Yeah, that's, ahem, totally cool. And shit." He leaned in to give Taylor a quick kiss, but she kissed him back harder than expected, and it lasted longer than he'd planned, not that he minded. "And you, young lady, should get some clothes on, and maybe unpack your stuff, whether that's in your own room or in Lauren's room, that's up to you." "Oh it totally all goes in with Lauren," Taylor said. "I don't even want my own room. Either I'm in her bed or yours. You want to come help me move in, girls?" "You couldn't stop us, love," Asha said. "Last one there has a smelly cunt!" Hannah said as she bolted towards the door, Asha and Taylor just a step or two behind her. "Y'know," Andy said to himself and the cat, "I feel like I should've yelled that there's no running in the house after them, but I just know it wouldn't have done any good." "Meow," Muninn said to him in response. "Oh hush," Andy said. "What the hell do you know?" "Meow," Muninn agreed. "Damn straight." After leaving Hannah's room, he was halfway down the hall when he ran into Sarah, who was wearing one of his t shirts, one for a band called Stereophonics, and sweatpants beneath it, her hair done up in the least stylish ponytail he'd ever seen from her, as if she'd just put her red mane up to get it out of the way for a while. "Hey you," she said, her pearly white smile beaming at him. "Maya should be here any minute, and I know you're just gonna love her." "I actually spoke to Phil a little bit ago, and she's not going to be here until tomorrow, but she's still coming, don't you worry." He explained the Orange Variant to her, and while she was a little disappointed that her friend's arrival would be delayed, she understood that Maya's health was the most important thing, and the base didn't want to let her out of their sight until she was ready. "What've you been up to today?" She rolled her oceanic blue eyes at him with a big harumph. "Reading screenplays that my agent sent over, trying to pick my next project. It's looking like everyone's going to want to do serialized television right now, because they can get more content out of smaller budgets, but so many of these stories are just so boring," she groaned. "It's like my agent's only sending me the same stuff." "Well," he said, taking her hand in his as they walked down the hallway, "tell your agent what you want then, whether that's more drama, more action, more comedy, more whatever it is you want more of. They only know what you want when you tell them. I had to learn the same lesson with my literary agent early on." She squeezed his hand thankfully. "My agent really should know better, but you're right. I can get her on the hunt for the kinds of things I want to be doing. You know there aren't really any good spy stories on television right now? I should see if she can get me something like that. I'll give her a call tomorrow, see if maybe she can reach out to the production companies, see who's already got projects winding up I can try and piggyback onto." They walked past the door of Emily and Sarah's workspace, and Andy noticed it was closed. He pointed with his other hand at the closed door as they kept on walking. "Em in some kind of meeting?" Sarah nodded. "London based production company wanted to reach out to her, so she's taking the call today, but she should be out in an hour or so." The doorbell rang, and Sarah arched an eyebrow in surprise. "I thought you said Maya wouldn't be here until tomorrow." "That's what Phil told me," he said, as the two of them started to head downstairs, although Andy could hear someone answering the door, followed by a loud squeal of recognition. When they came down the stairs, Andy could see it was Piper who'd answered the door, and she had her arms wrapped around a short blonde girl, hugging her tightly. "Andy! Sarah! Brooke's here!" Piper said to them, swinging the shorter girl around a bit. "That's great, but I thought she was  " "Surprise, man!" Xander said as he stepped in through the doorway. Andy let go of Sarah's hand and rushed down the rest of the stairs, suddenly stopping about six feet away from the door. "Are you...?" "Paired with three people this morning, so I'm 100% safe as houses," his tattooed friend said. Once he'd gotten the word 'paired' out, Andy had continued rushing his best friend, wrapping his arms around the burly guy, giving him a hell of a hug. "Oh Jesus, it's good to know you're safe, man," Andy sighed. "And it's so fucking good to see you. I know we hung out last December, but fuck, these eleven months have felt like five fucking years,” "Glad to see my mouth's rubbing off on you," Sarah laughed, closing the distance to meet them. "Xander, these are my partners Piper Brown and Sarah Washington, both of whom you've talked to a bit through FaceTime. Piper, Sarah, this is my best and oldest friend, Xander Baker, whom I've known since we were both, like, what, 6?" Xander laughed, nodding. "6, 7, something like that. However old we were in kindergarten." "Not very," Andy said. "Not enough!" Xander replied. "Anyway, Andy, Sarah, this is my soon to be partner Brooke Maloney, whom I have your partner Piper to thank for." "Well," Piper laughed, "I'd originally pitched her to come here and be Andy's partner, but he realized she'd be a much better fit for you, considering how much you both love classic cars, although really, I think it was just so he didn't have to hear her singing Vince Gill songs around the house all the time, 'cause she does that a lot, and I hope they warned you about that, Xander." "She can be singing Vince Gill while I'm singing Wu Tang Clan, and somewhere in the middle, over the engine of a Dodge Charger, I think we can make it work," Xander said. "Honestly, Pipes," Brooke said to her, "the only reason he said soon to be is because I wanted to come over and say thank you to y'all, and let Xander have a bit of time with his friend before we got to bumpin' uglies. But all the other gals in his house have just been so sweet, y'all, I can't wait for you to meet'em." "Why don't Piper and I give you a tour of the place, Brooke," Sarah said, "and the boys can do a little bit of catching up. You want me to have Jenny bring drinks to you out on the patio, hun?" "Yeah," Andy said, "I'll take a pina colada. Xander?" "Just a Corona." Sarah nodded. "Drinks coming up! This way ladies!" she said, marching them down towards the kitchen first. "Jesus Andy," Xander said quietly. "You really bagged Sarah Washington. I mean, I know I've talked to her vidchat, but seeing her in person like this,” "Seriously, I don't deserve this much luck," Andy said with a chuckle as he started to lead his best friend towards the back patio. "Oh fuck you," Xander teased. "You deserve exactly this much luck. Our entire lives, I've been watching you do good things for people left and right and never asking for so much as a thank you in return, and this is what karma has brought you, dude, so live a little. Enjoy it." As they moved out onto the patio, Xander shook his head. "I will say, however, that my house isn't quite as big as yours is. Don't get me wrong, it's still a fucking palace compared to that one bedroom shithole I lived in back in Ohio, but I'm just saying,” Andy rolled his eyes with a smirk. "You know I didn't pick the places myself, right jackass?" "I guess so," Xander said, as the two men moved to sit down on deck chairs near the pool. It was cool for November but not so cold that either man felt like they needed to add layers, both having grown up in the Midwest, where California winters would be considered nice spring days. "God, I'm really here. It's wild, man." "It's great having you out here, Xander. Jesus, the stories I have to tell you. You're here early, though. I didn't expect you out here for at least a few more days." "Turns out these DuoHalo Variants are pretty intense," Xander sighed, "and since they were pairing me up with someone in the military, they wanted to make sure I got hooked into the system as quickly as they could, so everything got very rush rush rush. When you told me to be ready to go at a moment's notice, you weren't kidding. As soon as we finished up that conversation, I started packing, and just barely got done before they showed up to cart me away. They're even taking care of selling my house for me, although I suspect it's just going to become government housing or something." "Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me," Andy agreed. "God, it's good to have you here, man." "Well if it isn't my favorite hoodrat," Fiona said, carrying out a tray with three drinks on it, setting it down on a table as Xander immediately got up and hugged him hard. "How you been, lunkhead?" "Better now that I know you made it here okay, muckraker," he teased back. "How the hell you been Fi?" "Better now that I know you ditched that crazy ex of yours," she laughed. "Can I say it?" "Oh I think you've earned it." "I told you that girl was no good." "You did indeed tell me that," Xander agreed, taking his bottle of Corona from the drinks tray, as Andy grabbed his pina colada and Fi grabbed a tall glass of wine. "Hey hey hey, the gang's all back," Fi said with a smile. "To old friends and new flames." "To life, liberty and us getting through this fucking plague together," Xander toasted. "To family," Andy corrected. "To family!" they all toasted together, clinking glasses. Piper has a confession to make.. Chapter 37 The conversation had gone far into the evening, with members of the household coming in and out several times, joining for a while before leaving the trio to their own devices once more, mostly anyway, a couple of Andy's partners choosing to remain longer. Sarah and Aisling in particular were intent on getting as many stories about Andy's youth as they could, and he felt a little like they hoped either Xander or Fiona would tell them embarrassing tales from their college years. While Fi had been mostly coy about the years they'd spent at university, Xander, by contrast, had been eager to tell at least a handful of hilarious and ridiculous stories about the troubles they'd found themselves in during their misspent youth. Despite how flustered he got a couple of times, it was a wonderful night of reminiscing, and a chance for the girls to see Andy in a different light. A piece of advice Andy had never let go of was that as you got older, it was almost important to keep people around you who knew you when you were young and fearless. At least a few times, he'd managed to deflect the conversation off himself and onto other people, a detour letting both Sarah and Emily talk about their experiences making movies, and Xander talking about the process of being relocated from Ohio out to California. Xander's trip had been surprisingly surreal, and he told the group about it in explicit detail. He'd been loaded into an isolation chamber on a cargo plane along with twenty other men, each in their own little plastic bubble tent, although each of the tent also had curtains that could be dropped for privacy. Xander told them he'd found that odd but understood why eventually. The plane had been mostly full of men when it picked Xander up in Ohio. The little isolation chamber was like a emergency field hospital's clean room, with a mattress on the floor as well as a few days of rations, both food and water, and a little sealable chemical toilet. Nearly everything was ziptied to weights to keep it steady. There was also a little headset that connected to a series of voice chat channels all the men could use to talk to one another. The main channel had been too hectic for Xander to stay in for more than a handful of minutes, but he'd eventually peeled off a couple of the men in the plane into a separate channel, and was able to both give them some information and get some on his own. All of the men on the plane had been gathered from cities in the central and eastern United States, and were being ferried out to partners, generally military but some in other branches of the government, and they weren't being let out of their isolation chambers until they'd been paired up with at least one woman, thus, the beds and the privacy curtains. At least a couple of the pods had not only men in them, but also a woman in the middle of the imprinting process . The government didn't want to risk the life of any man, so this was an emergency plan decided to keep as many people as they could safe. The two men Xander spent the afternoon talking with were Klaus, a 26 year old Master Sergeant from Georgia that Xander felt like was probably in special ops of some kind, and Bill, a 34 year old schoolteacher from Tennessee who was being paired up with a prominent Silicon Valley businesswoman he'd dated back in high school. Klaus clearly knew far more than he wanted to share with Xander and Bill, but he'd done his best to give the two men some information to make their journey a little less panic stricken. There were two women in the isolation chamber with Klaus, a twenty year old blonde named Olivia and a twenty two year old Korean American named Naya, or so Klaus told them, as both women were still in the middle of the imprinting process. The man was part of the security forces for the flying hospital that was transporting men and women around the country. He knew what he could and couldn't tell Xander and Bill, and just having a conversation with Klaus had made Xander feel more safe in their travels. He had a calm and casual demeanor to him while discussing how everything had been carefully planned, even if it all felt pretty slapdash. He couldn't answer all of their questions, for security reasons, but he told the two men that the airplane had basically been in motion nonstop for the last three weeks, doing its best to ferry people around the nation. Xander had asked him if it was truly necessary, only to be told how high the casualty rate was for men around the nation. Klaus had seen the stacks of bodies, and the man sounded rattled when he described the hundreds of empty apartments he'd seen in his native Queens, as the corpses had filled up dump trucks, and they'd had to conceal the bodies as they were taking them out in the dead of night. Klaus told them he'd been in a biohazard suit for most of the last week, but now that he had two partners, he would be able to go out and provide an escort for everyone going to and from the plane, although he planned to return to his isolation room with his two partners in between each stop they made. From Ohio they flew down to Nebraska, stopping at Offut Air Force Base, where they picked up a handful of soldiers and dropped off a handful of women. Bill had asked Klaus how long they'd been running these routes. Klaus said they'd been running for a few weeks now, and they were only one of five planes that were crisscrossing the nation. Olivia and Naya had both been brought into the inoculation center in Denver earlier and then swapped planes to meet up with him in New York, where they'd met up after he'd returned bringing in another stable of surviving men. All privacy had basically gone out the window. Klaus told him that most of the men had the option to wait until they were in a house or an apartment or something, but Klaus had been told by his commanding officer that they couldn't spare him that much time, so he needed to just get on with his business on the plane so he could get back to work as soon as he was done. By the time they'd touched down at McCarran Airport in Las Vegas, Bill had been just about ready to break out into full fledged panic, between the constant shift in air pressure, the take offs and landings done without proper seatbelts and his inability to go anywhere that wasn't his little sealed off compartment, but a quick talking to from Xander had gotten the man to cool down at least a little bit. They were barely on the ground in Nevada an hour, taking people off and bringing new people on, as well as refueling the plan, before taking off again, landing at Oakland airport a few hours later under the cover of night. Their cellphones had been taken from them when they'd arrived at the plane, so Xander had been forced to guess at the time, but he would've placed their arrival in Oakland at something around 2 a.m. or so, although the lock in had made it impossible to use traffic as a gauge. In Oakland, everyone had been taken from their individual compartments and loaded onto a large troop transport truck, with no caution given to cross contamination or infection, as they were all told they would be getting paired up within a few hours, so even if they caught DuoHalo now, it wouldn't matter. Xander had been concerned by that but he had decided to go along with it, because Klaus seemed to consider the whole thing fine, and he was the one loading people onto the trucks. The trucks had ferried them from Oakland up to a staging area next to the lab near Mount Diablo, just adjacent to New Eden, and once there, they'd been introduced to their new partners and from there, sorted into where they were going to go. The building they were using as a staging area felt like a converted aircraft hangar, with a high curved metal ceiling and big fluorescent lights hanging high above them. Although there were some tented parts of the space, similar to what had been inside the cargo hold of the airplane that had brought him here, most of the space was open, with long painted striped lines on the ground, leading people through the processing. Men weren't being given any injections, something Xander had thought was odd, until all the men were given a five minute lecture on "Your New Reality," something that the men were told to take deadly seriously. The lecture included basic things like how they would be receiving their vaccinations (sexually transmitted from their new partners), how their partners would need sexual satisfaction about once a week or so, how their semen would be toxic to any woman they weren't paired with, and how if they ever felt like they were coming down with the symptoms of DuoHalo they should have sex with one of their partners immediately, which would resolve them. At the point when the men had been told that their semen would be toxic to any woman they weren't paired with, a handful of the men had quietly jeered and rolled their eyes, but the next slide in the presentation showed a wound on a woman's arm that had silenced all that nonsense quickly. The end of the lecture included a video message from President Pelosi, urging the men to consider fatherhood like a new version of the World War 2 draft,  every man needed to do his service to help save the country. Extensive tax breaks and financial aid would be provided to families with multiple children, it was stressed. The country needed to be rebuilt. As soon as the lecture was done, they'd been marched single file to a series of processing windows, over a dozen clerks taking people's names and social security numbers before assigning them a holding area to head over to, where they would meet their partners. A sticker was placed on their chest before they were sent on their way. It had all felt very assembly line, as if there wasn't time for kindness or courtesies, and people were simply being pushed through the grinder as quickly as possible. Klaus had joked around with them on the ride over that while it might seem rough, it was being done for optimal performance in getting people in and through the system and into their new lives, wherever they may be. Xander had heard several different locations mentioned,  the San Jose highrises, the Stanford campus, the Berkeley campus, the SF towers, the Altamont sprawl, the Tracy ghosttown,  but when it came time for him to be told where to go, he was told he wouldn't need to go far, as he was being assigned to Dos Eden, the first expansion zone to New Eden. He'd been given four partners on site, with one more to be waiting for him at the location. They'd been waiting for him in the holding area assigned to him, each having arrived sometime over the previous day, so they'd all had a chance to get to know one another. Letting the women have some time to bond in advance of the man's arrival seemed smart to Xander, as they could size each other up without having to worry about keeping their new mate's attention. The women had also been given their injections in the holding area, and so Xander assumed the spaces had also doubled as observation areas, making sure none of the women had suffered any adverse reactions to their injections the day before. Captain Betsy Ross had turned out to be a complete knockout, a blonde pint size pocket rocket dynamo who was training men nearly twice her size in hand to hand close quarters combat, and they had clicked immediately, almost as if they were custom made for each other. She'd kissed him hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet before he'd even been able to say hello. The second woman had been Serena Ortiz, a Latina woman in her late twenties who was a U.S. Marshall, and had built a career out of tracking down fugitives. Tall and statuesque, she had a certain grace to how she'd moved, he'd noticed immediately. She'd spent the past few hours talking with Betsy before Xander's arrival, and the two already had a friendly relationship, having bonded over the fact that they could both kick Xander's ass if needed. The third was a slender blonde woman in her late 30s who had looked hauntingly familiar before her introduction, but Xander had struggled to place her, even after she identified herself as Alicia Geller. When she'd told Xander that he would likely know the role she'd played in her youth, Rascal Rachel, that had made it all come together immediately. Alicia was a child actress who had been the star of a popular kids show until she'd grown out of it and the show had been canceled. Instead of continuing acting, she had retired from show business and gone into education, teaching history to high school students. She seemed a little shy, but had assured him that once they'd had time to get to know one another, she would come out of her shell. The final one on site had been Brooke, and she'd detailed the story to him how her friend Piper was paired up with Andy, and that they had recommended Brooke pair up with Xander, so she had. She'd been wearing a Shelby GT Cobra necklace when they met, and Xander had known it was going to work out just fine. A second sticker was placed on his chest and the girls were told to stay with him, as everyone was sorted into lines and sent towards trucks. Most of the trucks were large troop transports, but Xander had been surprised to see that the vehicle he and his partners were set to was much smaller, and they were the only group loaded up onto it. He'd felt a little bad, since really they could've just been loaded up into an Escalade, him, his four new partners and the MP driving them over to their new home. On the way over, the MP delivered the final set of instructions to Xander, as to why his fifth partner hadn't been waiting for him at the base and was, instead, at the new home. Her name was KC Kadrey, and she was a 20 year old Vietnamese American student over at Stanford, studying mechanical engineering. She'd needed to get her injections a couple of days prior, and there had been some concerns that she might simply just grab the first man she saw and go after him, so she'd been taken to their new home and allowed to settle in. But, the MP warned him, it meant that she might be a bit intense when they arrived. She'd also brought her golden retriever with her, and keeping the large dog at the staging area had seemed problematic. Xander, like all the men who'd been on the airplane, had been forced to travel light, a single wheelie suitcase all he'd been allowed to bring with him. All of his things that had been picked up in Ohio would show up at some point within the next few weeks as the truck conveying them drove cross country, but until they, he would have to make due with the things he had. Xander had been forced to argue with the people picking him up that the one car he'd been restoring, a black 1970 Barracuda, would be part of the things taken to his new home, and while the discussion had gotten a little heated, eventually the people picking him up had relented and loaded it into the truck with the rest of his stuff. Each of the women had a similar amount of things with them, and when they arrived at their new home, they all felt woefully unprepared. Dos Eden was technically part of New Eden, but it was an expansion to the original enclave, and the dwellings there were much more of nice houses than they were the sorts of mansions and manors that made up New Eden itself. The MP driving them over had said she lived in Dos Eden, and she was incredibly thankful, as it meant having a family was a distinct possibility, while the people in many of the other locations were going to be doing lots of relocating and readjusting over the next few years. Those in the tower condo buildings were generally being given an entire floor to themselves, and as needed walls would be knocked down and units combined as families expanded. The views were nice, the MP told them, but it just didn't feel like a home. When they pulled up to the house just around dawn, Xander was a little surprised by it. They had told him not to expect a grandiose mansion, but the home was far nicer than any place he'd ever lived in before, a two story building with five bedrooms and four bathrooms, so not enough that each person had their own bedroom, but they would make it work, all of them agreed. It was mostly glass walls, and Xander found himself thankful for the ring of trees, and the high fences, that would provide him with at least a little privacy from his neighbors, who were only a short walk away on either side. It had a three car garage, and Xander was told there were new Teslas charging inside for them. (Xander immediately planned to turn one of the three garage spaces into his own little workshop where he'd continue restoring the Barracuda.) The driveway was long enough that they would be able to comfortably fit at least four more cars out front if needed. The place had its own pool with hot tub, however, something Xander was astonished to find. He'd never lived in a place with a pool before, and now his home had one. They'd barely gotten in the door before KC had rushed Xander, practically mauling him with love in the entry way to the home. She'd been coherent enough to talk with him, the two of them moving into the master bedroom before he'd had sex with her and she'd fallen into her imprinting process. The other girls had moved into the bedroom somewhere in the middle of their tryst and Betsy had immediately insisted on going second, having stripped down while watching Xander and KC. Alicia had gone third, leaving him with only Serena and Brooke conscious. The three of them had taken a shower together, and somewhere in the middle of the shower, Serena had decided she couldn't wait any further, and had gone through part of the process in the shower and the rest bent over the bathroom countertop. As much as he wanted to, he told Brooke that he was going to need a while before he could imprint her, his entire body more than a little exhausted, as the chemicals from the four women had been flowing through his bloodstream, giving him immunity from DuoHalo and doing some rather significant changes to his body. Brooke had laughed and just suggested they go over to visit Andy and Piper, which brought them up to now. "Fuckin' hell," Andy laughed. "No fucking wonder you look exhausted, Xan. How much have you slept in the last two days?" "Oh, we took a nap after we settled into the house, and I slept a bit on the plane while it was hauling our asses through the skies," his best friend said with a chuckle. "So yeah not as much as I should but more than I do some days. Was your experience similar, Fi?" Fiona's journey had been very similar, with her and Moira catching an earlier flight out of Washington a few days ago, although their plane had made only one additional stop before landing in Oakland, their plane having gone straight from Washington D.C. to Los Angeles, where many of the men in the chambers had been unloaded and several women had been loaded on board. Because Fi and Moira had been traveling together, they'd had each other to talk with and neither had felt especially lonely during the voyage. Fi even admitted they had spent much of the time talking about Andy, speculating how much he might or might not have changed over the years. As the hour grew late, Brooke returned to the main room with Piper, suggesting she and Xander head home, reminding the two old friends that they now lived less than fifteen minutes apart, and could see each other as often as they wanted to, but Andy and Xander still hugged for a long minute, thankful to have reconnected on the other side of the disaster, before they walked the two to the door and sent them home. Several of the girls had peeled off and gone to bed over the course of the evening, and at the end of the night, the only people still awake were Andy, Piper and Sarah. Aisling had been the very last to go to bed before reminding Sarah not to stay up too late, otherwise she would be too tired to talk to Maya when she arrived tomorrow, but Sarah had laughed it off and dismissed it. After closing the door behind Xander, he walked back down stairs, intending to clean up the remaining empty beer bottles and glasses left behind in the living room, only to find that Nicolette had beaten him to it, having cleaned it all up and then disappearing into her room for the night, so he couldn't even say thank you to her. "I swear, we've got a ninja for a French maid around this house," he muttered to himself with amusement. Huginn, his black cat, stood up from his perch on the back of one of the couches, stretched by arching his back, then moved to sit back down exactly where he was. "I feel ya, bud," he agreed with the cat. "We should probably see about getting to bed, don't you think, ladies?" Piper shook her head, pushing Andy back to sit down on the couch. "Not for a bit. You can sleep when you're dead," she said with a grin. "Don't you agree, Sarah?" "Oh totally," the tall redhead said, moving to slide in to one side of Andy on the couch. "You lose one third of your life sleeping, well, I mean I guess you don't really lose it since you have to sleep otherwise you'll go insane, but it's, like, a lot a lot of time to be spending doing just one thing." "Besides, I have to say thank you for making sure you brought my best friend to be nearby so I didn't feel so lonely all the time," Piper said, peeling her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside, leaving her in a sports bra and tight fitted blue jeans, her toned stomach bared to the cool night air. "We've been kinda dancing around each other for the last few weeks, Andy, and I don't want you to think I'm not grateful, because I'm very thankful for all the things you've done for me since we've met." "Piper, you don't have  " he started before she lifted her hand up to cover his mouth, "Andy, enough," she giggled. "You can just say 'you're welcome' when you're being thanked for something, you know. You don't have to try and play down the work that went into it." He smirked a little bit, as she pulled her hand back. "I just don't want you to feel like you owe me anything." "Oh, but Andy, I do owe you," she said, bending down to press a kiss to his lips, just a soft and quick one. "You got me away from that asshole Covington. When I couldn't think straight, you did everything you could to bring me back to being me again, and that's not something anyone would do." She inhaled the scent of him, and he could swear he saw her pupils dilate a little in response. "You remember how I told you I could smell you from far away? I still can, but the raw musk of you is even more intense up close, and I fucking love how you smell, you sexy bastard. It makes me feel warm and safe and gooey and sticky and protected all at once. And I know that at least some of that is just the chemicals flowing through my brain bonding me to you, but you know what?" She leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe a little bit. "I've decided that I don't fucking care why I feel how I feel. I feel how I feel and that's all that fucking matters. You've kept me safe. You've given me space when I wanted it, and been happy to talk with me when I needed that. You helped me get my friend here and kept her safe, and as soon as you thought it was time, you pushed my ass to get back to work and reminded me not to give up on my dreams. So don't you dare fucking tell me I don't have to repay you, because even if you don't think that I do, I do, and I want to." "You're the only one of the girls who says she can smell me anywhere in the house, Piper," he told her. "I hope that's not a sign that anything's wrong because Covington held off so long on letting you get imprinted after the injections." "Oh, there's nothing wrong with me, Andy," she purred, unbuttoning her jeans before pushing them down to her ankles, not having bothered to put shoes on earlier, stepping out of them and her panties, leaving her in just the sports bra. She had such an athletic body that it had a tendency to make Andy feel a little ashamed of how out of shape he was. "I'm just different, that's all. Being able to smell you when you're in the house? I consider that a benefit, not a side effect. I get a little anxious when you leave and I can't smell you, not so much that it bothers me, but just enough that I notice the feeling of longing I have that you aren't on hand. And I've reread that letter you left me over a dozen times, because each time, I think I fall for you a little more." She grinned, grabbing her sports bra, pulling it up over her head, tossing it aside. "So yeah, I was scared of saying that, but I'm definitely falling for you, Andrew Rook. Falling in love with you. That's why I was so deep in thought the other morning. You didn't do anything to make me upset or angry. I just was worried about how to tell you." "Piper, Why would you be worried?" Andy said with a kind smile. "You've got so many beautiful women here, Andy," she said, gesturing back to the house. "I mean, shit, you've got Sarah Fucking Washington with her arm around you right now! I know I'm fit, but I'm not beautiful like she and Em are." At that, he raised a single finger, pointing at her. "How dare you," he said, his tone evening a little bit. "You are fucking stunning, I mean beautiful like you cannot even imagine and I do not want to hear you saying you're not beautiful ever again, okay? Because whatever dumb ass boyfriend or athlete you met who said you weren't pretty was the biggest fucking moron you ever met, and you shouldn't give whatever that prick said another thought ever again. Tell her I'm right, Sarah," he said with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Yep yep yep," Sarah said with a giggle. "Stop being fucking stupid because you're not just pretty, you're fucking hot, and every girl in this house who likes girls thinks so. Shit, I heard Katie telling Jenny that if she wanted to give her a hall pass for her birthday, she'd want to use it on you over all the other girls in the house." Piper giggled, shaking her head, her dark hair covering her eyes for a minute. "You're fucking lying, Sarah." "Cross my fucking heart, swear to fucking God, may she strike me the fuck down if I'm lying. Katie thinks you're the hottest bitch in the house, so you need to shut the fuck up about saying you aren't fucking pretty because that's the stupidest fucking thing anyone's said today, and people talk, like, the worst amount of shit in this house when they think people aren't listening," Sarah said, rolling her eyes, as if she found the whole thing hilariously sad. "Well, that's something I wouldn't have believed if you hadn't told me," Piper replied with a smile. "And I was talking about us dancing around each other, Andy, and I want to apologize for that. I know we've had a handful of encounters, but I've been, guarded, and I'm sorry for how guarded I've been emotionally. I think maybe I was a little hurt that you didn't want to bring Brooke into this house, even though I know you said you thought she'd be a better match with Xander. I thought maybe that was a polite way of you trying to duck out of meeting her,” She looked down at her feet. "I feel a bit guilty about that right now, having spent a bunch of the evening talking with her. I have known that girl almost half a de

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.

Today, Matt and Todd take on the 1997 disaster epic Volcano, starring Tommy Lee Jones, Anne Heche, Keith David, and Don Cheadle; directed by Mick Jackson. Volcano is a classic '90s disaster flick, packed with dialogue that'll have you rolling your eyes; though they'll come right back around to some great effects and pure chaos.Rotten Tomatoes almost has it right, with an average score of 5.10/10. The site's critical consensus reads: "Volcano's prodigious pyrotechnics and Tommy Lee Jones' crotchety sneers at lava aren't quite enough to save this routine disaster film."Well, in this episode, Matt and I challenge that take with our own firmly grounded "Nuh-uh!" Okay, maybe not entirely. But our main takeaway? Volcano's prodigious pyrotechnics and Tommy Lee Jones' crotchety sneers ARE just enough to save this routine disaster film.So there!Volcano is a throwback spectacle. Volcano is completely 90s with cringeworthy dialogue, some truly gruesome moments that could stick with you, and enough chaotic fun to make that spare popcorn disappear. Tommy Lee Jones in peak '90s anger mode, plus a scale block getting torn up, blown up, melted, burned—pure chaos. You'll learn nothing, but you'll have a blast watching it go down.Matt reviews and ranks more movies including newer ones at ⁠Letterboxd⁠You can find out what he's following on Bluesky @MovieMattSirois.bsky.socialCheck out favorites of what we follow, at: ⁠⁠⁠Once Upon a Geek⁠⁠⁠⁠ and  ⁠⁠⁠⁠The Fade Out Podcast⁠⁠ As Marcus he reviews all sorts of films but unlike here, they often they range from bad, worse, or terrible at the ⁠⁠⁠⁠MovieAsylum of the Weird, Bad and Wonderful⁠.

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

ISRAEL ROLLS INTO LEBANON TO TAKE OUT HEZBOLLAH We talked about Israel making a very clear choice to execute their war the way they see fit and today they are moving into Lebanon according to Israel, while Hezbollah is all like Nuh-uh. Israel is warning people in southern Lebanon to head north of the Awali River, which is about 36 miles into Lebanon. This is beyond the Litani River which was the northern border of the area the United Nations was supposed to be monitoring after Israel's 2006 war with Lebanon, which they clearly have not. Israel is being accused of lying about the incursion, as they were accused of lying about going into Gaza to bait Hamas into war (I think October 7th showed they didn't need to be baited into war) so we'll have to wait and see what happens. Israel has already been doing missions into Lebanon with small groups of soldiers to check out the tunnel system and gather intelligence for the incursion. This while Netanyahu is making less than veiled threats against Iranian leadership in a video message to the Iranian people that regime change will come faster than they might think and that Israel and Persians will live in peace when that happens. I hope he's right but I'll believe it when I see it. Cliff May from the Foundation for the Defense of Democracies joins me at 12:30 to discuss it.

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