Podcasts about OW

The May box office is thriving ahead of a summer filled with exciting blockbusters, having surpassed $1 billion for the first time since 2019. Sophia and Nick will definitely be reviewing those upcoming films in the following months, but on this episode, they're taking it back to all of the new films they haven't yet discussed this year. Blame a long Oscar season or a rich Cannes festival, but they're back with an OW favorite, Nom or Bomb, to recap 30 films that have captured audiences so far in 2026. Which movies will they continue to talk about later this year and into 2027? Listen to find out! Follow us on Twitter, Instagram, Bluesky, and TikTok @oscarwildpodFollow Sophia @sophia_cimFollow Nick @sauerkraut27Become a patron and listen to more content at patreon.com/OscarWild Find updated predictions and merch @ oscarwild.squarespace.comMusic: “The Greatest Adventure” by Jonathan Adamich

It's open water season in the Northern Hemisphere, and the questions are flooding in. This week Coach Rob answers the most common athlete questions about moving your swimming out of the pool and into the lake or sea ahead of your first IRONMAN or 70.3.In this episode:When to make the switch to open water, and the simple rule for timing it What to actually practice once you're there: sighting drills, drafting technique, relaxed starts, turn buoys, and a clean wetsuit exitWhy you might be slower in open water than the poolWhether to do your endurance swim in the OW or the poolHow to choose the right start pen on a rolling-start race day* * * * * * *SPONSORS* * * * * * * *Thinking about your first Ironman or 70.3 in 2026? At ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Team Oxygenaddict,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ we specialise in helping busy professionals fit high-quality training around demanding jobs and family life. We've just reopened for new athletes with only a handful of slots available. Book an application call today to find out if you'd be a good fit for Team Oxygenaddict for the coming season here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://team.oxygenaddict.com/consultation-call/ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠* * * * * * * * * * * *⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠precisionfuelandhydration.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Precision Fuel & Hydration help athletes personalise their hydration and fuelling strategies for training and racing. Use the free ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Fuel & Hydration Planner⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to get a personalised race nutrition plan for your next event. And then⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ book a free 20-minute video consultation⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ with a member of the PF&H Athlete Support Team to refine your strategy.Listeners get 15% off their first order of fuel and electrolytes with Precision Fuel & Hydration. Simply use code OXYGEN26 at checkout to claim your 15% discount

WAHHEYYYHallo! Ow do?!WELCOME TO INDIE AF - An AF marketing chat special! Sarah Golding here - hello! I am Just coming out of a true busy creator period of producing directing and voice acting annddd interviews for this ere show. Am Delighted today to introduce the truly wonderful Joe Swenson of BROKEN ARTS ENTERTAINMENT who put out around 125 episodes a year!!! WOOOOOOWWWThat sounds insaneWe explore what Joe does to build community for Broken Arts, and how they market and utilise social media to get folks to know their show - some key info about BE - Across platforms they have 25,000 followers! 9000 insta followersSocial media Tips - be everywherePost consistently on YouTubeEncouraging their Actors to promote their worksThey had 1.2 million engagements last year - next year aim for 2 million and utilising Patreon! Think about your # use! WE CHAT ON …i.e. tagging #strangerthingfollowers if your show is a little similar in vibe! WHATTTT to putt out on the socialsBTS SEEMS POPULARLIVE SHOWS GAIN TRACTION - GO BIG!ONGOING OPEN FUNDING THROUGH SEED AND SPARKHYDRATE HYDRATE HYDRATEHow how howww to get feedback!  Ahh Engagement! THE VOID IS DEEP AND LARGE LARGE LARGE large lar la lHURRAY FOR THE NEW JERSEY WEBFESTONLINE PODCAST PUBLICATIONS YOU HAVE TO HIT! Joe shouts about The brilliance of some core BAE team>>>Hannah Lee  Defrates - VPEmily Morse Lee - IMDBBernie Horton - Marketing ManagerCathy Tran - Graphic DesignerAND NO AI NOW ALLOWED! We talked all things> Marketing plans - intentional and unintentional> How they market>Community awesome>Being ambitious>Taking risksShows you can listen toA FRAGILE MINDCHIASE THE BEARJUSTIN THYMEWILLOW HAVENAnd so much more on this sitehttps://brokenartsentertainment.com/entertainment-hub/original-series/Things team BE use for socials>>>UPSPLASH UNSPLASHMOTION ARRAYJoe promoted the art of ‘STAYING RELEVANT' - it seems key and hitting big event days - ie Shakespeare days and anniversaries of note that you market well can bring folks in.Please feel free to pop on to the links below to Joe and his teams worksThank you again for my lovely Patreon supporters - gosh you truly are amazing and I appreciate your awesome very very much! If you want to join them and pin in a few dollars a month to support this work, feel freeee! Happy Creating all!SarahxShows and people we mentioned - find and follow! Gathering by the GaslightTheatrical ShenanIgansMidnight BurgerNightvaleAllison CossittDavid AultAlastair Stuart new letter the full lidFiction Podcast News Weekly #LindsayIsAmazingTHE ENDAUDIO FICTION UK FILM FREEWAYLINKS TO JOES WORKS OF GROOVYBroken Arts Entertainment StaffBroken Arts EntertainmentBroken Arts Entertainment on SpotifyBroken Arts Entertainment on YouTubeBroken Arts Entertainment on InstagramBroken Arts Entertainment on FacebookWHY HAVENT I GIVEN ATTENTION AUDIODRAMA - OS LITERALLY THE SKY IS THE LIMITLET'S BREAK THROUGH THE SKYYYYYYSarah's links of audio joy⁠⁠⁠⁠SARAH BLUESKY⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠SARAH LINKTREE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠QUIRKY VOICES PATREON⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ADWIT PODCAST⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠WIRELESS THEATRE⁠

You can listen wherever you get your podcasts or check out the fully edited transcript of our interview at the bottom of this post.In this episode of The Peaceful Parenting Podcast, my guest is Dr. Justin Coulson, an Australian parenting expert and father of 6 who has his PhD in psychology and is the author of 10 books on parenting and the co-host of the Happy Families podcast with his wife, Kylie. We discuss the psychology behind peaceful parenting, including how self-determination theory explains kids' challenging behavior. Dr. Justin also shared his three E's of discipline.Know someone who might appreciate this episode? Share it with them!And if you love the podcast, FREE ways to help us out:1- Rate and review the podcast in your podcast player app2- “Like” this post by tapping the heart icon ♥️3- Share this with a friend. THANK YOU!We talk about:* 1:45 – Introduction to Dr. Justin Coulson and his personal parenting turning pointHow struggles with anger and discipline led him to rethink everything and study psychology.* 08:20 – Learning to regulate ourselves, practicing repair, and growing over time.* 15:50 – Why peaceful parenting starts with the parent's self-awareness and regulation.* 19:50 – Understanding behavior through compassion and curiosity.* 20:50 – The HALTS frameworkHow hunger, anger, loneliness, tiredness, and stress impact children's behavior.* 23:00 – Self-determination theory and parenting* 33:00 – The 3 E's of Effective Discipline* 41:50 – How to use the 3 E's in everyday parenting moments.Real-life examples: screens, sibling conflict & collaboration* 49:00 – Building trust and the “goodwill bank” with kidsWhy collaborative parenting pays off when tough limits are needed.* 53:30 – Advice to his younger parenting self: “soft eyes”A powerful reflection on kindness, connection, and showing up with compassion.* 56:30 – Where to find Dr. Justin CoulsonHis podcast, books, and upcoming work on boys and healthy masculinity.Resources mentioned in this episode:* Dr. Justin's website and podcast* Yoto Screen Free Audio Book Player* The Peaceful Parenting Membership* Evelyn & Bobbie brasConnect with Sarah Rosensweet:* Instagram* Facebook Group* YouTube* Website* Join us on Substack* Newsletter* Book a short consult or coaching session callxx Sarah and CoreyYour peaceful parenting team- click here for a free short consult or a coaching sessionVisit our website for free resources, podcast, coaching, membership and more!>> Please support us!!! Please consider becoming a supporter to help support our free content, including The Peaceful Parenting Podcast, our free parenting support Facebook group, and our weekly parenting emails, “Weekend Reflections” and “Weekend Support” - plus our Flourish With Your Complex Child Summit (coming back in the summer for the 3rd year!) All of this free support for you takes a lot of time and energy from me and my team. If it has been helpful or meaningful for you, your support would help us to continue to provide support for free, for you and for others.In addition to knowing you are supporting our mission to support parents and children, you get the podcast ad free and access to a monthly ‘ask me anything' session.Our sponsors:YOTO: YOTO is a screen free audio book player that lets your kids listen to audiobooks, music, podcasts and more without screens, and without being connected to the internet. No one listening or watching and they can't go where you don't want them to go and they aren't watching screens. BUT they are being entertained or kept company with audio that you can buy from YOTO or create yourself on one of their blank cards. Check them out HEREEvelyn & Bobbie bras: If underwires make you want to rip your bra off by noon, Evelyn & Bobbie is for you. These bras are wire-free, ultra-soft, and seriously supportive—designed to hold you comfortably all day without pinching, poking, or constant adjusting. Check them out HERESarah: Hey, everyone. Welcome back to another episode of the Peaceful Parenting Podcast. Today's guest is Dr. Justin Coulson. He's an Australian parenting expert with a PhD in psychology, the author of 10 books on parenting, the co-host of the Happy Families podcast with his wife, Kylie, the father of six children, and, last but not least, grandfather of one.We discuss the psychology behind peaceful parenting, including how self-determination theory explains kids' challenging behavior. Dr. Justin also shared his three E's of discipline, which I just loved.If you like this episode, please share it with a friend so more parents can learn about peaceful parenting. If you're a fan of the podcast, you can help us out not only by sharing it, but by leaving a review and a five-star rating in your podcast player app. While you're there, don't forget to follow the show so you don't miss an episode.If you'd like to support us even more, you can become a supporter on Substack to help us offset the cost of making the show. We'll put a link in the show notes.Let's meet Dr. Justin. I hope you enjoy this conversation and get as much out of his insights as I did.Sarah: Hello, Dr. Justin, and welcome to the podcast.Dr. Justin: Sarah, I'm so glad to be with you. Thanks for having me on.Sarah: Yeah, and it's morning for you, evening for me—nice—and I'm just glad that we could make this time to talk to each other. I really appreciate it. Thank you. So, could you just tell us a little bit about who you are and what you do?Dr. Justin: Sure. I grew up on the east coast of Australia, about an hour north of Sydney. Geographically, that kind of locates where I was. I was the teenage boy that every parent hopes they will not have. I don't think I was a particularly bad kid, but I certainly wasn't a good kid.My parents were spending a small fortune—I'm a 1975 baby, I turned 50 last year—but this was in the late '80s and early '90s. My parents were spending so much money to send me to a private school. Because we were on the coast—a very quintessentially Australian thing—I was wagging school.Do you say “wagging school” in Canada? Is that a term Canadians use?Sarah: No, but I think we get the context. I think it means not going to school.Dr. Justin: Yeah, I was truant. They thought I was there, but I wasn't.Sarah: We say skipping.Dr. Justin: I was skipping school. Okay, yeah. We call it a school wag.So I would go to school in the morning and get my name marked off in roll call. Then I would sneak out of the school. Across the road from the school, there were bushes—kind of a forest, or whatever you might call it in Canada and America. I would get changed out of my tie, long pants, and black school shoes, throw on some board shorts and a T-shirt.My surfboard was stashed in the bush, and I'd grab it from the hiding place. Then I'd jump on a bus, go to the beach, and surf all day. Afterward, I'd get a bus back to school in the afternoon, change back into my uniform, and race into the school just in time to get my name marked off, looking like I'd been at school all day.This was in the days before schools communicated with parents via email and text, because none of that existed. I was able to get away with it.So I finished high school. I scored in the bottom 15%—Sarah: Goodness.Dr. Justin: Not just my class, but of the entire state of New South Wales. My parents were devastated.I didn't care. I wanted to have a media career. I wanted to be a radio announcer. So I got into radio. If you've ever listened to the radio—and no offense to radio people—you know you don't have to do well at school to be good at radio. You just have to be able to sit on the microphone and say things that make sense.I knew I could do that, so school didn't matter to me. I didn't care about it. That's what I did.But this is where it intersects with parenting.About 10 years into my radio career, my wife and I were having some challenges, particularly around my parenting. We had a threenager and a newborn baby.That three-year-old—I had always held the opinion that my children would do as they were told, and if they didn't, I would make sure they understood that I was the father and that their job was to do as I said.So I was very punitive. I basically made all of the parenting mistakes you can imagine when I would get angry, frustrated, and ill-tempered. It's not that I was a bad father—I spent a lot of high-quality time loving my kids—but I was also really short-fused and highly aggressive.Frankly, I went from threatening to hitting really fast. You call it spanking; we would call it smacking. I was very, very quick to smack or spank my three-year-old, and it wasn't working.After one particularly bad incident where things escalated, I really did lose control. I didn't just spank her once. There were multiple spankings. This was like a 10-minute escalation session where it just got worse and worse and worse.My wife was out at the time. When she came home, I said to Kylie, “I'm a bad father. I'm not doing this well. I'm making a lot of mistakes, and here's what happened while you were out.”Full confession: Kylie has always been this wonderfully supportive wife—very kind, gentle, compassionate, soft-spoken, thoughtful, considerate, empathic—all of those beautiful attributes that I prize and treasure in my good wife.She was none of those things that day.She had fire in her eyes and said, “You are not living up to the father that I hoped you would be, and you're also not living up to the husband I need you to be.”And it took me back, because I was already feeling downcast. I felt like I was failing anyway, and she just—it was like she picked up a great big lump of wood and whacked me over the head with it and said, “No.”Of course, she didn't actually do that, but that's how it felt. It felt physical. Visceral. Like, Ow. This is serious.I left my radio career shortly thereafter.I was working at one of the biggest radio stations in Australia at the time, and I gave up all the backstage passes with global superstars and hanging out with record company executives at the best restaurants, eating their food so they could bribe me to play their music on the radio station. I went back to school.I became a full-time student. I worked part-time at three different jobs while studying full-time. I'd sleep under the desk at university so I could do the study and the work—Sarah: No surfing this time?Dr. Justin: No surfing this time, no. I was just so committed to it.After eight and a half years of full-time study, I graduated with a doctorate. I had to do a couple of other qualifications first, including a psychological science degree. I graduated with a doctorate in psychology and became a university lecturer.Along the way, Sarah, we went from having our two kids at that point to having our third child in my first year of study, our fourth child in my fifth year of study, and our fifth child while I was doing my doctorate. Shortly after I left the university setting, stopped lecturing, and started writing books and giving talks, we had our sixth child.So we're the parents—Sarah: Amazing.Dr. Justin: —of six daughters. Today, they range in age from 12—the youngest—to the oldest, who is in her mid-to-late 20s. She and her husband have a baby now. They've been married for a few years.Sarah: Wow. You're a grandpa.Dr. Justin: A grand—I'm a grandpa. We have a two-and-a-half-year-old grandbaby, four adult children, one in her teens, and a 12-year-old.So that's kind of my very short version of the journey.Along the way, I've written a bunch of books. We've got a TV show in Australia called Parental Guidance. We've had three seasons of that show on primetime TV. I've got a website and all the things that you'd expect—a podcast and so on.Sarah: What did you do when you had that aha moment—that realization that you weren't being the kind of dad you wanted to be, and your wife also agreed that you weren't being the kind of dad she wanted you to be? What did you change?Because you just mentioned that you spent eight and a half years going back to school. I imagine that you made some changes before you had six kids. So what did you do right away, maybe for anyone listening who can relate to those feelings of rage and feeling triggered by your child?Dr. Justin: Sarah, the first thing I'd say is that there was no linear change, and there were no immediate changes, because I didn't know what to do.I was unskilled. I was uneducated. I didn't know anything about psychology, and I clearly didn't know anything about parenting.But I found a mentor. I have a faith background, and there was a writer who wrote eloquently and compassionately. I just felt like he understood me, and he became a mentor to me.I also discovered a guy called Alfie Kohn. You might be familiar with Alfie Kohn.Sarah: Oh, Alfie Kohn was the first thing I ever read about parenting—Dr. Justin: Oh, great.Sarah: —before I even had kids. And he was on the podcast last year, which felt like a full-circle moment between how influential—I told him on the podcast, “You have probably had the biggest influence on me—not only in my parenting, but in my life's direction—of any single person out there.”So, sorry, fan-girl moment. I'm right there with you with Alfie Kohn.Dr. Justin: Yeah. I've gotten to know Alfie over the years as my academic career advanced and I began to understand where he took his research from.I read his book Punished by Rewards—I think it was a 1993—Sarah: That was my first one too.Dr. Justin: Yeah, it's a 1993 publication or something.Sarah, it was just so influential.What happened was, I was doing my university degree and learning things, and honestly, I'd be sitting there thinking, Hang on, the things they're teaching me in these university courses seem to clash with what Alfie Kohn taught me in Punished by Rewards.So I spent a lot of time in the notes section at the back—you know, all the references nobody ever reads?Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: As I went through them, I discovered researchers named Edward Deci and Richard Ryan from the University of Rochester in upstate New York.They had developed a theory known as self-determination theory.A large portion of Alfie Kohn's work is based on self-determination theory.So I really dug deep into that. I still love Alfie, but I moved very much into the academic side because I became a university lecturer and really got into the nitty-gritty of understanding the deepest depths of what self-determination theory is all about. That has become the foundation of the work that I do.And to your question: nothing is linear when you are trying to make improvements.Whether you're trying to change your diet, exercise, get your finances in order, or improve your relationships, you have insights. You have moments where you think, Oh my goodness, this is what I need to do. I need to show up with warmth on my face and soft eyes.And then three hours later, one of your children does something, and you forget what soft eyes look and feel like. You look at them with hard eyes, frustration in your voice, and short, clipped sentences.Then half an hour later, you think, Oh, self-awareness. I missed that.So it's this gradual process: two steps forward, one step back. Three steps forward, one step back. Four steps forward, three steps back. Eight steps forward, no steps back.Over the years, I had this beautiful experience—and maybe you've had a similar experience in your family as you've raised your kids.We were maybe in my third or fourth year of study. My wife has an early childhood background. She knows child development. She knows what kids need.She was a little skeptical about a lot of the things I was starting to talk about and discover as I went through university and got into the depths of what the research meant—comparing and contrasting it with what was mainstream, but actually not always quite right.We had some tension around how we should respond to the children. I was moving away from that authoritarian bent and developing ideas around exploring their world more.One night, I came home from university a little late. It was probably around 9:00 p.m. Our three children were still awake.As I drove into the driveway, all the lights in the house were on. The windows were open. Looking through the living room window, I could tell the house was—to put it politely—a mess.And as I stepped into the house, the kids—it was just awful.I walked over to Kylie and said, “Honey, it looks like it's been a pretty tough day.”I was trying to be compassionate and empathic. I was really trying to do what psychology says is the right thing to do.Kylie looked at me without hesitation and said, “Don't give me any of that psychology crap. I've had the worst day in the world.”Then she stormed out and said, “You fix it,” and walked into the bedroom and closed the door.Again, this is not how my wife usually is, but it had been a really rough day. The kids were feral. The house was a mess.I looked at my priorities. I sat down with the child who was struggling the most and worked with her for two or three minutes. She calmed down, I gave her a little food, and put her to bed.Within about 20 minutes, I had all three kids in bed, and I was so proud of myself.I stepped into the kitchen and started tidying up. I thought, I'll just give Kylie some space.After another 30 or 40 minutes of tidying, I stepped into the living room and said, “Honey, I know you're really upset. It's been a pretty tough day. I wasn't trying to be judgy or anything.”And she said, “It's fine for you. You're not dealing with it all day. You walk in and think you can just snap your fingers and everything's fine.”Then she looked at me and said, “But tonight, you walked in and it feels like you snapped your fingers and everything's fine.”And we had this beautiful conversation where she said, “I've been resenting the things you've been trying to tell me because it felt like you were telling me I was wrong.“But I've been watching, and I'm actually seeing that the things you're doing are working, and our family is feeling better.”It took four or five years to get there, Sarah.It's not like I had this epiphany—I'm a bad father, I need to change—and suddenly I was a good dad.There were many embarrassing, shameful moments after that epiphany where I still made terrible decisions and treated the children badly.Even today, I still lose my temper, say things I shouldn't, and get frustrated, because kids are kids and we're fallible humans.But we call parenting parenting because it's about us. If it were about children, we'd call it childrening.Which sounds silly, right?Dr. Justin: But what I've really discovered is that if I can learn how to regulate myself—high emotions equal low intelligence—then I can regulate my emotions, turn them up or down appropriately for the context, and keep them in harmony with my long-term goals, which are to have loving, kind relationships with my children.If I can do that, I'm going to approach them with a tremendously different focus than I will if I'm looking for a short-term fix.And that is something—Anger is a habit. Yelling is a habit. Time-out is a habit. Reward charts are a habit.We can create other habits. We just have to understand the processes and principles behind those habits and then practice them, like we practice a song on the piano, until we finally get it right.Sarah: I love that.So you and Kylie really had a journey—a back-and-forth dance of your own processes and your own development.I do love how you say it's really about us. Whenever I'm working with clients, after a couple of sessions they'll say, “You know what? This isn't even about my kid. This is just about me.”Dr. Justin: Yes. Yes.Sarah: Nobody wants to believe that at first, because it's so much easier to think, I've just got to change them and what they're doing.But it's really all about what we're bringing to the moment and what we're bringing to the relationship.Dr. Justin: I get in trouble sometimes for being overly provocative and saying things that are insensitive, so a quick warning:I want to say what I'm about to say with all the compassion in the world and all the tenderness and care in the world, because I work with people every single day who are dealing with exactly the struggles you're talking about.I want to step into the world of neurodiversity—ADHD, autism, trauma—those kinds of areas.What we're talking about applies there as well. It's just harder.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: But ultimately, if I'm raising an ADHD child or a child who's been through a traumatic experience, once again, parenting is not about them. It's about how I show up for them.So I can say, “Well, my child's like that,” or, “I'm like this because of the diagnosis,” or because of the label, or because of the trauma, or because of the neural networks doing what they're doing.I can say all of those things, and many people do. It's understandable, and I have all the compassion in the world for them when they do.But the key thing I want to highlight is that in spite of all of those challenges your child might be facing—or even that you might be facing—today begins now.It begins with what you put on your face and what you think in your mind.If we can soften our features and go to our children with kindness and compassion while still holding appropriate limits—or working with them to develop appropriate limits—then what we can say is:“Yes, that bad thing happened,” or, “Yes, we are dealing with this difficulty, so what are we going to do about it?”We can fall into the I can't do anything way of thinking, which is really ineffective and doesn't help at all.Or we can step into I have this incredible thing psychologists call agency, or self-efficacy, where I can make a decision now, and if we work on it, we can actually improve things.It might be a longer, harder road. There may be more obstacles to climb over than a typical family without those challenging circumstances.It may be harder.But we can always improve.I never want to be the person who puts limits on what kids can do or what parents can do.If we change our language, change our focus, and recognize that this is a long game—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —which requires sustained effort every single day, it's extraordinary the progress we can make and the changes we can create in our home and our family.Sarah: For sure. Yeah.And unfortunately, it's a long game, right? Because I think today we always want quick answers and solutions.Really, it's just showing up every day as best you can and repairing when you don't show up the way you wish you had.And I think another really important part of it—which you were talking around a little bit—is trying to understand our child's experience and see things from their perspective.I was just talking to a client about that today:What's the most emotionally generous explanation you can come up with for their behavior?Because we don't actually know why anyone does anything, since we're not in their brain.But we often jump to, They're being rude on purpose, or They're trying to annoy me.Really, if we can think, Well, I don't know why they're doing this, but there's probably a reason, because kids want to be good. They want to be connected with us.And just reminding ourselves that they're not giving us a hard time—they're having a hard time.That actually makes it easier, I think, to show up as your best, most compassionate self—with, as you say, soft eyes and warm features.Dr. Justin: Yeah.No child wakes up in the morning thinking, Today's the day. I'm just going to ruin everything.This is the perfect opportunity. My parents are tired and frazzled. There's a cost-of-living crisis. There are all these challenges happening, and if ever there was a moment—it's now. I'm going to do it today.They don't wake up thinking that.Like you said—and you said it so perfectly—kids really do want to please us.I know some parents listening to me say that right now are thinking, No, no. My child does not want to please me.And so the question becomes: Why? Why are they struggling?And maybe this is a nice way for me to bring in some of the principles I learned as I went deeper into self-determination theory.There are a couple of times when children are almost guaranteed to be challenging, and this has nothing to do with self-determination theory. This is just general psychology and wellbeing.I always think of Germany. A police officer tells you to stop, but they don't say the word stop because they're German.In German, the word for stop is halt—H-A-L-T.So we add an S to the end, and the acronym becomes:Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired, or Stressed.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Those are the five times when you can all but guarantee your children are not going to be doing well.If they are hungry, get some food into them—ideally a little protein, because it's satiating and helps them feel full quickly.If they're angry, then we've got to remember: high emotions equal low intelligence.You can't think straight in a high emotional state.So our job is to get curious, not furious, because if we fight fire with fire, we end up with a scorched-earth policy and everything gets burned.Dr. Justin: Lonely.I could be sitting right next to you, Sarah, and feel disconnected and lonely—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —even if we were very close.Our children are sometimes literally sitting at our kitchen bench, and they feel alone. They feel a little lost. Because of the way we're responding to them—with hard commands, correction, and direction rather than connection—they feel lonely.Tired.I don't even need to explain that.Even as adults, I don't know any couple who, at the end of witching hour—or whatever you might call it in North America, that 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. stretch when the kids—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: —are just oof…It's the end of that period, and you're exhausted, the kids are exhausted, and you look at your husband or wife and say, “You know what? We are so tired. We're shattered. But boy, are we nailing it tonight.”Nobody ever says that when they're tired—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: —because you're not nailing it. You're just hanging in there.And it's the same with kids.Then the S is for stressed, and that includes sickness, because sickness is a stress on the body as well.Those five indicators are going to let you know when your child is likely to be challenging, and I think they're really good to watch out for.But if we go a little deeper and talk about self-determination theory, it says that each of us has these needs.You have them, Sarah, and I have them, and our children have them—even your mother-in-law has them.We have three basic psychological needs.When we're in environments where those needs are supported, oh my goodness, we thrive. These are environments we're drawn to and attracted to. We approach them with a smile on our face and can't wait to be there.But if the environment is what researchers call need-thwarting or need-frustrating—meaning it frustrates and thwarts those needs—then we avoid it.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Or, if we're in those environments, we act in ways that are challenging.So the basic psychological needs are:Number one: a sense of relationship, or relatedness. That's the technical term they use.Relatedness is a sense of mutual belonging.Sarah: So would it be similar to mattering? Like you feel like you matter to somebody?Dr. Justin: Yeah. There's been a lot of talk recently about mattering.But it's reciprocal mattering. It's not just one-way.It's I matter to you, but you matter to me.Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: Let me use Mother's Day as an example.We just had Mother's Day in Australia at the start of May.If I've got a great relationship with my mother-in-law, and it's Mother's Day, I'm probably going to spend the morning with my wife and family while my children celebrate their mum. Then maybe at lunchtime, we head over to the in-laws to celebrate my wife's mum.If I feel like that relationship need is supported at my mother-in-law's—meaning there's mutual belonging, I matter to her, she matters to me, we enjoy one another's company, and it feels good—I'm going to say:“Great. Let's get in the car. Let's go. What do we need to do?”But if I'm going to a need-frustrating environment—if there's tension, antagonism, snide remarks, eye rolls, silence, defensiveness, or wounds from bad things that happened in the past—that environment doesn't feel good to me.So I'm going to say to Kylie:“Honey, why don't you take the kids to your mum's? Have a great lunch. We've made a big mess this morning, and I think the best thing I can do for your Mother's Day”—and I'll frame it nicely, of course—“is stay home, tidy the house, clean up the kitchen, get everything ready, and put dinner on for tonight so you can have your perfect Mother's Day dinner. I'll see you in four hours.”And then I send her out the door.Why?Because my in-laws' home has become a need-thwarting or need-frustrating environment. I just don't want to be there.And if I am there, I'm going to be sullen and sulky. I might try my best for half an hour and then say, “Oh, this is too hard,” and retreat—Sarah: Or text. The adult version of misbehavior.Dr. Justin: Yes, exactly. Exactly.But if I'm a child in a need-thwarting or need-frustrating environment, I'm going to get into fights with the kids I don't like.Or I'm going to say, “I don't want to go to school because everyone picks on me because I don't regulate my behavior properly because I've got ADHD.”Right?So school becomes a place I don't want to go.Or maybe you have a faith background and your child doesn't have any friends at church.Or you've signed them up for soccer, but they don't know anyone on the team.And they're saying, “Yeah, but I don't want to go.”It all comes down to relationship.Relationship is the basic psychological need that's being thwarted.Now, the second basic psychological need is competence.Competence, I would describe as feeling like I can do the thing I'm being asked to do.Sarah: Or that I want to do.Dr. Justin: Yeah. We'll get to want to in just a second, because want-to is the third basic psychological need—autonomy.So stay with me on competence for a second.Competence is capability. Capacity.It's not even necessarily about being able to do something—it's about feeling like you're making progress toward the goal.Let's say I'm joining acrobatics and trying to learn how to do a handstand.That's really tricky. It's a tough skill.If I show up every week to acrobatics, even if I've got great friends there—so my relationship need is supported—and I love my coach, but every time I try to do a handstand my shoulders buckle, my elbows aren't straight, my form is wrong, I fall over, or I can't stay up…After four or five or six weeks, I'm going to say:“I don't like this anymore. I'm out.”I had a daughter who wanted to come cycling with me.I'm a really keen cyclist. I ride on the road. I'm a middle-aged man in Lycra.But I also ride on the velodrome.You've seen those velodrome bikes at the Olympics—the indoor track where they go around and around and around.You might have noticed that after they finish the race, they keep pedaling and do another 10 laps.The reason is twofold.Number one: there are no brakes on those bikes.And second: they use what's called a fixed gear, meaning that when the wheels are spinning, the pedals are spinning.If you stop pedaling, you're going to get thrown over the handlebars because the wheels are still moving, which means the pedals are still moving, even if you try to stop them.So you just have to keep riding until the bike slows down.My daughter wanted to come to Friday night velodrome racing with me.We didn't have the money, but we spent all this cash on a bike, the Lycra, the helmet, the special shoes—it cost a lot, and I was a poor university student.But my daughter wanted to cycle with me, and I wasn't going to miss that opportunity. So we sacrificed and made it happen.Unfortunately, she was competing against girls who had been riding for four, five, or six years.For the first few weeks, she gave it a good go, but she was losing by several laps every race.After about a month, she said:“Dad, I don't want to do this anymore.”And my response was:“But I've spent all this money.”But what was really going on was that as much as she liked the girls and the atmosphere, she didn't feel competent—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —and she didn't see progress.She didn't feel like she was ever going to master the activity, so her motivation and wellbeing plummeted.Cycling became a need-thwarting environment for her.Whether it's piano, violin, rock climbing, cycling, swimming, math, PE class—it doesn't matter.If your kids don't feel like they can do the thing, they're going to push back.They're going to say:“This is too hard. I don't like it.”They won't use these exact words, but what they're really saying is:“This is a need-frustrating environment for me. I don't like it. I don't want to be there.”And then they start to act out.My mom got to the stage with me as a 13-year-old boy where she was physically holding me by the arm and dragging me into my piano lessons.Dr. Justin: Which brings me to my third and final basic psychological need, which is autonomy.A lot of people hear the word autonomy and think it means freedom—that kids can do whatever they want. They think it means independence.That's not what autonomy means, certainly not in the strict scientific form we're talking about within this theory.Rather, autonomy comes down to identifying the value of an activity and therefore endorsing the actions required to do the activity.See, if I, as a 12-year-old, looked at piano and thought:This is going to be a lifelong skill that will bring me joy, that I'll be able to share with others, that I can use in service of my family and community. If I can play piano or keyboard, I could be in a band. I could do all of these things.If I identified the value in the activity, then I would endorse the work required to learn it.So autonomy is not about freedom and independence. It's about choice based on values.That's a lot when you're thinking about three-, four-, and five-year-olds, but not necessarily—Sarah: No, I love that.We talk about that all the time in my communities—how important it is for kids to have autonomy.And I think you can have autonomy even when kids can't be independent, right?Because you can't have a four-year-old who's independent, but you can have a four-year-old who can make decisions that matter.Dr. Justin: Yes, yes.And that decision goes well beyond, Do you want to wear the blue suit or the green one?Sarah: I'll quote our friend Alfie Kohn. He says, “Kids should have the ability to make decisions that make adults gulp a little bit.”Dr. Justin: I love it. Yes. Beautiful.Let me give an adult version of this, and then I'll swing it back into childhood, because sometimes parents hear this and think, This isn't quite computing for me.In Canada, you drive on the right-hand side of the road.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And it's true that if you choose to drive on the left-hand side of the road, the authorities will probably get involved. You may cause harm to somebody. You could even end up in prison.But even in the middle of the night, when nobody's on the road, I can't imagine there are too many Canadians who get in the car and think:Tonight's the night. Nobody's watching. I'm gonna drive on the left.You are being absolutely controlled by the government and by the law. You're driving on the right-hand side of the road.But because you identify the value in driving on the right-hand side of the road, nobody has to compel you to do it.You just do it because you endorse the idea that driving on the right is safer. It's what you need to do.So our job with our children is twofold.First, when it comes to these basic psychological needs, we want to help them be in environments—or create environments—where those needs are supported.We want to send them to a school where they have good relationships, where somebody says, “Hey, come sit with us,” where teachers know them by name and smile when they see them and are excited to support them.A school where they're able to experience progress—which might mean less emphasis on grades and more emphasis on developing capability.And a school where they feel like they have some say in where they're going and what they're doing.Rather than being forced to attend a school like I was when I was a teenager, they get to say:“No, I want to go to that school because that's where my friends are.”Or:“That's where the teachers help me feel good.”Or:“That's where my interests lie.”That's the basic psychological-needs concept.Now let's bring that into discipline, which is what started this whole conversation.Based on this theory—and I guess it ties back to a lot of what Alfie Kohn has said as well—I developed a little model that's really easy to memorize and even easier to enact.I call it the Three E's of Effective Discipline.The Three E's of Effective Discipline are need-supportive.If you look at the root of the word discipline, it comes from the idea that we teach, guide, and instruct—that we show the way to follow.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: But if you look at the modern definition of discipline, the modern definition is punish.Punish means exact retribution. It means hurt. It means make someone pay a price.Sarah: Make people feel bad on purpose.Dr. Justin: Yeah. That's exactly right.And I'm interested in disciplining our kids, not punishing our kids.Punishment is need-thwarting, right?If you make someone feel bad on purpose, there goes the relationship. They feel incompetent, and you've taken away their autonomy.So standard discipline strategies—whether it's time-out, spanking, yelling, withdrawing privileges, taking away the iPad, bribery—all of those standard discipline practices trample over basic psychological needs.We've got to come up with something better.So I developed the Three E's of Effective Discipline, which are basically this:On a beautiful bed of empathy, we explore, we explain, and we empower.Sarah: Ooh, I love that.Dr. Justin: Explore basically means I sit down with my child at an appropriate time.Because we always try to fix things right here, right now.Sometimes we need to, but often intervention simply to make sure people and property aren't hurt—that's all you need.Then you can say to your child:“We'll have a chat about this later when nobody's got a head full of steam.”Kick it down the road.You don't have to fix things right here, right now. Most of the time, it's just not necessary.So once everyone is calm, you explore.You say:“Hey, I've noticed there's been a lot of tension in our home lately between you and your brother.”Or:“Have you noticed that for the last few weeks we've had so much conflict about screens?”And your child says, “Yeah.”And you say:“I just want to listen because parenting's about parents, right? I must be getting something wrong here. Can you help me understand what I'm missing? Where am I going wrong? What's the real problem from your perspective?”Now, there are three things that make this better.Number one: never do it with an audience.Kids always want to save face. They don't feel competent when we start these conversations in front of other people.Number two: have some treats.Because once you're feeding them, they're like:“Oh, I'm not in trouble. We're just chatting, and there are cookies,” or a thick shake, or something like that.And number three: take notes.When you're trying to solve problems—and that's really what discipline is—The Three E's of Effective Discipline are about problem-solving.Discipline—meaning helping, teaching, guiding, instructing—is really about solving problems.So if I want to solve problems effectively in my home—if I want to discipline my children well—I'm trying to say:“Where are you coming from? What am I missing?”When you take notes on what your kids are saying, it's amazing how much information they give you because they realize:You're really listening to me.Sarah: Yeah. You're taking me seriously. You're writing down what I say.Dr. Justin: They're blown away by it.So they'll tell you a bunch of stuff.Now, every now and then they won't. Sometimes they'll shrug and say, “I don't know.”And you can say:“Well, if you don't know, that's fine. But if you did know…”This drives kids crazy, but it's my favorite sentence.“If you did know, what do you think the answer would be?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And they roll their eyes.“Well, I don't know. That's what I said. If I knew, I'd tell you, but I don't know.”And I say:“I know you don't know, and I understand that if you did know, you would tell me. But if you did know, what would you tell me?”Sarah: I love that.Dr. Justin: They get this feeling—it's like this horrible psychological trick where:I don't know the answer, but if I had to come up with one, I guess I'd say this…And now the conversation starts.You get momentum.Sarah: You Jedi mind-trick them.Dr. Justin: Yeah. It's beautiful.And you write it down.At no point are you allowed to interrupt.At no point are you allowed to tell them they're wrong.At no point are you allowed to respond with your adult wisdom.You just listen.Sarah: Okay, and we're still on explore?Still on the first E?Dr. Justin: We're still on the first E.You make all these notes, and once it sounds like they've told you everything, you say:“All right. So what you're telling me is…”And then you read the notes back.This is the oldest psychological strategy in the book—I'm not saying anything new here.If they say, “Yes, that's what I'm saying,” you say:“All right. Great. I've got it.”If they say no, then you say:“Oh, what have I missed? How did I get this wrong? Clarify it for me.”And they give you more information.But there's a really valuable question at the end.When they say, “Yes, that's what I'm saying,” you ask:“Fantastic. Is there anything else?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: The power of asking that extra question is profound.It forces them to go deeper.Sometimes they'll say, “No, that's it.”But often, their first answers are shallow answers to get you off their back.They're thinking:I'm telling you what I think you want to hear.But when you say:“Got it. You're happy with this answer? Fantastic. Is there anything else going on?”That's when they look at you and think:Oh—you're actually serious about this. You really care.Sarah: And you're really listening to me.Dr. Justin: Yeah.And it's profound what children will give you after you ask, “Is there anything else?”Once you've got everything written down, confirmed, and you're clear, the next step is explain.Dr. Justin: Now, there are a couple of things around explain.Explain is basically the part where you tell them what they need to know. This is the parent bit.But all too often, we step into lecturing, and the kids fall asleep. They're like, “Oh, here we go again. I thought this was going to be different, but it's no different after all.”So there are a couple of things we need to get right here.Number one: if you're going to explain anything to your children, my recommendation is that you keep it to less than 20 seconds.Now, there's no science around this. This is just my experience in talking with parents and kids in my own family. I find that if you talk for more than 10 to 20 seconds, kids really do tune out, and it goes back to the way things have always been.The second thing is that I always ask permission.“Now that I've listened to you, Sarah, there are just one or two things I'd love to run by you about what's going on. Do you mind if I do that?”I want to make this absolutely clear: as a parent, you do not need your child's permission to tell them things. I really, absolutely, honestly believe that. As the parent, you have the right to tell them stuff they need to know.But this isn't about rights. This is about effectiveness.If I launch into, “Well, Sarah, now that I've listened to that, I get it, but I need to tell you these two things,” I'm already bringing defensiveness back into the relationship.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Barriers are coming up.Whereas if I say, “Sarah, this is so helpful. As I've listened to you, two things have come to mind. Do you mind if I share both of those with you?” Your instant response, even as I say it—I'm watching your face—Sarah: I'm nodding.Dr. Justin: And you're going—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: Yeah. I actually want to know.You're opening up your heart and mind to me, and we're just role-playing this.Sarah: Yeah, yeah. Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And that's what our kids do. They're like, “Oh, okay.” Because we've given them the courtesy of listening—Sarah: Well, and you're not trying to use your power over them.Dr. Justin: Exactly.This is a non-coercive, really supportive conversation.And I still haven't had this happen. A lot of parents will say, “Well, what happens if they say no?”And I'm like, “I've raised six kids, and they've never actually looked at me and said, ‘Now that I think about it, no, I don't need to know anything that you…'”They've just never done it.But even if they did—Sarah: Well, if they do, it's probably that they're—what did you say? When emotions are high, intelligence is low. Maybe it wasn't the right time to have the conversation.If they're saying no, then they're probably still angry and holding onto whatever was going on for them.Dr. Justin: Exactly.But if they're that angry, they're probably not going to have explored nicely with you anyway.Sarah: Yes, exactly. So pick—Dr. Justin: A different time.You're probably not even going to—Sarah: Get to that point. Yeah.Dr. Justin: So it's very much: keep it really short, ask permission, and then share.Sarah: Okay. So give me examples.You said, “We've been fighting about screens,” was one example. You also gave the example of, “You've been fighting a lot with your brother.”So in the explain—10 to 20 seconds—choose one of those scenarios. After hearing your child, what would you say in that 10 to 20 seconds?Dr. Justin: I did this just the other day with my 16-year-old daughter, Lily, who is on social media more than she should be. There's been some tension and conflict.I listened. She shared some ideas, and I said, “There are just a couple of things I want to run by you. Is that okay?”She said, “Sure, Dad.”I said, “Great. There are certain times when we're trying to connect or have family time, and there are certain contexts where you're on your device and we just can't reach you.”She looked at me and said, “Yeah, I know.”I said, “Okay. The second thing I want to highlight is that we've noticed you're sleeping in because, even though you're not supposed to, you've been taking your phone into your bedroom at night and staying up late scrolling. Unless I'm reading it wrong, I'm pretty sure that's what's been happening.”And she said, “No, I have been, Dad. You're right.”So it's just two really succinct sentences where I'm stating what I'm seeing. I'm sharing my experience.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: If it were the sibling fighting, I'd say, “Yeah, your brother is really annoying. I get what's going on. Sometimes I wish he didn't live in our house as well.”I might have a joke with them about the challenge associated with that.And then I might say, “So when this happens, can I just share how it feels for me? It breaks my heart. I love both of you so very much, and my dream is for our family to enjoy being in one another's company and to look forward to conversations and jokes and doing the things we do. When this stuff is going on, it feels like that's a pipe dream.“And secondly, psychologically—you know I've got this PhD in psychology—I know that there's damage being done to the way your brother feels about himself. That's what I'm worried about.”So I've had both of those little conversations on two different topics, sharing two different things, and both were about 10 seconds each.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Again, it's conversational. It's not lecture-style.Sarah: And it's from the heart.I can feel it, even though this is just an example you're giving. I can feel that it's from your heart—that you're really being open and sharing with your child what your true concerns are.You're not trying to power over or control. You're really sharing a heartfelt sentiment.Dr. Justin: Yeah. Thank you. That's the goal.You won't always do that, but that's the goal.The reason there's a problem is because your values are not being upheld in the home, and you're trying to communicate that in a way that shows you honor them and that they've got a brain.Now, we've used two really grown-up versions—or teenage versions, I guess. But you can have the same conversations with three- and four-year-olds. It's just shorter. It's simpler.Usually, with those conversations, in a pretty tight timeframe—60 to 90 seconds—you've done the whole process.There is a higher-order—Sarah: Okay, so what's the third part?Dr. Justin: Just before I get to that one, if you really want to do the advanced version of explain, what I'll often do after I've explored with my child is say:“Okay, so this is the bit where I'd normally explain what's going on from my point of view. I wonder if you can tell me what you think I'm going to say here.”Sarah: Ah.Dr. Justin: And so I get them to explain the explain to me.The reason that's so effective is that whenever my mouth is the one that's moving, my brain is the one that's working.If I can get their mouth moving, their brain is doing the heavy lifting.Sarah: Love that.Dr. Justin: That's really, really effective.And then the last one—Sarah: Is empower.And you're also helping them see things and develop empathy, right? To see things from somebody else's perspective.Dr. Justin: Yes. Powerful.The last one is empower.That's literally as simple as saying, “Okay, so I get where you're coming from. We've had that conversation very thoroughly. You know what my challenge is here. What do you think we should do?”“Where do we go from here? How do we solve this in a way that we can both feel good about?”It's true that every now and then, your child will shrug their shoulders and say, “I don't know.”Or they'll shrug and say, “Well, we should just do what I want to do.”And as a parent, that's where you step in and say my favorite line:“Don't you just wish? Don't you just wish we could?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Because—well, let me ask you, Sarah. When I say, “Don't you just wish,” or, “Wouldn't it be good if we could?”—same thing—what have I actually said?Sarah: Total empathy. Heaps of empathy.Dr. Justin: Total empathy.But I've also said something else really clearly.Sarah: That that's not going to work.Dr. Justin: Correct. The answer is no.But it's a no with so much love, kindness, empathy, and gentleness in it—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —that your child goes, “Oh, yeah. I know.”And then you say, “So let's see if we can come up with a solution that will work.”What else might work for you when it comes to your brother?What else might work for you when it comes to the party on Friday night that I'm not willing to let you go to?What else could work when it comes to our screen challenges? Because this is an ongoing issue for us, isn't it?Every now and then, you won't get an answer right away. You'll say, “Well, let's talk about it again tonight,” or, “Let's talk about it again tomorrow once you've had some time to think about it.”But I'm big on deadlines.“We need to have this worked out by the end of the weekend, okay? I don't want to go through another week of this. We've got to find a solution. If we haven't had another chat by tomorrow night, we're going to sit down and work it out then.”And I also don't have a problem at this point—Laura Walker is a researcher at BYU in Utah, and she did a study published in the Journal of Adolescence where she found that parents who use these kinds of strategies—she's not talking about the Three E's of Effective Discipline, because that's the thing I developed, but it's based on the same sort of theory that she researches—Parents who use these kinds of strategies, even when they do have to step in and say, “All right, well, we haven't come up with a solution, so it's going to be my way,” kids are much more likely to be responsive and compliant—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —because we've been through a process with them that is not autocratic. It's not authoritarian.They've felt like they had a voice. Their perspective has been seen and heard. They've had some input.And even though they don't get what they want all the time—because we're the parents, and sometimes the fact that we've climbed 47 rungs on the ladder of life and they've only climbed 13 is all we need.Sarah: That's what I call in my work the goodwill bank.When your kids experience you as collaborative, non-coercive, and not power-tripping—when they know, over the period of their childhood, that they can trust you to take their preferences into account and be respectful of them—then when you do have to say no about something, even if they don't like it, there's this goodwill bank behind you and this level of trust.When you mentioned, “You can't go to the party on Friday,” I never had that issue with my kids because everything was so collaborative.We'd have similar conversations. I didn't have—I'm not very good at thinking of things like the Three E's—but similar kinds of processes where they'd say why they wanted to go, I'd say what my concerns were, and then they'd invariably say, “Oh, yeah, you're probably right.”It was never, “You can't go.”It was, “These are my concerns. This is what I've been thinking about.”Because they experienced that whole process over years of parenting, you don't get the pushback because they don't feel like you're power-tripping them.Dr. Justin: Yeah.Sarah, I had an experience with one of my adult children who was still living at home. I think she was maybe 19 or 20 when this happened.She wanted to go and do something, and I said to her, “You're an adult. You do get to choose for yourself whether you will do this or not, but I've got some really big concerns about you doing it.“I actually think you're putting yourself into a dangerous situation. There's some history, some volatility, and some challenges if you go and involve yourself in this particular activity. Tell me why this is so important to you.”So she walked me through it, and I said, “Okay, I get it. How do my concerns stack up against your desire to be there?”And she said, “Dad, I get what you're saying, but I want to go.”And I said, “Okay, so…”You used that beautiful term, the goodwill bank. I can't remember exactly what my words were, but I'm going to use your term right now, because I essentially said:“I'm going to use the goodwill I've built up with you over the last however many years and step in really firmly and say you're making a mistake.“As your dad, even though you're an adult, I want to forbid you to go. That's how strongly I feel about this. To the degree that I can, I forbid it.“Ultimately, you will choose because you are an adult, but I don't want you there.”Sarah: I'm going on the record.Dr. Justin: Yeah, yeah.“I need you to trust that this is a bad idea. We can come up with any number of other activities you could do instead, with different people in a different location, but this is a bad idea, and you have none of my support should you go.“If you go and something goes wrong, you call me and I'll come rescue you. But it is a bad idea, and I forbid it.”And I couldn't believe I was saying those words. I've never said them in my life, and now I was saying them to an adult.But she looked at me and said, “Okay.”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: She didn't fight me. She didn't say, “I can do what—”Sarah: No, because you built up the history with her of how she experienced you.Dr. Justin: Yeah. She was like, “Wow, this is serious. He's never said that before. If he feels that strongly, maybe he's right. Maybe I need to find an alternative.”So anyway, that's the Three E's of Effective Discipline.I feel like I've talked too much, Sarah. I wanted to be much more conversational, but I get carried away when we—Sarah: No, no. I love it.I feel like it's very complementary to the things that I teach, and you've given me some new things to teach parents as well.I love having sort of snappy—the Three E's of Discipline. I think that's great. I love it. I'll share it.Dr. Justin: Yeah, please. Absolutely.It's helped so many millions of parents.Sarah: Yeah.Well, I love that we've connected across the world—from the other side of the world to each other—and I look forward to hopefully talking to you again in March of 2027 when your book Boys comes out.I figured we were going to talk about that, but we had such a lovely conversation about peaceful parenting, discipline, and—oh my God, it's gone right out of my head—Dr. Justin: Self-determination theory.Sarah: Self-determination theory.I think it was a really great conversation, and I really appreciate you sharing all of your experience and wisdom.Dr. Justin: I loved the conversation.Like I said, it was too one-sided. I wish we'd been able to go backward and forward a bit more, but let's do it again.Let's chat again next year when the book comes out, and we'll talk about boys and how to help them.There's so much talk about toxic masculinity.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Wouldn't it be great if we could give them a view of healthy masculinity—a model of that to follow?That's what my book is all about: how we can guide boys into a healthy form of masculinity.Sarah: Well, for folks in Australia, your book is coming out in June 2026. For folks in North America, it's not coming out until spring 2027.So I will definitely be ringing you up and having you come back on to talk about the book when you've got your North American release. I know we're going to have a great conversation then.Before I let you go, though, I have a question that I ask all my podcast guests:If you had a time machine and you could go back and tell your younger parent self something, what advice would you give yourself?Dr. Justin: Jean-Jacques Rousseau said there is—I can't remember the quote exactly—but: What wisdom is there that is greater than kindness?I've paraphrased it. It's not perfect, but it's something along those lines.Interestingly, Rousseau had, I think, five children—maybe six—and he put them all into orphanages somewhere in the first 18 months of their lives so he could spend more time writing and focusing on how to be a good person, which I just find criminal. I can't believe it.So take it for what it's worth, but “What wisdom is there that's greater than kindness?” is what Rousseau said.I've mentioned this idea of soft eyes a couple of times. If I could go back, I would teach myself about kindness. I'd teach myself about many of the things we've talked about today.But I just want to quickly share the story of soft eyes.As an academic, I want everything I say to be evidence-based. There is no evidence that I'm aware of where people have done any kind of randomized controlled trial where parents are asked to interact with their children with soft eyes, neutral eyes, hard eyes, or anything like that.Soft eyes is this idea—I was giving a presentation at a public library one time, and an elderly lady stepped into the back of the room, sat down, and listened to the last 25 or 30 minutes of my presentation. She must have liked what she could hear from the corridor outside, and she stepped in to listen.After everybody had left, she walked over to me and said, “I really enjoyed what you shared. I'd love to tell you something my grandmother said to me.”So we're going back into the early 1900s.Her grandmother said, “Whenever you're talking to your children about matters of discipline, make sure you have soft eyes.”And I thought, I really like that.Because if you try to have a conversation with somebody and your eyes are soft, you just can't say mean things. You can't say harsh things. You can't have harsh thoughts.If you soften your eyes, your face softens and your heart softens. You have this beautiful compassion and kindness, this ability to see the best in them rather than the worst in them, to assume positive intent.There's something gorgeous about soft eyes.So I would go back and quote Rousseau better than I just quoted him to you, and I would tell my younger self that soft eyes will make a tremendous impact on all of my relationships.Sarah: Ah.There's an American—I don't know if you've heard of him in Australia—but he's a pretty well-known marriage counselor, Terry Real.Dr. Justin: Oh, yeah. I quote him in my book.Sarah: Yeah, yeah. He does a lot of work about—well, he says something like, “There's nothing that harshness can accomplish that kindness can't accomplish better.”Dr. Justin: That's so beautiful.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Thank you. That's inspiring. I'm so glad you shared that.Sarah: Yeah. I love it.It's hard to remember, but I think it is true. And I wish that—and I know the world needs a dose of that right now.Dr. Justin: Yeah. Yeah.Sarah: One hundred percent.Well, thank you so much.Where's the best place for folks to go and find out more about you and what you do?Dr. Justin: Probably my podcast, the Happy Families Podcast. My wife and I drop a 15-minute nugget of parenting wisdom every day, five days a week.Sarah: Oh, wow!Dr. Justin: Yeah. It's a lot of content, but it's bite-sized chunks, and it's entertaining. We're fun. We get to do it together.And the Happy Families Podcast. I've got a website called happyfamilies.com.au, but basically, if you like what we've talked about—Sarah: We'll link to all of that in the show notes. We'll link to your website and your podcast, and I'm sure it's easy to find you.Dr. Justin: That sounds great. Thanks, Sarah.Sarah: Thank you so much.Dr. Justin: What a great, great conversation. Lovely to be with you.Reimagine Peaceful Parenting with Sarah Rosensweet Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sarahrosensweet.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Episode 398!! Are you ready to get your kicks on Route 66 - but it's 1954 and you're a black American? We talk about the Green Book for motorists as well as lots of other Rte 66 stuff on our trip through Claremore, OK. W.oW. Highs/Lows News She Knows Moto and so Much more- From Radiation Water to Esso stations and all that jazz!! Please leave a rating, comment or feel free to reach out to Creative-Riding via the email or social links included in the show notes: Resources: https://negromotoristgreenbook.si.edu/ https://www.classicbikehub.uk/buying-guide/article/the-triumph-speed-twin/ Show contact info Creative Riding is available on Apple Podcasts, Sound Cloud, Google Play, Tune In, Spotify, etc. Leave the show a rating and review on your favorite podcast app. https://motorcycle-podcasts.com/ Check out our blog: creative-riding.com Contact the show: Discord: https://discord.gg/3kzhhChcUj Email: creativeridingpodcast@gmail.com FB/IG: @creativeridingpodcast Reddit: @Creative_Riding Support the show: patreon.com/creativeriding zazzle.com/store/creative_riding

XQQ, crowがホストを務める、9のつく日に更新のゆるくてディープなesportsラジオ。このエピソードではta1yo, KH、そして収録に2時間半遅刻してきたMeLtonの仲良し3人がOWの魅力を熱弁します。

In this episode I muse about all sorts of subjects while I take you along for an easy Sunday morning run. If you want to comment on today's episode, consider signing up on Patreon and join the Lonely Triathlete community!Join our community at www.patreon.com/TheLonelyTriathleteTranscriptAll right. Well, this is my first run of the year. in shorts and a t-shirt. And I am stoked. Absolutely love it. Now, I was thinking, how often do we really love our workouts? It's a great question, because I'm on an indoor bike, most of the year, and I like my workouts, but do I love them? No? I'm more interested in maybe the podcast I'm listening to or the movie I'm watching. But for the actual workout, curious about it, kind of like the feeling of sweat. But do I love it? No. Swimming in the winter. When you go to the pool at 6 in the morning, 6:30 in the morning, and it's dark and cold outside, it's fun to swim. But do you love it? Most of the time, I don't love it, but when you swim outside in a lake or the ocean with your wetsuit, that, that stuff that I love. And running in the dark and the cold, and sometimes the snow and the rain, don't love it. Don't even... don't even like it half the time. But now, in the sunshine, love it.Another thing I do love is running on trails. I never used to run the trails that much because, oh, you know, I didn't know the exact distances. This was before GPS watches, of course. And it was a very terrain, so I couldn't establish a solid pace. He just felt all too random for me. So I'd be running on the road a lot. In the last couple of years, I've really disliked running on the road. Not 'cause of the road. But because of the traffic. And there's a section here in Victoria, where I have to run on the road a bit, and, uh, it's starting to bug me. I'm feeling, uh, what's the word? Negative towards the loud trucks, the loud motorcycles, a blast by me. I don't know. I don't like running on the road as much as I used to. So that brings up the point. What do we do? to enjoy our workouts more? I think it starts with identifying what we like and then doing more of what we like. So I just said, I like trail running. I'm gonna focus more running on trails. I like swimming in the lakes in the ocean, well more lakes than ocean. I'm kind of dependent upon the weather and temperature, obviously, but I'm gonna be swimming in the lake, probably starting next weekend. So that's good. Now, riding my bike, that's a different story, because I get so much fitness riding indoors. So I really don't want to do training rides outside, necessarily, unless they're long. Long, and easy kind of rides. So I'll have to give that a thought.So I may have just inspired myself. I think if I can't get out for a training run on the road, then maybe I'll go out for at least a pleasurable, a pleasurable ride. Longer, easier ride, on the weekend, outside, just so I can enjoy being outside my bike more.Sunday morning, and I've already run past 15 dog walkers, 15 dogs, 15 kilos. Nothing, says Victoria, weekend mornings, like dog walking, that's for sure. A lot of dogs in this area.All right, my run has taken me down along the ocean, or just above the ocean. And I'm heading up about a one kilometre hill. Hello, Crow. I'm not talking to you. And, uh, yeah, so I'll be doing a slow jog up a hill with, guess what? More traffic. You can't escape it. But I was thinking as I have my eyes on the ocean here. running up this hill, how fortunate I am to be living in a location that is conducive to my passions, my interests, when it comes to sports. I go kayaking. I run, I can bike, I can swim in the lakes. Absolutely fantastic. Oh, I gotta run across this massive lane. I found myself in a bike lane. Not a run lane. Okay, across the ditch. Into the sidewalk. Yeah, how conducive it is to live in an area that... is conducive to, uh, doing the things I love. And I know that we all can't choose necessarily, very easily, the places that we live, especially if we've got a job, and we can't change locations easily.But it is a reminder that if, if we can, if it's possible to choose a location to live, the next time you're moving, I would give serious, serious thought. to the location, the geography, that you're moving to. Don't just, you know, move to a place that's 10 minutes close to the work. But maybe, maybe a place that's 15 minutes away from work, but puts you in the heart of a trail system. Or buy the water. I don't know, something to think about.All right, halfway up this hill, and the traffic is going by, and I realize another thing I can't stand about traffic is the pollution. Oh, man. When someone goes by me, I just smell gas and oil. I was going in my lungs. Can't stand it. Maybe every more reason to live out in the country, right? We all can't all be so lucky, but, oh, I tell you, being near the place near the places where you enjoy, it goes a long way in your life. It really does.Alright, head me to the top of the hill. And I am sweating now. It is so warm. It's not even summer yet. This is gonna be an awesome summer. There's something about good temperatures, like, shirts and T-shirt running. I feel like I can go for hours. But if it was windy and cold, I think I just want to quit. I just wanna get the workout done with. But at this point, I don't want the workout to end. Another thing... Oh, man, sweat's getting my eyes. Another thing about me is sweat is, I've got thick eyebrows. I got bushy eyebrows. And the plus... Yeah, everyone's out doing their yard work. The plus and minus of it is, when I first start working out, sweat's not dripping down my face at all. because it's being collected in my eyebrows. Great. But, at some point, the eyebrows become saturated. And then... and then the sweat starts to drip. It's like having these two sponges on my eyes, full of water, and they will drip and drip and drip, and never stop.No, you've obviously noticed that I'm recording while I'm running. So what am I recording on? Well, I got a, I got a brand new DJI, Mike Minnie, Bluetooth, microphone I've attached to my, my ball cap, and I'm recording through my phone, so just running with my phone in my hand, recording off this Mike Mini. And I bought this mic specifically to do more, more outdoor stuff. So you all can get a bit more of variety as you listen to the lonely triathlete, and I've got more in store. So if you head over to Patreon, check out the show notes, head the Patreon, join our one of our supporter tiers. And you'll be able to take advantage of more cool little things I'm doing this year. Video, droning, stuff on the bike, all sorts of stuff planned. So you want to go over and be a member? so that you can, uh, take part, take part in that, join the community. So here I am, about to take a halfway turn.All right, I'm getting close to my halfway point of this 45 minute run, and I climbed to the top of the major part of my elevation, and then the last half is mostly downhill. Which is fantastic. Kind of tired of sucking all the gas tumes on this main route. So, when I take my left hand turn, it's a slightly less driven route. But there will be cars, no doubt. And I passed 10 more dogs and two children in dollies, or whatever you call them. Try all these dollies, push carts, strollers. That's a word I'm looking for. Oh, my gosh. An 18 wheeler is gonna go by me. Wow. Where is everyone going on a Sunday morning? You know, I'll go to church. I'll tell you that. Uh... So, gotta talk about... the elephant that is in the room. Or, rather, the elephant that seems to be in my butt. I got another injury. Huh, fire truck. What a crazy morning. Don't know if you can hear that, but that's a one alarm fire. And here's my left turn. So, anyway, my injury. I have... a pretty good haemorrhoid. And I've really never had haemorrhoids before. I mean, maybe I've had something I thought was a haemorrhoid, but this, no doubt, this is a haemorrhoid. I felt it about four days ago. I was in the shower, washing myself. thoroughly, and now as I was getting in there, nice and personal like, I was like, ow. Ow, what is that in my butt? Oh, so I kind of felt around and said, Oh, geez. Does someone put, like, a grape in my butt? What the heck? Now, initially I thought, Oh, great. I've got rectal cancer. Because everything I see on social media these days is the rise in colorectal cancers. And, to be honest, it's something to be aware of. But I don't think, I mean, this isn't rectal. This is, like, anal. Like, I've got anal cancer. I guess it's possible. Just comes out of nowhere. don't know. But, you know, I'm, I don't know what I did to cause it. That's the problem. is I don't strain when I go to the bathroom, like, I'm very aware, 'cause, like I said, I've had prior run ins with the old capital H. So I'm really cautious about that. But I do sit a lot for work. I do sit on my bike every day, or every other day, and I'm running, and right now, as I'm running, I'm clenching a bit to make sure that I'm not putting any extra pressure on that region. Don't know if that's helping. or hurting. Oh, people. 50, 7 years old, turning 58, in 18 days. And now I'm getting the old people's problems. I came the old people's problems. I've gotten haemorrhoids. What's next? Oh, I'm sure there's stuff coming. I am sure I am in for a treat, as I continue to get older.ll right, here's here's the deal about walkers, especially dog walkers. I find the tend to take up the entire sidewalk, the entire walking lane. And I'm running against traffic. And I just came up upon, You guessed it, two more dogs, and their walker, and they took up the whole lane. And, you know, I may be too polite. I hate culling it like, On your right, on your left, come behind you. I have done that when I need to. But I don't know. Just feel like nice, quiet Sunday morning, and I'm shouting at someone that, get out of my way. But, uh, as I get closer, I just start to scrape my feet and pound my feet just a little bit louder. And 95% of people get that. Get that message, and they pull over. So, that's what I do. I just start clumping along louder. Gets the job done.So I tell you, my body is sore. Today, 'cause yesterday, I had a 19 minute indoor cycle, moderate, so that, you know, gets you a little bit sore, just by itself. And then I did two and a half hours of yard work. Now, for those gardeners, listening, they're like, Todd, two and a half hours. You're a baby. Yeah, maybe I am. What about it? But two and a half solid hours at my typical rushing pace, that I'm trying not to rush so much. But I wouldn't say I rushed, but it was definitely in the zone and didn't take really any breaks. So two and a half hours of cleaning my barbeque, cleaning off the back patio, flower pots, dumping organic flower waste into the forest. You know, us love back and forth and stretching my back. Oh, man, my back was really, really tight. Almost to the point where I thought, Did I did I hurt myself? What a dummy. I hurt myself. But, no, I'm not hurt. other than my butt. Uh, I'm just sore, and it shows up on runs. I'll tell you. All right, about now, I'm, what, 30 minutes in? And my low back is saying, yeah, I remember yesterday. Remember how hard? You worked yesterday? Well... But that's okay. Life is... life is overcoming pain. And this is just another pain I'm overcoming.All right, let's talk fuelling. I think some people fuel too much. I think some people don't feel enough. As for me, I try to strike a nice balance, where I feel, I add some fuel to every exercise. But I don't overdo it. So anything under an hour will typically get 25 or 30 grams of carbs. So it's, like, 100, just over 100 calories, like, 100, 120 calories. Especially if the effort isn't all that hard. If I'm doing, like, a major effort, then I'll probably ingest a few more carbs before I start, or maybe even a few more carbs, like, on the effort itself. But you gotta kind of find that balance. And so for this run, for instance, I even bring water. Why? Because it's 45 minutes. I'm not gonna get dehydrated in 45 minutes. I had a banana and coffee. And then, half an hour later, I'm out the door. So, what's a banana? 100, 100 calories, 120 calories, so? Yeah. It's easily enough to fuel. An endurance effort for 45 minutes. But one thing I've been thinking about lately is my salt intake for longer efforts. 'Cause I crammed up so bad last year, during the 70 3, where I could hardly, I could hardly run. And as part of that just muscular issues, I didn't train long enough on the bike, I didn't do enough bricks. I don't know. But it also could have been salt. So I'm thinking of, and I've been self solving for this for years. I add salt, tablets to my drinks. But it's kind of guesswork. It's like, oh, I had 500 milligrams per litre. And they don't have crapping issues. So, is that solving my problem? 'Cause I did not get it right in the 70.3. So, I'm thinking, maybe I start to go with something like precision, nutrition, because they're experts in electrolytes. Sodium. So I'm gonna be looking into that this year.All right, that's the conclusion of my running thoughts episode. I hope you all enjoyed it. You can tell me if you liked it. If you were a member of the podcast, over the Patreon, sign up, and then you can tell me, Todd, I can't stand when you run and talk. Or more of that, please. Or tell me exactly what brand of carbohydrate powder that you use, and because I'm sitting here right now with 25 grams of the best carb powder I've ever had in my life. I've been using it for the past 3 years at least, and I can't see every changing. I threw in 10 grams, no, 5 grams of creatine, and they're both 100 grams of magnesium. For a little after run rejuvenation. And now I'm sitting in the sun. I'm not wearing sunscreen, so that's gonna have a time limit. And I'm also with some bees. And if you know anything about me, I do not like bees. I mean, I like bees. Actually, I like bees, honey bees, mini tasted bee. I detest and loathe wasps. They are not anyone's friend. They are not kind to anyone. I don't care how good they are for the environment. I think they're a plague upon the earth. And yeah, unfortunately, I have to share my outdoor spaces with wasps every now and then. Wish me luck. All right, for real. until next time. peace.

In this episode of Eat Sleep Wine Repeat, Janina heads to the Atlantic coast of Galicia in Spain to explore one of the most exciting wine regions for white wines: Rías Baixas. Joined by winemaker Aran Álvarez from Martín Códax, this episode is a deep dive into Albariño from Rías Baixas - one of the most expressive white wine grapes in the world. From terroir and climate to winemaking techniques, lees ageing, sparkling styles, orange wine and even noble rot, this episode explores just how many different expressions one grape can create. If you want to learn about wine, understand how wine styles are shaped, and get inspired for your next wine travel destination, this episode is for you.   04:11 – Val do Salnés explained — the heart of Albariño and a key Atlantic wine region. 05:47 – Climate change — shifting rainfall patterns and their impact on vineyards. 06:46 – Pergola (emparrado) training — the traditional system adapted to humidity. 11:18 – Atlantic influence — how proximity to the ocean shapes salinity and freshness. 13:03 – A benchmark Albariño — fresh, saline and beautifully balanced; try Martín Códax Albariño (Rías Baixas) 15:12 – Granitic soils — drainage, organic matter and their role in wine structure. 17:11 – Winemaking styles — from fresh Albariño to lees-aged expressions such as Martín Códax Lías 21:05 – Lees aging explained — how it transforms texture, flavour and complexity. 22:38 – Batonnage technique — how winemakers integrate lees without oxidation. 26:28 – Innovation at Martín Códax — why experimentation drives new wine styles. 28:58 – Why make sparkling Albariño (Martín Códax Espumoso)? Exploring the grape's natural potential. 30:03 – Harvest timing — multiple harvest stages depending on wine style. 32:21 – Lessons from sparkling winemaking — acidity, timing and precision. 37:28 – Lees interaction — why Albariño absorbs texture and complexity so well. 38:45 – Dry Albariño affected by Noble Rot (Martín Códax Gallaecia) — how a rare late-harvest wine style was developed. 44:26 – Orange wine (Martín Códax OW)  — skin contact, structure and a completely different expression. 47:58 – Aging potential — how Albariño evolves beyond its youthful freshness. 49:43 – Climate adaptation — vineyard experiments, data and future-proofing the grape. 52:31 – Martín Códax philosophy — community, culture and generational winemaking.  

"Hee hee. Ow!" Those are the noises you make when a laser from an alien spacecraft shoots you in 1967 Manitoba. Or when a diamond-shaped craft in rural Texas bathes you in radiation on a cold December night in 1980. Or when you're just trying to sleep on a Brazilian island and something called "Chupa Chupa" decides to use you as a snack. Those incidents -and hundreds like them = add up to something even stranger than the aliens, cryptids, or apparitions themselves. A pattern. A map. A theory that explains all of it. You're going to find out what that is in this episode. By the time you finish listening to this episode, perhaps by the time you've finished reading this sentence, this week's guest will have finished writing yet another fact-supported, heavily detailed, richly sourced book about ancient archaeology. Or alien sightings. Or religious apparitions. Or cryptids. Or climate shifts across the millennia. Yes, any of those topics. And yes, a full book. If Substack tried to contain the output of George Mitrovic, returning champion, it would crash like a saucer in '47. (Seriously, the Greys don't use Waymo?!) He's the HARDEST WORKING MAN IN FRINGE RESEARCH. Prolific, wise, witty, honest, and the unquestionable KING OF P.O.P. (Paranormal Observable Phenomena, i.e., a bunch of people have seen it and it's left physical traces. Saucers with souvenirs, Bigfoot leaving skidmarks, you get the picture). With over 150 books, one of the highest measured IQs on his side of the world, and a lifetime of research, scholarship, data mapping, pattern recognition, and scientific analysis, George brings something unique to the world of paranormal research: a grand unifying framework for where and why paranormal events happen. Fully mapped, explained, and unlimited in its potential. In this episode, Greg sits down with George to get to the bottom of why this may be the most important scholarship on the unexplained that nobody is talking about. If you've ever wanted to traverse the multiverse, George's Sine Wave Theory is your ticket to other dimensions. You ARE the cryptid. We all are. George's Links:

US President Trump threatened massive military escalation if Iran deal terms are not met, vowed no nuclear weapons, and they are to secure the Strait of Hormuz.Iranian Deputy Foreign Minister said the Speaker of Parliament will lead Iran's delegation for the talks, and the exchange of messages continues via Pakistan, Al Jazeera reported.European bourses pull back as ceasefire begins to crack, Citi reinforces its OW stance on Banks; US equity futures soft.DXY firms on hawkish Fed Minutes, NZD continues to gain amid hawkish Breman.Fixed benchmarks pull back from highs, US PCE ahead. Crude nurses losses as ceasefire hopes wane while the IRGC announces a new Hormuz corridor.Looking ahead, highlights include US Initial Jobless Claims (Apr/04), PCE Final (Feb), GDP Final (Q4), Atlanta Fed GDP, NBP Policy Announcement, Banxico Minutes. Supply from the US.Read the full report covering Equities, Forex, Fixed Income, Commodites and more on Newsquawk

A lot of organizations are betting that AI will make their teams faster. Some of them are right. Most are solving the wrong problem.AJ Bubb, founder of MxP Studio and host of Facing Disruption, joins Peter and Dave to talk about what actually happens when AI lands in a development team without fixing the system around it. If engineers can't get approvals, can't get access, and spend half their day in meetings, AI just means they produce more output the organization still can't handle. That's not a tooling problem. It's a structural one.They also get into velocity without direction, what ownership really looks like when a ticket gets blocked, and why synthetic user testing might be the most polite way to avoid talking to actual customers.This Week's TakeawaysOwn the problem from the customer all the way down. When something is blocked, it's still yours until it moves.When an outcome surprises you in either direction, ask whether your model was wrong. Most teams take the win and move on. The ones that improve don't.Before reaching for a technical solution, ask why five times. The problem someone walks in with is usually the invitation to a conversation, not the actual problem.If this episode got you thinking, we'd love to hear from you. Drop us a note at feedback@definitelymaybeagile.com or leave a review on your podcast app. And if you know someone navigating AI adoption right now, send this one their way.

Ow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Joining Robert Pilot, Kahomy Weston and Kayla Pollard of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi March 21, to celebrate the Spring Equinox and a new engagement space on the riverfront.Arvina Martin consultant! The post Native Roots Radio – March 17, 2026 first appeared on AM 950.

Deze aflevering gaan Anja en Jolanda van de Brabantse Potcast voor de tweede keer in gesprek met Marleen Hendrickx over haar nieuwe voorstelling. De titel daarvan is 'Enfin, Barbin'. Dit is een multimediale voorstelling waarin fysieke performer Marleen de 19e eeuwse Franse intersekse Herculine Barbin tot leven brengt. Met dans, projectie en lichtvoetig spel bevrijdt Marleen Herculine's ervaringen van dwangmatige pogingen hen te categoriseren als man of vrouw. "Enfin, Barbin" is een vervolg op Marleens solo X Y I. Luister je met ons mee? En zien we jou dan ook in de Verkadefabriek op 11 april bij deze voorstelling? Wij zijn er bij hoor!Ow en mocht je onze eerste podcast met Marleen terug willen luisteren, dan is hier de link: https://open.spotify.com/episode/5dvpYpzvp1GCKTc6gsWsPt?si=fb2536e0a61d4194

So many people on meth! Ow!!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

OK, guys, we gotta rap some Pokémon.You just do the singing. I'll take care of the hard part.Let's get it on!I want to be the bestthere ever was.To beat all the rest, yeah,that's my cause.Electrode, Diglett, Nidoran, MankeyVenusaur, Rattata, Fearow, PidgeySeaking, Jolteon, Dragonite, GastlyPonyta, Vaporeon, Poliwrath, ButterfreeCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all,Pokémon!I'll search across the land,look far and wide.Release from my handthe power that's inside.Venomoth, Poliwag, Nidorino, GolduckIvysaur, Grimer, Victreebel, MoltresNidoking, Farfetch'd, Abra, JigglypuffKingler, Rhyhorn, Clefable, WigglytuffCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all,Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon!Zubat, Primeape, Meowth, OnixGeodude, Rapidash, Magneton, SnorlaxGengar, Tangela, Goldeen, SpearowWeezing, Seel, Gyarados, SlowbroGotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon! Ow!Kabuto, Persian, Paras, HorseaRaticate, Magnemite, Kadabra, WeepinbellDitto, Cloyster, Caterpie, SandshrewBulbasaur, Charmander, Golem, PikachuAt least 150 or more to see.To be a Pokémon Master is my destiny.Alakazam, Doduo, Venonat, MachokeKangaskhan, Hypno, Electabuzz, FlareonBlastoise, Poliwhirl, Oddish, DrowzeeRaichu, Nidoqueen, Bellsprout, StarmieWoo! We're at the halfway point, doing great so far.We? What's all this "we" stuff? I'm doing all the hard work!Breaktime's over, here we go!Metapod, Marowak, Kakuna, ClefairyDodrio, Seadra, Vileplume, KrabbyLickitung, Tauros, Weedle, NidoranMachop, Shellder, Porygon, HitmonchanGotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Articuno, Jynx, Nidorina, BeedrillHaunter, Squirtle, Chansey (Pokémon!)Parasect, Exeggcute, Muk, DewgongPidgeotto, Lapras, Vulpix, RhydonAt least 150 or more to see.To be a Pokémon Master is my destiny.Charizard, Machamp, Pinsir, KoffingDugtrio, Golbat, Staryu, MagikarpNinetales, Ekans, OmastarScyther, Tentacool, Dragonair, MagmarWhoa, catch your breath man. Shake out those lips.It's downhill from here, just 24 more to go.Now it gets tricky, so listen real good!Sandslash, Hitmonlee, Psyduck, ArcanineEevee, Exeggutor, Kabutops, ZapdosDratini, Growlithe, Mr. Mime, CuboneGraveler, Voltorb, Gloom - We're almost home!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeow!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, huhh!Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon! (yeeaahh!!)Charmeleon, WartortleMewtwo, Tentacruel, AerodactylOmanyte, SlowpokePidgeot, Arbok - That's all, folks!Catch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all (oowww)Gotta catch 'em all, PokémonCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all (oowww)Gotta catch 'em all, PokémonCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em allGotta catch 'em all... Pokémon!Best BooksInfernal Hulk #4Iron Man #2Book BlurbsHistory of the DC Universe The Dakota Incident, Rogue #2, The Punisher #1, Absolute Wonder Woman #17, Inglorious X- ForceB SegmentPokemon Winds and Waves has been announced! And there was much rejoicing!Uncle's One More ThingTrails in the Sky First Chapter RemakeThe Mighty Ducks (but probably not the one you are thinking)

Welcome all you punks and punkettes, to this week's entry in “Cuz I Wanna (and You're Gonna Like It)”! This week, we are both rocking and/or rolling! Yes! We will rock out with our socks out! Anarchy within reasonable limits! Oo! We're discussing perhaps the greatest movie ever to star both The Ramones and Clint Howard! Woo! Down with the establishment! We're somewhat miffed at multiple authority figures! Hey, Mike! Watch me punk out! I'm going to set this glass on the table . . . WITHOUT a coaster! I'm out of control! You can't stop me; don't even try! Gamble Grimble Hey! Woo again! See, I'm making sure that this picture is hanging CROOKED! Oh god, I've become more animal than man! C'mon, let's slam-dance! Yes . . . OW! Ow, ow, ow, my shoulder, ow, ow my hip! Ow ow OH NO! I've overturned the potpourri dish! Oh lord, all societal norms are collapsing! I'm feeling the urge to use harsh language to politely criticize the architects our current political structure! It's too late for me! Run! Listen to our episode and save yourselves! Punk rock for a reasonable length of time! Poll question: what band or musician who hasn't made a movie would you like to see in a non-concert movie?

Imagine a world...a world without New Order. Or Mariah Carey. Or Wu-Tang Clan. Or Iron Maiden. Or P!nk. or (big gasp!) INXS. THE HORROR. Well, all of these phenomenal artists, AND MORE, are either finally or once again nominated for music's highest career honor...the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And, as is the Sherman and Ski custom, we've got some capital O-pinions. When the nominations dropped this week, quite literally so did our jaws as this grouping is one of the most diverse and PACKED set of artists they've ever thrown together. Neither of us think there's any complete shoo-ins, and neither of us had ever realized that Angry Man legend PHIL COLLINS wasn't already inducted as a solo artist. (Billy, they Lost His Number?). So sit back, pour yourself a tall one and a short one, and listen as Sherman and Ski debate the new nominees. Also, hear Sherman enter the all time INXS rant, out of the sheer joy of his favorite band finally receiving industry recognition. It's What You Need. Also, people said we'd never get over our Phil Collins obsession, but take a look at us now. ENJOY and remember, the two of us are usually right about things, so it's past time for Billy Idol to make it in...Staaaaaart agaaaaaain! Ow.

"Ow, my butt!" - Cinematic Reviews swings into the first Spider-Man film in the MCU to take on the Vulture

The night is young, the mood is mellow, and there's music in our ears ... namely, the 1980 postpunk gem "Is Vic There" by Department S. We discuss the enigmatic lyrics and the surrounding lore of this everdark tune. There's also a version by Trolleybox, a surprising appearance of Clan of Xymox on this (or any!) garage rock podcast, and a totally groovy R&B rendition by Curtis Baker and the Bravehearts. Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-awoo!

This pivotal short section depicts one of the iconic episodes of Austerlitz, namely retreating Russian forces falling through ice amidst an artillery barrage.French General Adolphe Marbot provided a contemporary report on this phenomenon and Czar Alexander appears to have relayed to his inner circle, years later in 1814, that he watched helplessly as thousands of his men perish in the frozen waters. A large number is realistic given accepted casualty figures. Estimates of allied losses indicate 12,000 Russians and 4,000 Austrians dead or wounded and 12,000 captured.  French losses were around 1,400 killed and 7,000 injured.  For nearly a century, which covers the period Tolstoy was writing, it was accepted that thousands perished in this dramatic way. However, academic scrutiny on the episode gained steam in 1902 when Oxford historian Reginald L. Poole published an influential article in The English Historical Review. Poole notes that accounts of the weather in the local Oberamtmann newspaper for early December 1805 indicate the ice was relatively thin, so Poole suggests a vast army retreat would not have been realistic. Nevertheless, a report of relatively thin ice is...relative...and the weather was naturally subject to getting colder from publication. Poole also notes that French engineers drained some of the waters within a few days of the battle, whereupon they discovered 30 cannons and the remains of 150 horses but only three people. Still there are few specifics on the actual draining.  While there remains a great deal of mystery surrounding the event, cannon balls assuredly pierced the ice, leading to a grand spectacle.Tolstoy puts the fictional Fedor Dolokhov in this mix of the columns retreating in the southern portion of the field after the fight was lost at all points.  Dolokhov is among a group crowding around an escape route by a dam and the attendant waters near the Village of Augesd (Awg-est or Ow-gest), which was reachable by cannon fire from the Pratzen Heights.  It was within the rules of engagement to fire at such retreating soldiers, provided it was done at active combatants and not those surrendering or too injured to pose a threat. Tolstoy makes a critical contrast, remarking how this area only knew peace for generations. On the quant dam, which also served as a bridge, an old miller would ordinarily sit in his tasseled cap fishing with his grandson nearby while locals steered their two-horse carts back and forth with goods. On December 2, 1805, however, terrified men crowded together, nearly crushing one another amidst an artillery barrage. Many were struck down like bowling pins. At intervals, they took fire and some went down while others were forced to step over the dead. It was something of a macabre carnival game. Dolokhov is a character men & women love and actors would love to play. Youthful, masculine, handsome, with a dark and wild side. Not wealthy and of privilege like the plentiful assembly of aristocrats Tolstoy crafts, Dolokhov still reflects a side of Tolstoy as in the author's younger days he was quite the debauched gambler.  Dolokhov had been wounded and imbued with survival instincts. He was escaping with some ten men of his company, representing all that was left of it.  His contingent got stymied at an approach because a dead horse had to be dragged out of the narrow path.Soon enough, a cannon ball takes someone out behind Dolokov and another fell in front of him, so Dolokhov was splashed with blood.  He is desperate. Each of these men thought, “If we get a hundred yards further and we are saved, but shall we remain here another two minutes….it is certain death.” Dolokhov frees himself, leaves the edge of the dam and runs onto the ice. Come this way!” he beckons, jumping about the ice which creaked under him. “It bears!” The ice swayed and it was plain that it would give way under his weight alone. The men hesitated in stepping onto the ice, but realized they had no choice.A nearby general on horseback tried to say something but was quickly taken out and it was an ugly death. Seeing their leader fall, the men realized they had to try and ran onto that ice. So they went, running and sliding away from danger.  Very soon, the ice gave way. First under one man, then another, and on and on.    Cries of horror were heard as a group went down in a great mass and struggled in the freezing water. Tolstoy puts a number as forty men, which is well within reason. As the chapter ends, cannon balls continue to pound the ice.

Giannina the Cat Giannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades. Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection. Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together. But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait. Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian. After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses." No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!" As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her. The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others." Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor. On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her. At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever. Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park. They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms. After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats. That's when they arrived. "Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!" At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust. "Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?" The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!" The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song. In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm. "Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her. She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose? She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment. Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group. It was the right moment. Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages. In a gentle voice, she began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again." Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light. "You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful." A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you." Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine." Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!" And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses. From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her. But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes. It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand. _— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli_ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Giannina the CatGiannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades.Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection.Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together.But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait.Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian.After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses."No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!"As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her.The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others."Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor.On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her.At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever.Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park.They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms.After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats.That's when they arrived."Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!"At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust."Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?"The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!"The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song.In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm."Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her.She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose?She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment.Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group.It was the right moment.Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages.In a gentle voice, she began to read."Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again."Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light."You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful."A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you."Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine."Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!"And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses.From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her.But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes.It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

OW! What is the most disgusting, awful thing you've ever had in your eye? We inquired, and wow, you certainly delivered.The fun continues on our social media pages!Jeremy, Katy & Josh Facebook: CLICK HERE Jeremy, Katy & Josh Instagram: CLICK HERE

A medical episode! Duh. Ow. My face. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A medical episode! Duh. Ow. My face. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Send us a textWant to land a consulting role in China? This episode breaks down what makes the 2025 recruiting process one of the most competitive and unique in the world.We cover:How applications, assessments, and interviews differ in mainland China vs. Hong KongWhy bilingual skills, academic strength, and international exposure matter more here than almost anywhere elseWhat to expect from digital assessments, group cases, and market-specific interview themes2025 salary benchmarks across McKinsey, Bain, BCG, OW, LEK, and moreFor the full playbook, download Management Consulted's 2025 China Recruitment Roadmap – free. It includes office-by-office insights, target schools, visa info, timelines, and a complete salary table for Shanghai, Beijing, and Hong Kong.Additional Resources:Join Black Belt for coaching, CV edits, and case prep tailored to China's competitive recruiting processFollow along on YouTubePartner Links:Learn more about NordStellar's Threat Exposure Management Program; unlock 20% off with code BLACKFRIDAY20 until Dec. 10, 2025Connect With Management Consulted Schedule free 15min consultation with the MC Team. Watch the video version of the podcast on YouTube! Follow us on LinkedIn, Instagram, and TikTok for the latest updates and industry insights! Join an upcoming live event - case interviews demos, expert panels, and more. Email us (team@managementconsulted.com) with questions or feedback.

Friendzone Skeptics: Part 1. Old classmates spend a week together, and find more. Based on a post by cilma rae. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chris Benbury and Jennifer Sanders tell the tale of how their friendship took decades to transform into a life connection. We're going to let them tell just how it happened. I'm Jennifer Sanders. In high school, I was Jenny, or Jenn. One fall day in the early nineties, Chris and I met at our high school. When? What, like the exact moment? Heck, I dunno. It was a small school, and everyone knew everyone; for the most part. It wasn't until after college that we'd connected again. Just friends, we'd meet up for lunch here and there. A text about family would show up, and one of us would respond with a smile or a few updates on their own life. He was always supportive of my goals, and I was very proud to know him and to witness all he had accomplished as well. Chris would date here and there, but there was never anything serious. I was so busy trying to move up in my career field that sometimes, I'd not even realize that two months had gone by since my last; um, well, even the thought of sex was rare. I was pretty happy excelling in the successes of my own business. It was when I turned 35 that I realized I might have let a little too much time go by. "Jenn," my mom lamented in her usual way on our weekly call, "when am I gonna have grand babies?" "Um, Mom? You have six grandchildren," I reminded her as I thought about my three nephews and three nieces produced by the mix of my three brothers and their amazing wives. "Oh, Jennifer," Mom chided, "you know what I mean. You're my only daughter. No boyfriend, at least that I've heard of. No talk of relationships at all. What about Chris? Do you still talk to him? He was always such a sweet boy in high school. You mentioned that you two keep in touch, right?" "Oh, Mother!" I argued. "Chris is a friend, a very good one at that. It's not like that though." "Well, just think on it, OK?" she requested as if my answer wasn't acceptable. "You never know. I mean, remember how I told you that I didn't realize I was meant to be with your father until;" "Until he kissed you, I know," I mocked and shook my head as I had said each word exactly as she had, only my words were dripping with sarcasm. "Mom, I have never been in a position to kiss Chris. He's a good friend. He dates. We share stories and encourage each other in our work ventures. It's just not like that." "OK, I'm just saying;" she announced as she always did when she finally gave up. "Are you coming for Easter?" "Of course, Mom," I answered as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'll bring the pistachio salad as usual, and it's my turn to bring their basket contents this year." "Oh, honey," Mom noted and signed. "I know you're the only one without kids, but the boys sure do appreciate that you participate in the 'taking turns' idea for the kids." I couldn't help but smile as she called my 31 , 32, and 34 year-old brothers "the boys." I think I'd actually have to put more brain power into grasping who they were if she were to refer to them as "my brothers." She had always grouped them together when speaking with me. "Oh, believe me," I corrected of her apology, "it's not only no bother, but I'm stoked to get to fill their baskets once every four years. I look forward to earning my properly worded title of 'Best Aunt Ever' twice in those years. Naturally, I have that honor every Christmas!" "Yes, well, just don't show up your brothers with too expensive gifts," she reminded me as she did all the time. She was unaware that I made sure to reach out to my sisters-in-law each year to not only get great (and appropriate) gifts for the family celebration, but also added a few for under their trees in their own homes which would be marked from "Santa." It made my heart full to give them a little extra since I had the means to do it. As I laid in bed that night, I thought about what my mom had suggested. Chris? Really? Had I ever thought about that option? I scoffed and shook my head in the dark. Nah. He was just a friend! I was about to fall asleep when my phone chirped. It was charging on the table next to my bed, so I reached over blindly and picked it up. "I'm really sorry if this is waking you, but I need to talk to you." I didn't think twice and called Chris' sister, Cindy, to see what was going on. We hadn't talked in a long while, but I had her number saved from a surprise party we had thrown for Chris when he had turned 30. "Jenn?" Cindy questioned when answering on the second ring. "Yeah, Cindy, it's me," I confirmed. "What's up?" "Chris was in a car accident!" she exclaimed and let out a sigh as she took the moment to catch her bearings. "Well, oh, gosh," I reacted as I wasn't sure what the severity was. "Is he OK?" I asked as most humans would think to ask next. "Yes, thank God!" Cindy answered and hiccupped. "Oh, I guess I should have led with that. His car is totaled thanks to the jerk who cut him off, but we are at the hospital because he has some injuries." "That makes sense," I replied and shook my head. "Cindy, what's up? I mean, I appreciate the call, and I am happy to check in on him tomorrow, but;" "Well, that's just it," Cindy quickly interrupted. "Um, yeah; so, Dex and I were supposed to be leaving tonight for a week away. Chris is going to need some assistance, so I was wondering, you know, if maybe you could help out?" "Help out?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Cindy, what exactly does 'need some assistance' mean?" "Um, well; he has a concussion, so the doctor mentioned that he shouldn't be left alone for a while," she explained. "No more than a week or so, I think. I mean, as his only sibling, it was logical that I was asked to do it, you know? But we have these tickets, and the trip;" "So, how would it work?" I asked before she rubbed in her little romantic vacation anymore. "He will obviously not be able to work. Would he be able to come to stay at my place, or?" "Oh, I asked that too," Cindy answered. "The doctor said it is best at his place since he knows it the best. You know, corners, walls, and stuff in case he gets dizzy." "So, I'd have to move into his place?" "Yeah," she answered and got quiet. I ran over the short list in my head of other people who could possibly take the position of which I was being offered and realized there was no one else who could do it. His mom was too old and didn't get around very well. His dad was out of the picture. His guy friends were either busy with their married lives or irresponsible enough to not trust in such a position. No, Cindy was right to call me. Now I had to get going. Did I pack? What about my place? Could I leave to check on it throughout the week? Could he come with me? So many questions. "Jenn, are you still there?" I nearly dropped the phone when I heard Cindy calling out to me. "Shoot! Oh, Cindy, I'm sorry. Yes, tell the doctor I'll be there within the hour. I'll grab my things and figure out the other stuff tomorrow. Will you be there?" "Oh, um, we were going to go since he's asleep. Did you need me to stay;" "No, go," I answered and shook my head as I said it. "Go have a blast on your trip. Check in as you can, but don't worry. I'll take care of him." "Oh, thank you, Jenn! I knew you'd be there for him." We continued our niceties as I got dressed again and packed while she told me his room number and promised to text me the information too. We hung up as I zipped my bad shut and headed for the bedroom door. I pointed at the several places my most immediately needed items were usually located and found that I'd packed them all, including my phone charger.     When I entered the hospital, I made my way to the elevator to go straight to Chris' room. I knew it was after hours for the most part, but if I was going to be his person, I had to get in there to speak with the doctor to find out what was required of me. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" a nurse asked as I was looking at the wall to find which direction I needed to go to find the room. "I'm here to see Chris Benbury," I explained. "My name is Jennifer;" "Sanders?" She questioned and nodded when I showed surprise. "Sorry. Chris' sister, Cindy, told us to be expecting you. I'm Marita, and I was here when Chris was brought in, so you can come to me if you have any questions or concerns until 6am when the shift changes. Come with me, hun, and we'll get you comfortable in his room. When I see the doctor, I'll send him in to answer your questions." "Thank you," I answered quietly. The severity of Chris' injuries was still in question, but the fact that I was walking in a hospital being led by a nurse hit me a little. I felt the emotions welling up, so I put up my finger as if to request that we stop so I could collect myself. "Oh, honey! It's alright!" Marita sympathized and rubbed my back. "He's going to be just fine!" I laughed a little at her need to comfort me and shook my head as I wiped my eyes. "Oh, my gosh. This is so stupid. I can't believe I'm standing here crying. I don't know what's come over me!" I inhaled deeply and accepted the tissue Marita offered. As I wiped my eyes, I let out another laugh. "I'm alright. It's just that I am standing here in a hospital, and the sudden realization that Chris could have been really hurt badly, or even;" "Oops! No, no, girl," Marita chided. "No, we aren't going down that road. Chris is going to be just fine. He just got banged up a little. We are monitoring him well, but once you take him home, he'll improve each day. It's just the concussion that has us worried a little bit." "I appreciate it," I responded and nodded. "Thank you. Thanks for letting me get this out before we go in there." "Honey, I gotchu," Marita offered and patted my back again. "Ready? He's right in here." I nodded, so the nurse gave a gentle knock on the door and then pushed it open. It would appear that she did the knocking thing as a habit, but she also seemed to know he was going to be asleep when we walked in. "He has a concussion from the collision. From what I heard, he was turning right onto the street when an impatient son of a b, ," she began to say but stopped herself and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, I mean; when the other driver came along on the shoulder to pass him. I don't know for sure, but the police indicated that the man was being impatient and tried to go around illegally. Because the other driver wasn't paying attention, Chris' continued proper turn into his lane caused a sudden need for the other guy to have to swerve and slammed directly into Chris' car." "Yeah," I replied as I bent over to look at the face of the man who held the honor of one of my longest running friendships, "Cindy mentioned that his car was totaled. It's a shame," I noted as I pushed some hair from Chris' forehead, "because he loved that car. He had it ordered exactly the way he had wanted it only about nine months ago." "That is a shame," Marita echoed. "Well, he's going to have some bruises and aches and pains for a good few days, but other than that, it's the dizziness which might be an issue." Marita continued to check stats and document them since she was in the room. "Well, I'll leave you to visit with him. You can pull out the bed, and the remote is next to his bed if you want to watch something. When I see the doctor, I'll let him know you're here and waiting for instructions." "Thank you, Marita," I responded and nodded.   My name is Christopher Benbury. This is how I got around to getting together with Jennnifer. "Jenn?" My best friend, Jenn Sanders, awoke and looked around as if to try figuring out where she was and who was calling her name. "Jenn? What are you doing here?" I repeated. "Hmm, Chris," she answered and raised her arms to stretch. The chair must have been comfortable, but I don't think she had expected to fall asleep quite so deeply. "Cindy called me after your accident," she explained. "Since she's got her trip with Dax, I came to be your aide for the next week as you heal." "She called you?" I asked and reached up to touch my head. "Ow, stupid headache. Oh, crap! Cindy's trip. Wasn't there anyone else she could have called?" "Wow," she answered sarcastically. "Thanks." "Oh, shit, Jenn," I responded suddenly. I wanted to smack my forehead for acting the way I was. It wasn't her fault I was in an accident, my car had been totaled, and I was waking up in a hospital. "Oh, crap, that's not what I meant. I just; why did she have to bother you?" "Well, I did the math as I pondered my ability to help out, and it comes down to the fact that I'm the only logical person since she's not available. Your mom isn't capable. Andy, Doug, and Erik are either married or, let's face it; not entirely responsible enough to hardly care for themselves; Doug," she muttered, though audibly. I couldn't blame her. Last she'd heard, Doug had locked himself out of his house in a drunken stupor and just slept on the concrete porch one late night. It turned out that he'd also opened his garage door and could have just gone into the house through there. Idiot. Had the weather been ten degrees colder, he could have died. When telling the story, though, he laughed all the way through it and proudly showed off his frozen burnt skin on his arm. I had to reach for Jenn's hand while he told his story to remind her that beating the crap out of the moron wasn't going to change anything. "OK, I suppose you have a point," I realized and laid my head back on the pillow. "Has the doctor been in?" "If he came in while I was sleeping, he didn't wake me up," she answered and stood up to stretch. "Would you want me to call Marita?" "Who?" I asked. Was I supposed to know who that was? Was she already trying to get out of helping me? Was Marita an aide who helped my mom? Why would Jenn know Mom's aides' names? "The nurse," she answered. "I can push the call button and have her come here to check on you, and maybe we could;" "Knock, knock!" Marita announced as she opened the door. "I thought I heard voices! Well, hello there, handsome! And good morning, Jennifer. Last time I was in here, you were hovering over him like a concerned lovebird." I looked over at Jenn, but she was watching Marita, and I couldn't see her face. Was she looking at me with concern? Lovebird? In all the time we'd be hanging out and talking, it had only ever been friendly. Lunches, a rare trip to the movies and shared popcorn, and texts almost every day. But more than friends? Why had Marita said it like that? "The doctor got called away to do surgery in the big city," Marita explained as she messed with the computer and attachments hooked up to my body, "so he left your case, Chris, with Dr. Chesney Ryan. She's due to come in at around 7am this morning. It's 5:30am now. Do either of you need anything? Chris, what is your pain level? Anything other than your head hurting, hun?" "Ask me again once I get out of bed," I requested and sighed. I pulled over the covers and realized I was in a gown. Well, crap. Nice way for my friend to see me for the first time in something other than normal clothes. Maybe I could hold the back together; "How about you, Jenn?" Marita asked. Fortunately, she was keeping Jenn's attention. Or maybe Jenn was just being kind and sparing me the humiliation. I held both sides of my gown together as I hurried to the bathroom to do my business. My friend. Jennifer Sanders and I met during our freshman year of high school. She was always kind to me. We hung out in large groups on occasion, and we laughed a lot when we sat next to one another in homeroom two years in a row. That was a lucky thing for me when many of the other parts of my life sucked so badly. I won't get into it, but let's just say, going to school was a blessing, especially when I got to see Jenn. I chickened out when dances came around, so she was never the wiser that I had a huge crush on her. All throughout high school, I had the pleasure of her company, so why ruin that? I decided during our junior year when I had heard that she'd accepted yet another request for her companionship as the quarterback's date for the next dance of the year to just let go of the dream that one day, she'd want me. And so it went. We graduated from high school in May. We went our separate ways, crossed paths at a restaurant and exchanged cell phone numbers, and reconnected. I have heard from her at least once a week, though recently, if I go two days without hearing from her, I check in. She has always given me the indication that she enjoys my company when we go out to lunch together, and laughter and endless chatting is a given. After countless times of having my mother and sister asking me why Jenn wasn't more to me, I threw up my hands and told them it just wasn't meant to be. Friendship is important to me, and the idea of scaring her away with my declaration of love just wasn't one to deal with. Waking up this morning and finding her there in the room with me was a shock, and I wasn't in the right mindset to acknowledge that my sister had asked Jenn to stay with me. It still wasn't sinking in. I think once the doctor came into the room to discuss the upcoming week of healing, we'd both begin to understand just what was expected of her. I just hoped she wouldn't abandon ship. OK, yes, she'd never do that, but would it cross her mind? When I walked into the room again, Jenn was going through her bag. "Oh, hey," she greeted me again. "I'm supposed to remind you to let Marita know before she leaves if you have any other concerns or pains. She's off at 6am." With her arm full of clothes, she pointed with her other hand. "Are you done in the bathroom? I was hoping to freshen up." "What for?" I asked as I covered myself with the sheet. "You're beautiful as always." "Oh, Chris," she chided and shook her head. "You're both biased and obligated to say so. We old people need to stick together," she claimed, to which I shook my head while rolling my eyes. Because she was always teasing that we were getting old. "And you have to say that because you know if you're mean to me, you'll be left all alone in that big house of yours when I storm out leaving you without anyone to pick you up when you faint." "Doesn't mean it's not true," I argued as she closed the bathroom door. If I was going too far, because I'd never said much of anything before indicating that I saw her as more than a friend, I could claim the concussion as an excuse.   Jenn Dr. Ryan came in just as Marita had indicated at around 7am. She was pleased with the tests she ran on Chris, but she was extremely glad to know that I had planned to spend the week with him at his place. "In the first few days, you should not spend much time on your feet. A shower is fine; but leave the door open so she can hear you. Try not to stand at the stove, for instance." "Oh, I've got meals covered all week," I interjected. "But what about walking?" "OK, good to know about the meals," Dr. Ryan responded. "No strenuous exercise, obviously, but walking is good. Jenn, perhaps plan to hold his arm so that you can feel his speed and stability. Fresh air is definitely helpful." "His bedroom is on the second floor," I informed the doctor. "Oh, I'll be taking the couch," Chris noted. "What?" I asked and shook my head. "Why would you?" "Actually, that's probably a great idea," Dr. Ryan responded. "Even if you help him up the stairs, he will need to come down. If everything is on the main floor, less to be concerned about." "Ha!" Chris teased. I stuck my tongue out at him. He was chivalrous, sure, but he was also stubborn. I could just as easily have stayed on the couch. "Well, I think I'm going to get the paperwork going for discharge," Dr. James told us both as she smirked at our playful nature. Jenn, if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call my number." I reached out to take her card and gave her raised eyebrows. Her personal number? "I've found that having the patient or caregiver calling me instead of a hospital has dramatically helped in reducing unnecessary trips to the hospital, not to mention going through the painful process of hunting me or another doctor down. I'd say eight out of ten times? Yeah, one-minute Q & A, and the situation is handled. I can give up a minute here or there." I shook my head while smiling. Dr. Ryan just shrugged and winked at Chris. "Welp, are you ready to ditch this joint?" I asked Chris and laughed at my own expression. "Meals? Walks? And you're totally taking my bedroom," Chris added and pointed at me. "How long have you been planning these things?" "Before I fell asleep, I made a list of things I wanted to do or have handled. My brother will stop at my house to get the stuff I'll be texting him once I've assessed things at your house." "Which brother?" Chris asked. "Luke. Duh," I teased. He knew that too. Not only was Luke the brother I was closest to, but he lived closest also. "Well, I never know for sure which gospel writer it'll be," Chris teased. "Well, you know the answer is never John," I lamented. As you can probably surmise, my brothers' names are Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but my parents started with Luke (after me). Since my dad is John, he decided to go in reverse order. I never got that question wrong in Sunday school. "Anyways, he, Luke, will stop in each day at my house. I've contacted my troop and informed them of this situation. I'll be off work other than checking emails, so you can have my full attention." "Oh, well, lucky me," Chris teased. "I'd say so," I shot back. "So, my mail and house are covered. Luke will bring me my food and ingredients for all meals I have planned, and I will order the rest to be delivered." "My treat, of course," Chris interrupted. "I already have an account. I'll add whatever you want to get, but I'm paying." I huffed dramatically. "Ugh, fine," I whined. "We can watch movies, take naps, go for walks, and see how you're feeling each day." "I think Cindy called my boss last night, so I'll just check in with him when we get to my place," Chris noted. He inhaled for a second and then let out the air in a huff. "Jenn, are you sure you want to do this?" "Alright, that's twice," I accused. "What's with you? We went over this already. Why don't you want me to be with you? What did I do? Do you want me to call Doug?" "Jenn! No!" Chris exclaimed. He motioned for me to come sit by him. Seeing as he was still wearing that stupid gown, he couldn't exactly get up. I bowed my head and walked over to stand by the bed. He reached over to take my hand. "Sit, please." Once I did, he continued. "Jenn, I can't begin to explain to you how much it means to me that you're willing to help me out. This stupid accident, my totaled car, Cindy's vacation, my concussion, missing work, rearranging your life so that you can move in with me to babysit me;" "Wait, wait," I argued. "I'm not just some caregiver off the street. It's not like we just met at work a few years ago. I'm not just doing this because you need someone to help you. You're like; my best friend, Chris." I sighed and relaxed a little. "This is stupid, this little fit we're having. Look, you're in a situation that requires help. I'm in a situation that allows me to help you. You'd totally do the same for me, right?" "I mean, I guess, but your parents could easily;" "Chris, cut it out," I argued and playfully slapped his arm. "You'd totally do it and hardly take 'no' for an answer, right?" Chris nodded. "Let me do this. Let's make the most of it. We're always saying at lunches that we should do that more often. Well, we've got about a week's worth of meals to enjoy together. Besides," I teased, "you can see what kind of a cook I am. Maybe after this week, you'll see why it's good that we meet up at restaurants all the time." I shrugged, but Chris didn't laugh. "I just really appreciate it, Jenn," Chris stated quietly. "I'm not used to this, you know? I live alone. I don't depend on anyone. I haven't in years." "Yeah, well, me too," I agreed. "So, let's just see what happens, alright?" I requested and got up because the daytime nurse had knocked and entered the room. "Time to get dressed, young man," Georgie instructed and winked at me as she stood behind him to make sure his bottom remained covered. I turned and checked my bag to give him the decency of a little privacy. As we made our way to Chris' place, we made small talk. I had a list in my head of things needing to be done, but for now, I was thinking that picking up coffee and breakfast sandwiches seemed like the right move. The way Chris' face lit up at the mention of those things made me smile. Once in the house, I began going over my list of necessary items to make all the meals I'd planned for the week. I had a good idea of what I had at my own place since I had made my plans for the weeks' worth of meals a day earlier, so I just had to see what Chris had. I texted my brother the list, thanked him, and told Chris what needed to be purchased for delivery. Once that was all done, I took my things upstairs to his room and set myself up. I still felt bad for taking his room, but he assured me that he was going to sleep just fine on the couch. I only agreed if he was cool with me checking on him randomly throughout the night. He shrugged and agreed. He and I both handled work things for about an hour until the delivery came. I unpacked the groceries and made lunch. Chris joined me at the table, and we talked about movies we'd enjoy throughout the week. It was decided to go with any movies from our high school days for nostalgia's sake. While on a short walk around the block, I offered my arm, but he suggested holding my hand instead. I shrugged and gave it to him. I can't explain what happened, but something inside me awakened. My stomach tightened, my head swam a little, my heart rate sped up, and my skin tingled. He didn't seem to notice, so I tried to play it off and listen to what he was telling me.   Chris "What a beautiful day, huh?" I asked and looked around at our surroundings. "I'm surprised we don't even need a jacket. Easter is a couple weeks away, and I feel like it might even be shorts weather for some egg hunters this year." Jenn laughed. "Remember a couple years ago when you said that at lunch? It snowed on Easter morning that year. I made a comment to my mom about it when I woke up and found it white outside. I literally said aloud to my bedroom, 'Ha! Chris was totally wrong this time!'" "Alright, alright," I admitted and laughed with her. "I suppose I can be wrong some of the time." I squeezed her hand which made her look over at me. She had a different look in her eye than usual, but then again, we didn't ever hold hands like we were either. I admit, I suggested holding her hand for a few other reasons than just her ability to sense that I was losing stability. I had always wondered what it would be like to hold her hand. I wondered if I could get her to dance with me one day too. Maybe it wasn't too late to know what it felt like to hold her in my arms like I had wished for all those years ago. "Shall we go once more around, or was that enough for the day?" Jenn asked, which snapped me out of my little daydream. "Let's play it safe," I suggested and nodded toward the house. "Come on. I feel a little nap coming soon." "Ooo, a nap sounds amazing," Jenn reflected and smiled. "I might even sneak one in too. So, how's your head?" "Oh, I didn't even realize that the headache is practically gone," I informed her and smiled. I almost made mention about her ability to leave earlier than expected, but she didn't seem to like those comments. I guess it did make me seem hard on myself. I just didn't want her to feel like she had to be there if she didn't want to be. I made a pact with myself to stop the shitty comments degrading my self-esteem. She wasn't wrong. It was rather depressing to hear those words, even coming out of my own mouth. "That's great!" Jenn responded and gave me a thumbs up. "Well, let's get you inside and set you up for a nap." Jenn stopped and turned to face me. I had just realized that we were still holding hands. "In fact, let's head upstairs. We can both lie down, and that way, if you need something or don't feel right, I'll be right there." "Um, I mean, yeah. That seems like a good idea." "Right?" Jenn answered. "And also, you can take a shower, grab some fresh clothes, and then we can head down to have dinner and watch a movie or two." So, that's what we did. Jenn laid on the other part of my king size bed once I was set up on my usual side. We fell asleep facing away from each other. She'd set her alarm for two hours for "just in case." We didn't think a longer nap would be good for us. Sleeping the day away wasn't going to help me any, and she didn't want to be too awake at bedtime. I took my shower and tried not to think about the gorgeous woman sitting in my room waiting for me to finish. I thought about a quick release while in there, but even I was nervous that doing so would possibly cause me to become dizzy, and I certainly didn't need her to figure out what had caused me to pass out. Apparently, Luke had come while I was in the shower, so the kitchen was a little more stocked with meal stuff Jenn had planned for. When I came out of the shower, a few more items were sitting on her bag too, so I guessed she'd put those things in the bathroom for herself to use once I was situated downstairs on the couch. Dinner was awesome. The movies were fun and provided several opportunities to laugh, talk about memories that came from the time we had seen the movie or who we saw it with. My mom called to check in on me, and Cindy apparently texted Jenn to let her know that they had made it safely to their destination. Jenn tucked me in, and then she retired upstairs to go to bed. I think she checked in on me a few times, but she didn't disturb me. I woke up to smells of coffee and breakfast. This chick sure knew the way to my heart, intentional or not. I sat up and jumped when Jenn came walking in with a plate and fresh cup of coffee. "Good morning! Rise and shine," Jenn greeted me and set the items down on my coffee table. She left me alone for a minute and then brought her own plate and coffee mug in with her to join me. I generally preferred to eat at the kitchen table for all meals, but this just felt; natural. I really liked it. We checked in on work stuff, watched a little daytime television, walked around the block holding hands, ate lunch, took a little trip to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions and a few other things Jenn needed. I wasn't sure. I stayed in the car because she said she'd just run in to grab them along with my meds. When we got home, she took me by the hand and led me upstairs so we could take a nap. There weren't many words. We did that a lot lately. It was like we could just communicate without using all the words. We were falling into a nice routine which seemed to be working for us. I fell asleep facing her back this time.   Jenn When I woke up, I realized first that my back was pressed up to something, and something else was holding me there. I opened my eyes to find myself being spooned by Chris. I froze. Wait, why was this so incredibly comfortable? Was it simply because I hadn't been intimate with anyone in; ? Well, it had been a long time. He stirred behind me and squeezed me to his body. Good; ness, did it feel amazing, or what? I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what could happen if I allowed myself the idea of being with Chris. The way it felt to hold his hand was really nice. The way we were always laughing, talking, being open with one another; oh crap! Was my mom possibly right about him? Had I never even given the idea a thought because we'd been friends for so long? I slid my hand down the arm he had over my stomach and rested it on top of his. I sighed and tried to imagine what a life with him could look like. Oh, gosh. What was I doing? Was I just caught up in this special circumstance where we happened to both be off work, hanging out with no obligations? Well, it was only Day Two, right? Couldn't I just see where it went? Chris stirred behind me, so I waited to see what he'd do. Slowly, he pulled back from me and gently slid his hand out from under mine. He must have assumed I was still sleeping. I inhaled deeply and stirred as if his movement woke me. "Hmm, hey," I greeted him and turned to face him. He'd slid far enough away that it didn't feel too awkward. "How'd you sleep?" Nothing came across as awkward, so we went on with our day and continued to go on with the day as usual. Days Three and Four went very much the same, each event bringing us closer together. A routine had been setting in, and the two of us seemed to enjoy the familiarity of each other and the circumstances in which we'd found ourselves. On Day Five, I found myself feeling rather sleepy during the late morning walk, so Chris pleaded for me to allow him to make us some lunch this time. I nodded and rested back into my cozy living room chair as the TV lulled me to sleep.   Chris So, I was making lunch when I realized that Jenn was fast asleep on the chair. I knew I could just leave her there, but I was going to be good for a nap too, so I ate my sandwich after packing hers up in a baggie and walked into the living room to assess the best approach. I covered her with a blanket since she had her hands tucked into her armpits and slid my arms beneath her to carry her up to the bedroom. Once she was settled, I faced her and smiled at the beautiful woman lying beside me in my bed. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead before closing my eyes to fall asleep. What woke me actually surprised me. It wasn't the movement on the bed, but the little kiss I felt against my cheek. I started a bit, but the hand holding mine just squeezed it. "Hi there," Jenn greeted me and smiled as she inhaled deeply. "I must have fallen asleep. Did you carry me upstairs, or did I just stay too asleep to not realize it? Oh; and lunch?" "You were out before I had the bread on the counter," I teased. "I ate quickly and put yours in a bag for after our naps." I took my turn to inhale deeply. I'd had the best sleep during all these naps. I didn't want to imagine what else was going away when the week was over. "Well, shower time if you want," Jenn mentioned. "I'm going to go downstairs to eat and set out the stuff for dinner." She looked over as she slid her hand out of mine. "You good?" "Yep," I answered instinctively. "See you down there." "You betcha," she answered and pointed at me and winked as she smiled and headed toward the door. I was about to get up when she came back in suddenly. "Oh, Chris?" "Hmm?" "Thanks for doing that," she answered. "I have had some great naps. I feel like this week has been a vacation, and it's the best I've ever had. I just; I appreciate that, um; I just appreciate it." "Well, I won't be getting in any more accidents," I teased. "You had better not!" she agreed. "We got lucky with this one only messing with your head a little. I don't want to know how bad it could have been," she added. "I'm kinda getting used to having you around. Might need to step up our dinner dates to once a week instead of once every other month, right? Well, unless you're sick of me." "Nope, definitely not that," I answered quietly. "What?" she yelled as she descended the stairs. "I guess we'll see," I teased. Her laughter made me smile. Dinner was phenomenal as usual. Jenn had a real knack for cooking. I didn't do so badly at it, particularly with the foods I tended to gravitate to since I was almost always only cooking for me, but having her bring in these different dishes made me wish the week was going to last longer. And not just because it was someone else making the dishes. It was Jenn, and I wanted it all: the time, the food, the girl. Yes, especially the girl. Rather than heading to the living room after dinner, I offered to do the dishes. "Go take a bath in the tub. It has jets. Go relax. I promise, if I feel even the least bit lightheaded, I'll sit down at the table. But I'll be fine. Go relax before we watch tonight's movie. We only picked one, remember?" "Thanks, I think I'll do that," she answered. I was relieved. Jenn needed to enjoy the amenities of this "vacation" as she'd called it. I was thrilled that she was enjoying the time with me as much as I was loving this time with her. I hoped it would actually lead to more meals spent together. Who knew what the future held, right? That night, once she'd made sure I was set for the night, she headed upstairs. I was flipping through channels not even acknowledging what was on the television. I was about to turn off the TV when I heard her coming down the stairs. I went ahead and set the remote on the table and pretended to be asleep. I figured she'd come over to check on me, and (forgive me, but; ) maybe I'd be able to sneak a peek. She wore shorts and a tank top to bed, at least while she'd been sleeping over, and I wondered if I might get to see a little something when she bent over to check on me. Rather than coming over to the couch, though, Jenn walked into the kitchen. As I turned to see what she was doing, I found myself staring at her cute, little panty-covered ass. She was reaching up into the cabinet for something. I wasn't sure what it was that she needed so badly, but it was enough for her to keep trying. Now was my chance. I had no idea what I was going to do, but the time was there, and I was taking the chance. I walked up behind Jenn and pressed into her as I reached up into the cabinet to get the box on the top shelf. My mouth had gone dry from staring at her, and my heart was pounding. As I brought the box down, I recognized the label. What the hell did she need condoms for? "Jenn?" "Chris," she replied in a whisper. "What's up?" "I, um; I thought you'd be asleep," she justified. "I;" "; needed condoms in the middle of the night?" "Yes," she answered and exhaled a ragged breath. She was shaking. "Why?" I asked as I set the box on the counter. I leaned forward as I shut the cabinet door and smiled a little to myself as I could feel her ass pressed up against my crotch. "Jenn, what's going on?" "I was going to check on you," she answered and, only to surprise me more, rested her head against my chest. "I; I was going to see if you, um;" I leaned down to brush my lips along her neck. "To see if I; what, Jenn?" Her response was just as I'd hoped. She pressed her bottom into my groin and moaned as I licked her earlobe. "What do you want, Jenn?" I whispered into her ear. With a moan, Jenn looked up at me with pleading eyes. "What is it?" "Kiss me," she breathed and reached up to slide her hand behind my head and into my hair. I leaned down and put my lips to hers. Fireworks. Good God! It was nothing like I had imagined, and so much more amazing than I thought possible. Jenn's moans indicated that she felt the same. To be continued. Based on a post by cilma rae, for Literotica.

Joining Robert Pilot: Kahomy Weston of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi announcing the full design for the project, some exciting new details about the project to share. Robert Lillegren C.E.O Native American Community Development Institute – NACDI

Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne单词提示1.tunnel 隧道2.torches 火把3.pickaxe 镐原文Chapter 5: Lost in the TunnelsWe put our rope through holes in the rocks on the sides of the walls, then climbed down.Hans went first, then my uncle, then me.Every two hundred feet, we found a flat rock to stop on.We pulled the rope down from above us, tied it to a new rock, then started again.We did this for almost ten hours.We travelled 2,000 feet down.Finally,Hans said something. "Stop!"It was only one word, but it was nice to finally hear his voice."What happened?""We're at the bottom."The professor and I looked at him."Of what?""I don't know."There was a turn in the hole.There was an open area like a cave at the bottom of the hole, which continued to the right.Our bags were there.After ten hours of climbing down, we were very tired.We decided to spend the night there.In the morning, we continued our journey down.The hole now opened and looked more like a tunnel.We did not need to climb because we could walk down this tunnel.We used our torches, so we could see the rock on the walls clearly.It looked like glass of different colors.Some of it was red, some was brown, and some was yellow.My uncle saw me looking at it."That's from the lava.""It's beautiful.""So,you're starting to enjoy our journey. There's more to see. Come along."We walked for two more days and we found other tunnels.There were tunnels everywhere, but we did not know which was the right one.Unluckily,our water finished."Now,what are we going to do?""We're going to find a spring. There are many, but we have to go down further."I could not move. I was very tired and thirsty and thinking of Grauben."Uncle,I can't go on.""Axel,please. We are going to find water.""Water!"It was Hans' voice."What did you say?""Water!"There was a loud sound behind the wall next to us.It sounded like the water of a river.Hans took a pickaxe and made a hole in the wall.Water came out onto the floor around us."It old you, Axel. Water! Ow! It's hot. Don't touch it. It needs air. We're too far underground."The water was cold enough to drink after a few minutes and we all felt strong again.We continued our journey but I made a serious mistake.I was very excited about finding the water and I went first.I walked too far in front of the others and I got lost.I tried to go back, but I could not find them.I shouted their names."Uncle!Hans!" I could only hear my own voice in the tunnel.I was afraid. I ran.Then I fell. I fell through the air down along tunnel.Then I hit my head and everything went black around me.翻译第五章：在隧道里迷路我们把绳子穿过墙边岩石上的洞，然后往下爬。汉斯先去，然后是我叔叔，最后是我。每隔200英尺，我们就找一块平坦的岩石停下来。我们把绳子从头上拉下来，把它系在一块新的岩石上，然后又开始了。我们这样做了将近10个小时。我们向下飞行了2000英尺。最后，汉斯说了些什么。“住手!”虽然只有一个词，但终于听到了他的声音，感觉很好。“发生什么事了?”“我们在最底层。”教授和我看着他。“什么底部?”“我不知道。”洞里有个转弯。在洞的底部有一块像洞穴一样的空地，一直延伸到右边。我们的行李在那里。爬了十个小时下来，我们都很累了。我们决定在那里过夜。早上，我们继续下山的旅程。这个洞现在打开了，看起来更像一条隧道。我们不需要爬，因为我们可以走下这条隧道。我们用了手电筒，所以我们能清楚地看到墙上的岩石。它看起来像不同颜色的玻璃。有些是红色的，有些是棕色的，还有一些是黄色的。我叔叔看见我在看它。“那是熔岩留下的。”“很漂亮。”“所以，你开始享受我们的旅程了。还有更多的东西要看。过来。”我们又走了两天，发现了其他地道。到处都是隧道，但我们不知道哪一条是正确的。不幸的是，我们的水喝完了。“现在，我们该怎么办呢？”“我们要去找一个泉水。有很多，但我们必须进一步深入。”我动弹不得。我又累又渴，想起了格劳本。“叔叔，我走不下去了。”“阿克塞尔。我们会找到水的。”“水!”那是汉斯的声音。“你说什么？”“水!”我们旁边的墙后面有一声巨响。这声音听起来像河水的声音。汉斯拿起鹤嘴锄，在墙上挖了一个洞。水涌到了我们周围的地板上。“我告诉过你，阿克塞尔。水!噢!它是热的。别碰它。它需要空气。我们在地下太深了。”水凉了，几分钟后就可以喝了，我们都觉得精力充沛了。我们继续我们的旅程，但我犯了一个严重的错误。我很兴奋找到了水，我先去了。我在别人前面走得太远了，所以迷路了。我想回去，但找不到他们。我喊着他们的名字。“叔叔!汉斯!”我只能在隧道里听到自己的声音。我很害怕。我跑。然后我摔倒了。我顺着隧道从空中掉了下来。然后我撞到了头，周围一片漆黑。

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The Time Riders: Part 5 A Labyrinth Palace. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. The non-descript carriage had indeed made its way through Paris' winding streets, taking well over an hour to finally stop in front of the palace and allowing Mark to get out of the cramped cab before it rattled off. The sun had set some time ago, and night hung over the city heavily, the cloying air of Paris carrying the city's growing pains to his ears. Even at night, the city was not silent. Mark adjusted his outfit and marched toward the outermost gate of the vast palace, its arms spread wide and encompassing a massive courtyard. Two men wearing ornate red uniforms and holding pikes crossed their weapons at his approach, barring his entry. One of them gruffly asked him to state his business. Trusting to the plan, Mark said nothing, but merely held out one of his sealed letters, this one bearing the emblem of Richelieu. The guard examined it for several seconds, consulting with the other guard before handing it back and then opening the gate. Mark shot them both a dirty look for holding him up in his errand and then swept inside, doing his best to look haughty and full of bravado, which is what the Musketeers were apparently renowned for. He couldn't help but reflect that they seemed a lot less heroic than history let on and were more dickbags than anything else. Oh well. Faking being a dickbag was probably significantly easier than pretending to be a hero. He passed through another gate that got him closer to the palace, this one also manned by the Swiss Guard. He arrogantly presented them with the Richelieu missive, which once again satisfied their scrutiny and he was allowed to pass. He forced himself to not look around in wonder at his surroundings, instead heading straight to the great doors that would give him admittance to the palace. Alex once again presented his letter, but this time the guards squinted at him suspiciously. "Qui es tou?" demanded one of them. His throat was dry, but he answered as readily as he could, trying to sound authoritative and even haughty. "J'mappelle Benat de Ferres, of Soule, Second Company of the King's Musketeers under Monsieur de Treville. Let me through." "Fucking Basques and Gascons," muttered one of the guards in irritation. "Why would a musketeer be bringing a missive to his excellency, the Cardinal?" he demanded to know. Mark concealed his anxiety by looking pissed and rattling off one of the phrases Alexandra had given him, hoping it had the desired effect. "I have an idea, why don't we all go ask the Cardinal and you can fucking explain to him why you held up his envoy on an important errand? Does that sound good to you?" The two men looked at one another warily; the visitor was certainly obnoxious enough to be a Musketeer and a Gascon. Sighing and shaking his head in defeat, the one man handed the sealed letter back to Mark and they opened the doors, allowing him entrance. He swept by them, calling them shitheads in Spanish before the doors closed behind him. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help Gawking as he stared at the palace around him; its splendor was beyond anything he had imagined. Walls of white plaster, carved in exquisite shapes and edged in royal purple, along with gold filigree, and incredible paintings and artifacts lined the walls. Endless numbers of servants scurried by, hardly noticing him. He shut his eyes for a moment and composed himself, remembering the details Alexandra had shown him, the way through the palace. He turned and began his search for his teacher. Lisette walked primly through the halls of the palace, bowing her head deferentially to just about everyone who passed her. Wearing an elegant gown, she seemed to almost glide along the hallway, walking with a practiced ease that her mistress had taught her. She had, in three years, only been in the royal presence twice before, in attendance to Lady Alexandra. The king had barely noticed her, but Lisette didn't mind one bit, because this was far more of a life than she ever could have hoped for. She had, of course, spent much more time in the presence of the queen, because her mistress served Anne directly. Anne of Austria seemed mostly amused by Lady Alexandra's quirky servant, but she was kind to Lisette, often sending her home with gifts of chocolate. Her devotion to the queen, while not equal to her fanatic love for Lady Alexandra, meant she would die in Anne's name if necessary. She hoped it wouldn't come to that tonight, but she had made her peace with God and the Lady Mary all the same. Alexandra had set her with the task of removing or distracting every guard she could from the route Mark would take through the palace. She was not to kill anyone, nor was she to be seen in the mayhem, if at all possible. If things went wrong, she was to retreat to the queen's quarters and be seen protecting her. It was the best alibi she could hope for. A guard up ahead. He was a sullen-looking brute, not carrying the long pikes of the gate guards, but a much more practical halberd, along with a short rapier on his belt. She knew he'd be trouble. She ducked into an alcove and pulled a small phial out of her cleavage, drinking the strong red wine from it and sloshing it around in her mouth, to make sure the aroma was on her breath. Replacing the phial, she lurched back out into the hallway and sauntered toward him lazily. "Hello, beautiful," she said drunkenly, giving him a lopsided smile. "You must' be off-duty by now." "No, I am not," he grunted, not looking at her. "Go away, slut." "C'mon," Lisette persisted, leering at him as she leaned against the wall to his left. "We could be having fun. Don' you like fun?" "Duty is not meant to be fun." "But these are fun," she drawled, as she stepped in front of him and leaned forward, using her hands to pull down the front of her bodice and exposing her perky tits to the man, whose eyes went wide at the sight. "These are all the fun you'll need;” He didn't stop her as she sidled up to him, stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around his neck. Her breath was sweet with wine, her dark eyes glassy with the lack of inhibition it brought on. Her tits pressed to his chest, her hips flat to his crotch. "Take me into that room and fuck me;” she breathed huskily, her lips no more than an inch from his. "I want to feel you inside me;” The man was rather pale at her suggestion, but nodded readily and turned around to open the door. The parlor behind was empty, the perfect place for a rendezvous with this slattern. She took him by the hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. Mark walked down the hallway, trying to not look like he was hurrying, and staying alert. He was entering a difficult part of the operation, because he was no longer in an area of the palace that led to either the king's quarters or those of Cardinal Richelieu. If anyone stopped him now, he would probably be redirected rather forcefully, and he had precious little time to waste. He walked by a door, from which he heard a moaning noise. Then he heard a familiar woman's voice, gasping and urging someone on. His translator bud wasn't close enough to hear what was being said, but he was fairly certain he knew what was happening. He subtly pushed the door open and peered inside. Mark gaped as he watched Lisette, leaning over a small table, panting while a member of the House Guard fucked her from behind, her layered skirt bunched over her ass as he pushed in and out of her. The guard remained oblivious, but she noticed the door open and flicked a glance his way. She gave him an annoyed look and jerked her head, indicating that she had this covered and he needed to keep moving. He nodded and pulled the door shut quietly before heading down the hall again. He turned a corner and then headed up some stairs, leading up to the next floor, which was apparently where Becky was being kept. He was so busy thinking about what he needed to do next that he blundered right into two guards, who grunted and then glared at him angrily. "Stupid shit!" the one man he had smacked into spat. "Watch where you are; who are you?" Mark went wide-eyed, not having expected them. His mouth seemed to work, but no sounds came forth. They blocked his ascent and continued to glare at him. "Who; are; you?" the man demanded again. Mark regained control of his voice and tried to speak. "My name is; my name is Benat;” Fuck, he'd forgotten his last name. "My name is Benat DeFlepard," he managed to say. "I am from Sully and I have' "What sort of name is DeFlepard?" snarled the one guard. "I have sealed orders," Mark interrupted, not liking where this was going. "From the Cardinal!" "Is that so?" sneered the man. "Let's see them!" Mark handed him the sealed missive scroll. The man examined it and frowned. "This is the king's seal," he growled. "What is the meaning of this?” Before the man could finish his query, Mark punched him in the face and then pulled his crème-colored tabard over his head and threw him down the stairs. The guard cursed loudly as he rolled at least two floors. Mark was too late to stop the other man from drawing his short rapier, but managed to grapple onto him, keeping himself from being run through. Mark might have been taller, but the guard was a veteran of many wars, strong and cunning. It wasn't long before he had Mark's back pressed against the wall, both men fighting for balance on the stairs. "Little shit!" he shouted, trying to press the edge of his blade against Mark's throat and slit it. They tussled, and Mark managed to wedge his arm between his neck and the rapier, feeling the sickening cold pain of the keen edge creasing his forearm. His free hand, however, snaked down to the pistol on his belt, twisting the leather until the muzzle pointed down; The stairwell echoed with a thunderous crack as Mark pulled the trigger and discharged the weapon, the iron ball punching a hole in the guard's boot and then his foot. The man groaned and staggered, releasing Mark. His ears ringing, Mark managed to shove the man down the stairs, following his comrade. He shook his head and began sprinting up the stairs, knowing the whole palace would be coming down on his head any second now. Alexandra was concealed in a secret closet in a parlor not far from the queen's quarters, listening carefully. She was wearing the red uniform of the Cardinal's personal guard, her impressive bust flattened and pulled tight with linen straps. Her golden hair was held in a ponytail while a black mask concealed her facial features. Her rapier sat on her hip and three customized pistols were concealed around her person, along with several knives balanced for throwing. She heard the discharge of a firearm, followed by shouts of alarm and fright. She hung her head and sighed. She'd been hoping it wouldn't come to this, but there seemed to be nothing for it. She would see her obligation met. Alexandra crossed herself and exited the hidden space, heading toward the Cardinal's quarters, determined to cause a distraction for Mark as he went in the opposite direction to rescue Rebecca. It was all in God's hands now. All she could hope was that Mark had remembered what his name was. Mark raced down the hallway, ignoring people who poked their heads out of various rooms and parlors to see what all the commotion was, before closing their doors and locking them in panic at the sight of him. He had his sword in one hand, his pistol in the other. Having discharged his shot already and having no idea how to readily and safely reload the damn thing, the pistol was mostly for intimidation purposes at this point. Thankfully, if he pointed it at people, they tended to make themselves scarce. A guard rushed around the corner, his halberd in hand, but Mark smashed the ornate swept hilt of his rapier into his mouth, which dissolved in a welter of blood, lips and gum before he burbled and fell over. Mark kept running. He shoulder-blocked his way past another guard, but then found himself confronted by a small group of angry servant girls, who kept swearing in French and throwing bread rolls and potatoes at him. Covering his head, he sprinted past them, resisting the urge to take a swipe at the uppity wenches. There was the room! He raced up to it and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Given the amount of noise and commotion he was causing, he shouldn't have been surprised. He stepped back and then slammed the heel of his sturdy boot into the door with all his might, knocking it out of its frame and falling to the floor. He rushed inside, looking around for his teacher, but she was nowhere in sight. That's when the heavy vase smashed into the back of his head. He was on his face on the floor, reality swimming around him. He heard someone hissing at him as he was handled roughly by his neck and his tunic. He was turned onto his back and someone was straddling him now, their supple legs on either side of his throat and their heavy skirt bunched up between their legs, allowing him to goggle up at his assaulter. "Becky! Stop! Stop, I; Ow! Jesus! Quit Hitting Me! It's Me, Mark!" The flurry of fists halted and then there was a pause thick with confusion. He felt his cheeks being gripped tightly, immobilizing his face and then his neck pulled up so that whoever was sitting on him could look at him. "Mark?" Becky exclaimed in disbelief. "Mark! Oh my God!" She began smothering him with feverish kisses, still straddling him. Still dizzy, he was in no particular shape to stop her, in spite of the fact the whole palace was on its way to kill him. His eyes finally managed to focus, and he looked up at her. "I've missed you too, Becks, but can you let me up, please?" Becky blinked and then jumped off him hastily, helping him to his feet. She still seemed stunned to see him, not that he blamed her. "How?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief and wet with emotion. "You; you were." "Dead? Yeah, kinda." "The how are you here?" she asked, trembling. He shrugged. "To quote Neil De Grasse-Tyson, science, bitches." "Oh, it doesn't matter," she exhaled, crushing herself to him and hugging tight, her body shaking with raw emotion. "You're back, Mark. You came back for me;” He smiled and hugged her back, his hand on the back of her head. "Well sure I did. You're my time-travelling partner, aren't you? Can't leave you here with these smelly savages." She laugh-choked back a sob and look up at him, her eyes leaking tears onto her scarlet cheeks. "And we're gonna get out of here and; Becks, are you, like, really drunk?" Her expression of delight warped into a scowl at his query and she pushed herself away from him. "Well what do you expect? I only spent the past month trying to kill myself with alcohol while you were taking your unscheduled nap, you jerk!" "I'm sorry," he faltered, knowing that this couldn't possibly be the right time to make her angry, on so many levels. "Let me get you out of here and then I'll explain everything." "Hang on;” she huffed, stomping over to a table and grabbing her bottle of wine, tilting her head back and taking a stiff pull from it gulping loudly. Mark made a wan face and fidgeted, acutely aware of the time they were losing. "Becks, no offense, but I'm pretty sure every guard in Paris is looking for me right now, and I' "Sounds like more of a you problem than a me problem," she grunted, attempting to drain the bottle with several loud glucks. "Nobody was trying to kill me while I was here." "No, you seem to have that covered;” he said dryly. She shot him a nasty look, but didn't stop drinking. "Look, we need to go," he insisted. "Pretty sure Alexandra's risking her neck to make sure I can' "Alexandra?" Becky interrupted, stopping drinking to look at him pointedly. "The gorgeous blonde I want to fuck?" "I; sure," Mark replied, trying to keep up. "Pretty sure she and Lisette are' "Who's Lisette?" Becky asked suspiciously, lurching toward him. She was quite a bit drunker than he'd initially thought. "It doesn't matter," he declared, determined to get moving before Richelieu arrested and shot his ass again. "We need to get' Mark winced in fear as she surged toward him, the bottle raised over her head. She flew by him and smashed the bottle down on the head of a guard who had barged into the room. His eyes rolled up into his head and he went to sleep. "Weren't you drunk moments ago?" Mark asked in disbelief. "Looks like you're the one who need rescuing." Becky shot back. "You were half a second away from having an exit wound the size of an airport runway in your chest just now." Another guard sprang around the corner. Becky, who was closest to the door, kicked him savagely between the legs. The man staggered to a stop and stiffened, but didn't fall over, the impact of her foot cushioned by the many layers of baroque skirt she was wearing, not to mention the dainty, padded slipper. As the man gaped at her, she kicked him between the legs again, but her skirt interfered, softening the blow to the place where he merely doubled over from the ache. Becky snarled angrily, lunged in, grabbed him by the neck and DDT him, almost as smoothly as ‘Jake the Snake' did to fellow pro wrestlers. This time he stayed down. "Jerk!" she muttered, glaring at the man. Without a second thought, she used a knife on the man's belt to tear layers of skirt away, leaving herself clad only in the bodice and skimpy underwear, with garters holding up the silk stockings she wore. She knelt on the unconscious man's back and pulled his boots off, replacing her slippers with the sturdier footwear. She then stripped his rapier and pistol from his person before turning to look at Mark. "You ready now?" she asked pointedly, standing there in what basically amounted to negligee and musketeer boots, while holding a rapier and a wheellock pistol. He gaped at her for a moment, unable to say anything. "You have no idea how stupidly sexy you look right now, Becks." Mark managed to say. "I'll believe it when Alexandra says it to me," she sniffed, turning and heading out the door. "Let's go, hero." Mark sighed and trotted after her, leaving the two men lying on the floor in a spreading pool of wine and broken shards of glass. Lisette made sure the guard was arranged comfortably in the plush chair, snoring, his breeches still around his ankles, his soft cock oozing cum all over his balls. She shook her head in exasperation as she rearranged her skirts; no sooner had the man cum than he yawned and began to fall asleep. She'd been nowhere close to climaxing when he'd finished. Typical male. At least the boy from the future liked to make sure she came first, even if he was a naïve school boy. She left the door open, to make sure his shame was on display and then hurried down the hallway, holding her skirt up and allowing herself to run. The palace was ringing with shouts of alarm, anger and panic. Everything seemed to be going as planned, whatever that entailed. She just trusted that Mistress knew what she was doing. Guards from various regiments were racing around now, getting one another's way and shouting orders angrily. She passed through them virtually unnoticed, merely a servant girl looking for shelter. She made a beeline right for the queen's royal apartments, and she was stopped by no one, since she was known to the guards and stuff. She nodded hastily as she passed two guards outside the ornate doors and headed inside the boudoir. Anne of Austria looked up from a book to see Lisette scurry in, closing the door behind herself and then pressing her ear to the door, ignoring everyone else in the room. She then saw the queen, blinked, curtseyed hastily, and went back to eavesdropping on the frenzy of activity outside. The monarch shook her head wearily and went back to reading her book. "You may not pass through here!" shouted the house guard, blocking Alexandra's passage forward. She had identified herself as a member of the Cardinal's guard, using her well-practiced man's voice to give credit to her guise. Thought he believed her, the man remained unmoved, barring her way. "I told you, I need to reach the Cardinal!" she insisted, knowing full well he would not let her through. "That is no concern of mine," he said coldly, glaring at her, his hand on his sword, ready to draw it. "Find another way to reach your Cardinal, because if you come another step closer, I will run you through." "So be it!" she growled as she lunged in, her own rapier flashing in her hand. The man drew his weapon and thrust at her, but she parried and then drove the point of her blade through the shoulder of his sword arm, pinning him against the wall. He groaned as his sword fell to the ground, but then her foot slammed into his face while she pulled her rapier from his shoulder. He was unconscious, but he would live. She had no cause to kill these men. She ran down the hallway, listening all the while to the commotion that echoed through the Louvre. A young guard barred her progress at a juncture in the hallways, and before he was even ready, she struck him across the head with the basket of her rapier, knocking him out. Alexandra continued along the corridor, but then saw several guards rushing into the other end of the hall, outside of an ornate door that led to the king's royal apartments. Upon seeing her, the six men pointed their muskets at her, three kneeling while the other three stood behind. A series of barks shook the area as she ducked around a corner hastily, avoiding their barrage. She could hear them shouting orders to reload. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. Idiots. Before they had reloaded, she had pulled a small device made of two pieces of flint out of her pocket, along with a tiny clay pot out of the other. From the hole in the top of the pot hung a thin strip of rigid paper. She held the pot by its flat bottom and snapped the flint pieces against one another, producing sparks that caught on the paper and began to burn. As the flame made its way down the paper wick, she counted slowly and calmly before leaning around the corner, tossing the pot, which skated on its flat bottom along the floor toward the guards who opposed her. She then ducked back, waiting grimly. There were shouts and the sound of boots stampeding, but then an unreal hissing shriek and a bright, flaring white light as the magnesium powder inside the container ignited. Cries of pain followed. Ten seconds later, the light died, and she rounded the corner and strode down the hallway. Four of the six guards had fled before the grenade went off, while two were writhing on the ground, clutching at their eyes from the flash blindness. She stepped between them and kicked in the door toward the king's apartments before turning around and walking away, knowing that this would create additional confusion as they sought to find the assassin in the red tabard who sought to slay the Sun King. There was more chaos to sow. Mark and Becky sprinted down the hall, ignoring the pell-mell going on around them. Inevitably, though, they were confronted by a soldier of the Cardinal, one that Mark recognized. It was the captain who had shot him. Marks teeth clenched as he rushed forward, ready to run the sonofabitch through, but Becky was faster. She threw herself into a skid, sliding along the polished floor, hurtling straight toward the man. He gaped at her in disbelief, but by then, she had slammed her foot into his crotch, doubling him over with a grunt of unreal pain. With a roar, she surged to her feet, grabbed the man around the middle from behind and yanked him over backwards, suplexing his family jewels with zest. Mark had by now skidded to a halt and watched in disbelief while his teacher stood over the supine officer and kicked him in the ribs. "Bastard!" she raged. "Teach you to kill my students!" She knelt and yanked his head up, making sure his eyes were open as she pointed at Mark, her voice dripping with vitriol. "See that? He's alive! You can't even kill something right! Your life means nothing! Nothing!" She smacked his head off the tile floor and gathered up her weapons before looking at Mark, composing herself now. "Sorry," she said with a flush of embarrassment. "You probably wanted him, didn't you? I thought you were dead, so if I ever saw him again, I'd have to avenge you." Mark shrugged. "No harm done. Except to him, and I don't really' Mark stopped talking and stared down the hallway behind Becky. Three men in flamboyant uniforms, trimmed in blue and white like himself were now approaching them. One had a grim, patrician air and about him, the second a handsome boyish charm, while the third towered over the others by a head and shoulders, a contemptuous smirk on his face. "That can't be good;” he thought. Becky didn't even blink. Without turning around, she pointed her pistol backwards over her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The bark of the shot echoed around the palace and the giant staggered backward, eyes wide in shock, before he fell over like a redwood. The other two gaped at her in astonishment as she turned around to glower at them. They hastily took hold of their downed friend and hauled him out of sight, their duty to the king forgotten. "That's right, ladies, run!" Becky called out, her chest heaving. "How's it feel to get beat up by a girl?" "You are so sexy right now, Becks." Mark chuckled, approaching her. She turned back to face him; covered with gunpowder smudges, scratches and the occasional bruise, she'd never looked more attractive to him. Heedless of their surroundings, she threw herself against him and kissed him shamelessly. His hands found her ass and squeezed as he returned the kiss and she moaned into his mouth. If there'd been a rhino horn on his crotch, he'd have been impaled on it. She broke the kiss and looked at him hungrily, her eyes shouldering with desire. "I'm so glad you're not dead, Mark," she breathed. "I can't wait to prove it to you when we get the fuck out of here." Mark took her hand and pulled her down the hallway, breaking into a run. They weren't out of danger yet. "What're you laughing about?" she asked, scowling while she allowed him to lead her through the palace. "I think that was Porthos you shot," he said almost cheerfully. "Becks, you ganked Porthos." "Oh, I did not," she hissed, trying to not feel disgust at her student's lack of historical knowledge and basic temporal mechanics. "Porthos doesn't die until 1670. So if that guy dies, it wasn't Porthos. If it was Porthos, he isn't dead. Read a book, Mark." "Ha, you said bookmark!" he laughed as he pulled her around a corner and down another hallway, trying to reach the point Alexandra had designated. "Uh!" Becky groused. "Why was I so damn happy that you lived? I swear, Mark, I; Ack!" They both whirled in panic and threw themselves back around the corner as a withering hail of musket fire peppered the plaster of the walls where they'd been standing mere seconds before. They scrambled to their feet and began running back the way they'd come, determined to not die in some baroque version of Bullet Hell from the Matrix. "Fucking shit!" Mark yelped, yanking her around another corner as more soldiers appeared and filled the hall with musket balls. "This sucks!" "Ya' think?" she hissed as they kept running, their options becoming increasingly limited. "I'm in this too, Mister Spotlight!" "Yeah, well at least you don't have the Goblin City Battle music from the Labyrinth soundtrack stuck in your head while they chase us around and try to kill us!" "I do now, you fucker! Thanks a lot!" Becky raged. A lone house guard skidded to a stop near them and prepared to fire. Mark flung his pistol at the man, striking him in the head before knocking him aside as they continued down the corridor. "What did you throw your gun away for, dumbass?" she exclaimed, wondering if blood loss after getting shot had permanently damaged Mark's brain. She hoped he could still get it up, if they made it out of here. "It had no ammo in it." Mark grunted, trying to get his bearings, thinking back to the plans of the palace Alexandra had shown him. "Why were you carrying around an empty pistol?" Becky asked in disbelief. "Intimidation purposes? Were you gonna hold it sideways when you pointed it at people, hope you looked all gangster?" "I plugged a guy on my way to find you, okay?" he sighed as they kept running. "The first shot fired that started this whole mess, it was me shooting some jackoff in the foot as I tried to find you." Becky skidded to a stop, halting Mark's flight as well. She looked into his eyes and then hugged him in relief. "Thank you, Mark," she said quietly. "You came for me, after you nearly died, and we both could today. You're very brave." When she ended the hug, Mark found she had put her own pistol in his hands. He frowned in confusion. "Why'd you give me your pistol?" he asked. "Because let's face it, I'm a lot more likely to snag another one than you are," she sighed. "Let's go, I'm done with the Sun King's France." Out of breath, they settled for trotting down a hallway, surrounded by the echoing sounds of chaos. Things had gotten so confused that the guards were all fighting one another now, thinking the enemy in their midst. Panting, the pair stopped suddenly as they came to a major intersection of hallways. Not far away, a confused brawl consisting of house guard and the Cardinal's guard blocked their passage. Upon their appearance, though, both sides paused in their fight and stared at them. Then a captain raised a call to kill them. Without even thinking, Mark pointed his pistol at the huge iron chandelier over the soldier's heads and fired. The plaster ceiling broke as the iron ball struck at and the chandelier plummeted, crashing into the dozens of men before while clouds of plaster dust filled the hall. "I can't believe that worked!" Mark laughed as they ran down another venue. "Yes, it was very impressive, Gene Kelly," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "Next, you'll be swinging from the damn chandeliers or using your knife to ride down tapestries." Soldiers surged around the corner, charging into the couple. Mark shouted in fury as they tried to skewer him while they attempted to wrestle Becky to the ground. He dodged a blade and slashed his foe across the arm before leaping back to try and give himself room. He looked around in a panic and saw Becky kicking a soldier in the nuts before punching another in the face, her eyes flashing with fury. Someone slammed into him from behind and he tumbled forward, scrambling to gain his feet. More bodies joined the fracas and he realized that they were not only trying to kill him but fighting one another as well. It was difficult to breathe. There were too many bodies smothering him. He gasped in panic and strained to find room for himself. His shaking hand gripped a sword and she shoved it forward indiscriminately, feeling something soft give before him. He focused all his effort on crawling forward, finally emerging from the churning pile of men, locked in combat. He dragged himself along the floor but then grunted in pain as something speared into his thigh from above and behind. He turned to look, his eyes watering in pain, seeing a man in red, glaring at him, raising his rapier for another strike. Then a sword point burst through the man's chest from behind. His eyes widened, and he dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground. The man who had killed him was already moving on to another target. Exhausted and dull with pain, Mark dragged himself to a wall and slumped against it, looking around for Becky, but she was nowhere to be seen. No. Not again. He ignored the maelstrom of violence and pushed himself to his feet, limping down a hallway, sword held loosely in his hand as he went to find his teacher. Alexandra strode down the hall with purpose, her senses keen for trouble. She had caused as much trouble as she could, all the while keeping the fray well away from the queen's quarters. She regretted that men would die today, due to their poor judgement, but she understood that the girl Rebecca could not remain here in Paris. A deep foreboding warned her that almost any price was worth paying to see her safely away. Sparring with D'Artagnan. She stopped as a lone figure came into view, blocking her way down the corridor. He wore the blue of the king's mousquetaires, his young face etched with determination. His hand rested on the hilt of his rapier while he observed her. "So," he began, tilting his head. "You must be the cause of all this mayhem, oui?" "I am not who you seek." Alexandra said plainly. "I do not truck with liars and I do not appreciate being lied to!" the young man snapped. "I would have your name before I run you through in the king's. Are you an agent of Buckingham?" "No." "Charles of Spain?" "I have no time for this," Alexandra said testily, putting her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Move aside and let me complete my task, musketeer!" "Then it is death you crave!" he hissed, his rapier flashing in his hand now. "I shall happily give it to you in the queen's honor!" Alexandra drew her blade as her foe rushed forward. She parried his initial thrust and then counter-thrust, which he swatted aside. A flurry of thrusts and ripostes followed, the two warriors measuring one another, vying for advantage in the narrow hallway. Steel rang and flashed. Alexandra's sword point tore a vent in one of her foe's sleeves, and she followed up with a swipe at his eyes, but he dodged away nimbly. He lunged in with the speed of a striking serpent and she caught his blade on hers before it pierced her stomach, turning it aside. They pressed blade-to-blade, moving around one another in a slow, deadly circle, their eyes locked. He danced away again as a main-gauche flashed in her hand, nearly shearing his throat open. He spun around her next attack, and when he was facing her again, a pistol had appeared in his free hand. At point blank range, he pulled the trigger. The thunderous bark of the firearm rattled her teeth as she bent backwards, the bullet passing harmlessly overhead. Alexandra somersaulted backward gracefully, coming to her feet with her rapier guarding against a follow-up attack. A lot of bemusement crossed his face. "Very pretty, good sir," he said. "But it will not save you." He darted in again and another furious exchange of swordplay followed. His blade kissed the top of her thigh, leaving a shining crimson thread on her skin. She paid him in kind with a nick across his cheek, followed by cutting the red plume from his hat. He was nearly as fast as she was, and his recklessness made him dangerously unpredictable, even to one as skilled and experienced as Alexandra. Their blades grated as they strained against one another, teeth clenched and eyes flashing in fury. With a cry of effort, she shoved with all her might and threw him back. He kept his feet and remained on guard, irritated by his foe's grit and skill. "D'Artagnan!" shouted Athos as he and Aramis dragged the unconscious Porthos across the hallway behind the combatants, disappearing from sight. This distracted the Musketeer, who turned to look behind himself in confusion and then disbelief. He glanced back at his foe and then sighed, sheathing his blade. "Until next time, enemy mine;” he said, before darting around the corner to catch up with his comrades. Alexandra waited some seconds after he was gone and then sagged against the wall, sighing heavily. She rubbed her face for a moment before returning her rapier to its sheathe and continuing on. She had to find Mark and Rebecca. The door to the room swung open and Mark staggered inside, panting in pain. His entire leg felt like it was on fire, and it was maddeningly sticky. He had lost his sword while searching for Becky, but it mattered little if he couldn't find her. He tumbled into a sitting position, propping himself up on his hands and trying to breathe. Everything hurt now, and it was getting to the place where he couldn't move. His head throbbed and he was getting dizzy. With extreme effort, he managed to tear one of his sleeves off, and tied it around his leg, hoping it would act as a tourniquet and perhaps staunch the bleeding. It stung like fucking Hell and to his distress did nothing ease his pain. He sat there panting, when a solemn figure in red moved slowly by the door. There was a pause and then the person came back into view, peering at Mark quizzically. Clad in red robes and a little red skull cap, his tight, lemony features creased in recognition and then disbelief. "I know you," the Cardinal murmured, his eyes never leaving Mark. "Yes, you are the boy from the field, the one who claimed to be a Spanish noble and had the pretty girl with him." He stepped closer, still scrutinizing Mark, who tried to move backwards, his body screaming in protest. "But you died," the elderly man stated. "My captain shot you. You died in that field. What witchcraft is this?" Annoyance flashed in the Cardinal's eyes now. "So, you are the cause of all this tumult. The girl I was to give to the queen, she is missing and now I know why." He pulled a pistol from within the voluminous folds of his red robes and cocked it before pointing the muzzle down at Mark's face. "I think it is time I dealt with this problem myself, once and for all." Too hurt and exhausted to fight back, Mark squeezed his eyes shut; "I Kick You In The Nuts, Richelieu!" shrilled a voice from the doorway behind the Cardinal, the shout followed by a sickening thump as a musketeer's boot appeared beneath Richelieu's groin. The man stiffened for a moment in confusion, but then his eyes crossed, and he bit his lower lip as his skin turned a sickly shade of green. While Richelieu slumped forward and then fell on his side, trembling and holding the family jewels, Mark goggled up at Becky, who stood indignantly in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring down at His Eminence. "Asshole;” she muttered as she stepped over the Cardinal and came over to Mark, who was shaking with the effort of holding himself up. Her eyes welled with emotion as she knelt next to him. "Oh, Mark," she said in a gentle voice. "Look at you, you got stabbed, baby. I'm so sorry;” "I'll be alright," he managed to say as she hugged him to her. "At least you still look amazing, no matter how badly your ass has been kicked." Becky's laugh choked back her sob and she smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "Smart-ass," she murmured. "C'mon, let me bind your boo-boo properly and then we'll get out of here, before everyone in Paris is dead." She fixed his makeshift tourniquet and then helped him stand. Once he was upright, he took a deep breath and smiled at her. "I think I can walk, I was just in need of a breather, ya' know?" She giggled. "How the Hell are we gonna explain a rapier wound through your thigh when you get home?" "With any luck, Chester will have a little something' to fix me right up." Mark replied. "Let's go. If we are where I think we are, then our ride isn't that far away." They walked cautiously down several smaller hallways, avoiding any and all encounters. They chaos seemed to have abated, at least for now. Alexandra had predicted that if fighting broke out, there was be lots of confused violence, followed by the various guard companies withdrawing to their assigned wings of the palace, to directly protect their charges, such as the king, queen and cardinal. "Bet the Cardinal's guards are gonna be upset," Mark chuckled. "He's nowhere near his quarters, and they let him get kicked in the freaking balls." Becky giggled as she walked alongside him, her arm through his. "You have no idea how good that felt, Mark. A girl could get used to that. Maybe we should visit Berlin, see if I can kick Hitler in the nuts." "One grand adventure at a time, teach;” he said wearily, causing her to laugh. But her mirth was brought up short when a solitary figure appeared in front of them, wearing red and clad in a black mask, a rapier and several pistols on their belt. Becky scowled, getting ready to step in front of her student, when Mark seemed to sigh in relief. "I am glad to see you are both well," said the person, walking forward, pulling their golden hair out of its ponytail and removing the mask. Becky's heart leapt as she came face-to-face with Lady Alexandra once more. "Thank the Lord." She stepped in and embraced them both, all three of them trembling at being reunited. Alexandra finally smiled at her friends and nodded. "We must still get you out of here, before the guards return to some sense of normalcy. Mark, do you still have the place name I gave to you?" Mark smiled wearily. "I; it's in the little pocket in my pants here, but it's probably pretty red and unreadable by now." "It's a good thing, then, that I wrote a copy, non?" Alexandra lilted, pulling a small piece of vellum out from beneath the sash she wore and handing it to Becky. "Go to this place," the noblewoman instructed. "By carriage, it should not take more than three days. It is a sanctum I use on occasion and it will be safe. Lisette and I will find you there a day or two after you arrive." She then handed two small, round jars into Becky's palm as well. "Use these to salve your wounds, until I arrive. I promise you, they will work." "How can we thank you?" Becky asked, staring at Alexandra, enchanted. The French woman smiled and then pulled Becky to her, kissing her deeply and passionately. Becky shuddered and moaned, her arms wrapping around Alexandra and returning the kiss passionately. Mark smiled as he watched the blondes make out for almost a minute before Alexandra reluctantly pulled away. "We need to stop, or we will be fucking right here in the halls of the palace," she breathed, wiping at the corner of her mouth with a finger. "We will see one another soon, and celebrate then." She turned to Mark and smiled before leaning in and kissing him gently. "You are a brave man, my friend. Never doubt it, no matter what travails Heaven provides." She walked them through several secret passages now, until they emerged into a small courtyard, under the cover of night. Standing nearby, a non-descript carriage awaited them. Alexandra wrapped Becky in a cloak and then spoke to the driver while the clambered inside. His instructions were clear, and he would not deviate from them. Becky and Mark looked out a small window, smiling and waving at Alexandra, who held up her hand to bid them farewell. The carriage exited the Louvre via a small gate where the guards asked no questions, and then they were on their way through Paris. Mark sank back into the surprisingly plush seat and sighed heavily. "Try not to get kidnapped again, Becks," he said lazily. "I'm not sure how much more of this my body can take." "But being rescued by you is one of my favorite reasons to use tawdry sex as a thank you," she protested, turning to smile at him and tracing a fingernail up and down his chest. "You wouldn't deprive me of that joy, would you, hero?" "Perish the thought, teach;” he chuckled tiredly. A time to recuperate. Mark had Lisette pinned beneath him and rocked back and forth on top of her, his cock plunging in and out of her molten cunt, while she groaned in pleasure. It felt so good to have this boy's tool inside her again. Her legs were wrapped around his strong waist and her hips moved in time with his, taking him in as deep as she could. Lisette rarely kissed anyone who wasn't her mistress, but in this case, she was making a willing exception. Their tongues tangled wetly as they fucked, exploring one another. The tingling heat was overtaking her, and she knew it would not be long now. She crossed her ankles behind him and she bit at the skin of his chest, shuddering in delight. Mark arched his back, pushing as deep inside her as he could, before shaking and allowing himself release. Her wanton cunt gripped his cock while he came deep inside her, his whole being awash with unreal pleasure. They moaned through a frenzied kiss and then sagged together, spent and sated, at least for now. Moans, pants and sighs of bliss attracted Mark and Lisette's attention and they looked off their side; also on the huge bed with them, Becky and Alexandra were sitting together, with their arms and legs wrapped around one another, kissing hungrily as they squirmed their slick pussies together. Their matching golden hair was damp with the sweat of their exertions, skin slick and shining. The greedy smacking and sucking sounds their slits made as they mingled made the four lovers shiver in delight. Alexandra and Becky were groping and fondling one another with unreal need, their nails leaving red marks and their fingers gripping tight enough to leave welts. Neither relented, though, desperate to cum together. The moans became groans and they were panting as they gyrated their hips, churning rhythmically in a sensual dance of bliss. They pulled tighter against one another, clenching their teeth and craning their necks as they peaked, then crying out and pressing their molten, gooey pussies as they came. More feverish kissing punctuated the climax and the finally both collapsed backward, chests heaving, their legs still scissored together. Steam seemed to be rising from their bodies, skin flushed pink. The four lovers lay silent for some minutes, just basking in their shared bliss. Mark finally pulled himself out of Lisette and then knelt over her face, allowing the dark-haired girl to slide his cock into her mouth, cleaning their mingled cum from his cock, which she did with great delight. Becky and Alexandra finally clasped wrists and pulled themselves up into a sitting position, hugging tiredly, but not willing to relinquish their most intimate contact. They kissed deeply and contentedly, fondling one another's tits. Lisette looked over at them and giggled. Alexandra looked over at her servant, her eyebrow raised. "What is so funny, girl?" Lisette turned on her side and rested her head on her hand while Mark spooned in behind her. "I was just thinking, Mistress; you and Miss Rebecca look so much alike. What if you are her ancestor?" Becky and Alexandra both thought about that, looked at one another for a moment, shrugged and began kissing again, their tongues tangling loudly. "And if that was the case, think about what we discussed the other day," she continued, smirking mischievously. "You said you had wondered what it would be like to Monsieur Mark's child, yes? Wouldn't that also make him Miss Rebecca's ancestor?" Mark burst out laughing while Becky choked on her shock, interrupting the kiss she had been so enjoying. She looked at Lisette in disbelief. Alexandra just sighed and shook her head, used to her servant's twisted humor. The moment of metaphysical terror passed for Becky and they all cuddled together in the center of the bed, kissing tenderly and caressing. Alexandra had told Becky all about Mark's efforts to find her and reach her, what he had undergone and risked. Becky's eyes shone as she looked at Mark at promised to make sure he was properly thanked until the end of time. "I wish you could stay," Alexandra almost moped, regretting that she had to give her new friends up. "I enjoy your company, and I am not ashamed to say I love you both." "Feeling's mutual, Alexa," Becky lilted, tracing a fingernail across her generous tit. "But maybe we needn't end our association. If we designate a consistent place, when you know you are available, you can leave a message there. Mark and I will check for messages, and when we see one, we can visit you at the appointed time. No conflicts or dangers presented, as long as we're all certain of the clear lines of communication." "I like that idea," Alexandra said, grinning. "And I have a gift for you both." She climbed off the bed and went to retrieve something. She returned shortly with two bottles, which she presented to them. "A new type of wine, invented in my native region of Champagne," she said, kneeling on the bed as they examined the bottles. "Twice fermented and sweet on the tongue, not unlike my darling Rebecca." Becky blushed and Mark grinned. "You'll be glad to know that in our time, champagne is one of the most expensive and sought-after drinks in the world, used in every important celebration." "That does please me, Mark." Alexandra said, nodding her head and deciding to not chide him this time about telling her the future. "And now that I think of it, literally, I've got a present for you, Alexa." Mark mused, getting off the bed. The three women watched as he walked into a large closet, rummaging around loudly. When he returned, he was holding what appeared to be several unusual books, which he handed to Alexandra. "What are these?" she asked, puzzled. "Well, the graphic novel is a pictorial history of Wonder Woman, who you may recall I told you a little bit about," he explained, sitting on the bed again. "And the other three books are all written by a man named Alexander Dumas and are fictional works about the Three Musketeers. I figured they'd be humorous reading for you." She looked up at him incredulously. "But; why were they in my closet here in my chalet?" He grinned again. "Well, just a moment ago, I decided to give them to you. So in a few days, I'm gonna gather them up, bring them here to just before Becky and I arrive, and bury 'em in your closet, where I know they are. That way, I don't run into any of us. And clearly it worked." Becky made a wry face. "Ya' know, I'd say you're getting the hang of this whole temporal travel thing, but I'm pretty sure you're only getting the hang of abusing it." Mark smirked at her and pinched her nipple, making her shiver and bite her lip. He then looked back at Alexandra. "And when you're done with 'em, you can just leave 'em in our drop-off spot and Becks and I'll pick them up. That way, there's no anachronistic copies of nineteenth-century novels or twentieth-century comic books lying around to be discovered by archaeologists." "I take back what I said just now, you're gonna get us all clock-hammered right out of existence." Becky sighed, causing her lovers to laugh. Mark and Becky lay side-by-side in her bed and holdings hands, back in their own time and generally none the worse for wear. They'd learned some valuable lessons and had made some important contacts along the way. "Do' you really think Alexandra's my ancestor?" Becky mused, looking at her bedroom ceiling. Mark shrugged. "You sure look a lot alike, and you're both Hell on wheels. I'm still amused by the notion of me being your great-great-great-whatever grandfather." She sighed and shook her head. "I can handle the notion of fucking and falling in love with my great-whatever grandmother, but the notion of you as my whatever grandfather gives me the jibblies. Just promise me you won't impregnate Alexa and make that come true, Mark." He chuckled. "I promise. I have no idea how trans-temporal alimony or visitation rights even work." Becky giggled and turned in to face him, cuddling close. "So, who're you gonna save me from next, hero?" she purred, nipping at his earlobe and making him shiver. "Oh, God, Becks, can we start out with some really ferocious kindergartners from the Roaring Twenties taking you hostage? I can probably handle that right about now." She giggled again and crawled on top of him, staring down into his eyes and kissing his nose while she squirmed her tits against him. "Take me to New York in the Twenties and I'll show you how liberated a flapper girl I can be," she whispered. "Deal?" "Deal." Mark replied, pulling her down and kissing her soulfully. Count Mark and Becky in! I Think I'm Getting The Hang Of This! Finally home. Mark sat at his dining room table, eating dutifully. His mom had prepared short ribs and mashed potatoes for dinner, one of his favorites. What she didn't know was that Mark had substituted several herbs and spices into her collection, items he'd brought back from his temporal travels. At the very least, this meant they were technically several hundred years old, or sometimes that they didn't exist in the modern era at all. "I'm enjoying this particular batch of thyme that I put in the braise," Dhallyla Pritchard remarked as she gently stabbed some green beans with her fork. "Mark, where did you say you got it for me? The flavor is so; special." Mark shrugged. "Another shop I thought I'd try out," he replied. "Nowhere near our usual places." "Well, keep it up, son," his father said, sitting at the other end of the table. "No offence to your mother's cooking, but the spices we were getting before weren't helping the cause. Now this is flavor." "Such a good little minion," his mom said sweetly, reaching over and pinching his cheek. "First, you did amazingly well on your Physics exam and boosted your overall grade to the place where the university accepted you, and now you're an herbs and spices guru. Talk about an unexpected change." "Yeah," his sister Roxy said, sitting across from him, and trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice. "Unexpected is right." "Now Roxy, be nice," their mom chided. "You should be happy for your little brother, he'll be going to university with you." "As long as she pulls her grades up," grunted dad, pausing in eating to waggle his fork in her general direction. "You promised us you'd keep your grades up and we'd let you live here rent-free as a result, Rox. We're living up to our end of the bargain, what's so difficult about yours?" "Maybe I should study more and party less," she grumbled, scowling at her food. She hated to admit it, but her mom was right, the spices were great. Where had the little trouser-snake bought them? "Ya' know, open my mind more and my legs less?" "Dear!" Dhallyla gasped, looking at her daughter in shock. "Nobody said you were behaving licentiously! There's no need to use language like that!" "Sorry," the dark-haired girl sighed, putting down her fork. "Just been on edge lately. Seems to have been The Mark Show around here recently,

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 30 Time For Celebrating! In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.   When I fell to Earth I realized perfection; Earth has everything while Heaven has no Evil. "Ask Belle," I replied. "This fight was for me being allowed on the bed. You still need to pay for breaking into her room." "What?" Leigh squeaked. "Come here, Slut," Belle laughed. She hooked an arm around Leigh's waist from behind and began dragging her back into the house. "Zane?" Leigh called out fearfully. "Coming, coming," I groaned. "I feel like someone dropped a cinderblock on my head, and my ribs." I staggered for the door only to be intercepted by Willa. "You are one freaking weird dude," she whispered. "You have no idea," I responded softly. As she came alongside, I put my arm around her waist, then down inside her panties, and cupped her right ass cheek. I gave it a good squeeze. I figure Willa could pull away or punch me in my sore ribs. Instead, she bumped my hip and put her head on my shoulder. "Have you ever been with another woman?" I asked. "No," she regarded me. "Willing to experiment?" I teased her. She smiled, snaked a hand along my back to my neck and finally grabbed a handful of hair. She pulled me down into a kiss and finished with her own devilish grin. I took that to be a yes. We made our way back to Belle's room, where Belle and I stripped out of our wet clothes. "You don't have to handcuff me," Leigh begged of Belle. "I'll behave." "I know you'll be a good girl, but I don't care. I'll do it because I want to," Belle taunted her. Leigh pouted and looked my way. I shrugged helplessly in response. She stripped, crawled to the middle of the bed, rolled onto her back, and put her wrists together just below her breasts. "I'd rather fight than be a victim," Belle mocked her as the bindings clicked shut. "No, that's some cock, you skank," Leigh wound up her courage. Belle's response was to retrieve the vibrator and turn it on. "Calling me a skank makes you feel tough, eh?" Belle closed in. The vibrator began rubbing against Leigh's thighs as I settled into the bed behind Belle. Willa resumed her position on the far side after she stripped down. Belle gave me a curious look over her shoulder before turning back to Leigh. I snuggled into Belle before nibbling and sucking on her neck and shoulder. As Belle pushed the vibrator between Leigh's labia, I ran my left arm down Belle's back and parted her ass cheeks. I could feel Belle look over her shoulder again, my lips were sucking on her shoulder at that moment, and visually question what I thought I was doing. I could sense a struggle going through her mind by the increased tenseness of her shoulders. She had to be deciding if she would let me distract her or not. A moment later she made up her mind; she bent her leg and pulled her knee toward her chest to make my access to her easier. I scooted farther down so I could move my hand below her ass and begin stroking her cunt, back to front. Belle wiggled the vibrator inside Leigh's cunt as my fingers worked her over. She kept it going until she felt my cock pushing past her ass cheeks. Belle didn't caution me about her anus; she didn't have to. When my cockhead touched her cunt, Belle responded by looking back at me, daring me to stick it in. "Do you want me to stop, Belle?" I gazed into her eyes. Belle's response was to suddenly push down on my cock, pushing it half way in with one thrust. "Fuck," she hissed. I grabbed her hip and finished driving my rod all the way in. I quickly withdrew, then slammed it home again. At the same time, I moved my right hand, pinned underneath me, under Belle's body, until I burrowed to her pelvis. Belle began humming as my hand reached her slender landing strip. I also noticed that her activity with Leigh had lightened up. Her cunt walls strongly massaged my cock's passage and the stimulation was soaking up more and more of Belle's attention. The vibrator cut off. Belle had dropped it so she could start pulling and pinching her breasts as my four fingers began to vigorously rub her clit. For five minutes I kept going at her sideways until she grabbed the sheets so she could shove her body into mine and almost pushed me off the bed. Her climax seized her, her breath came in short gasps and tremors passed from her body to mine. "Damn it," Belle cursed. It took me a moment to figure out what she was pissed about. She began thrusting back against me. "Still hard, huh?" she growled. Why, yes I was, but I wasn't going to tease her about it. I missed the visual exchange between Willa and Belle but the end result was Belle giving in, letting Leigh off the hook. "I'm getting on top, Zane," Belle demanded. What proceeded was a bit of bedroom acrobatics but I kept my cock inside as I moved towards the bed's center while Belle swung up to a reverse cowgirl position. I pushed up, palms on the bed behind me, and watched her ass begin to bounce on my lap. At first, Belle rested her hands on my shins and used that to balance her rocking and thrusting of the hips. "Don't, Zane," Belle panted as I pressed my chest against her back. When I wrapped my arms around her, she made one last protest. "Oh, damn you." I hugged Belle tight, my left arm around her stomach and the right around her chest. She slowed down for a few seconds before turning her upper body so that we could kiss. Our tongues flickered against each other, then slowly danced back and forth between our mouths. "I really should bite you right now," Belle sighed. "What the hell for?" I muttered. "I'm going to have to look across the room now and find a reason for not jumping your bones, you idiot," she breathed in short bursts. "Someone likes being 'Zaned'," Leigh teased. Willa slapped her somewhere; I couldn't see where. "Shut up unless you want to be tied up all night," Willa whispered. I was busy letting my hands migrate over Belle's tight body now that I had 'permission' to sex her up. I let Belle lean into me. Her hands cupped her breasts while my hands went from her shoulders to the top of the tits but avoided the nipples. I skated around her upper chest, linking my hands over her pulsing abdomen then lightly traveling down to her thighs. "You are not in a hurry," Belle observed breathlessly. "It is our first time," I reminded her. "Oh," was all she had to say. Her body rubbing against me was her real reply. It was with gradual ease that we upped our tempo until Belle finally 'gave it up' again. This time I came with her, and I completely spaced about a condom, again. Belle writhed her body against mine for almost a minute as we regained our composure and our breaths. "You came in me, didn't you?" Belle said seriously. "Yeah, I screwed up. I'm sorry," I groaned. "What are we going to name our kid?" Belle showed a tiny bit of mirth. "I'm partial to Beausephus if it is a boy," I told her as I kissed her neck, "and Andromeda if it is a girl." "Our kid is going to kick ass," Belle laughed. "Aren't you on the pill?" Leigh wondered. "Listen, you stupid Cunt," Belle twisted on my semi-rigid cock so she could lock eyes with Leigh, "do I look like I can afford Healthcare?" "Answer me, Bitch," Belle began wiggling off my lap and out of my arms. "Let it go," I begged Belle. "Don't think that just because you have my cock in my cunt, that makes me your bitch," Belle growled to me. "As your friend, I'm asking you to drop, 'my cock'?" I hesitated. "Just because MY cock is in your cunt doesn't make it your cock," I teased. "Crap, slip of the tongue," Belle mumbled. "It's okay," both Leigh and I said. "Several of our girls feel that way," Leigh added. "We feel possessive about that cock." "What she said," I finished. "That's why when it is not attached, I keep it in a locked box." Belle snorted and Willa and Leigh laughed. "You went with the detachable cock?" Belle stared at me. "That's so sad." "Hey, now," I blushed. "I have a horny naked biker babe sitting in my lap, with my cock in her cunt. I'm a little shaken up right now." "You can be real trying at times," Belle leaned into me compassionately. "What? You said you wanted me to try your ass?" I joked. "Okay." Belle's vaginal muscles constricted around my cock, exciting me to hardness again. "You rip up my ass and I'm going to rip off your balls," Belle grinned shark-like. "Your? No, I meant Willa's ass," I verbally back-pedaled. "Look, she's sitting there, ass up looking all inviting, lush, and full-formed." "You wouldn't dare," Willa smirked at me. By her own accounts, Willa loved anal sex, but apparently it wasn't something she normally shared. Belle's instincts were leading her past the deception. "Are you freaky, Willa?" Belle mocked her friend. "Hey," Leigh piped up. "Barbie Lynn likes it and she's no freak." I rolled onto my side, trying to let Belle slide off my shaft. "Am I going somewhere?" Belle turned and joked with me. I shrugged, put my left hand on her shoulder and pumped into her hard several times. "Okay, okay," Belle panted. "Go bang Willa. My cunt is still tingling from the last orgasm, Stud." Belle twisted onto her stomach which allowed my cock to pop free. Belle moaned sensually and lay there for a minute with her eyes closed. Dangerously, Leigh crawled over Belle's still form, retrieved something from Belle's nightstand, and handed it to me, lube. Leigh must have seen Belle pull it out and lube up the vibrator before shoving it in. Belle wasn't a total sadist. I slipped beside Willa who kept drinking me in with her eyes. "Where do you think you are going with that?" she said. Willa remained on her stomach, her ass proudly pointing up and proffered. "Would you like to try anal?" I winked. "I'm sure if you try it, you'll like it." "This won't make me your Old Lady," Willa teased back. "I'll try it. Let's see what you've got." "I only want to make you happy," I breathed into her ear. Willa shivered in anticipation. I brushed her hair to the far side of her head then kissed the top of her neck. Willa began to murmur pleasurably as I trailed butterfly kisses down her spine to her tailbone. A single finger stroked farther down to her cunt and down to her pubic mound. Willa was only lightly shaved, keeping her bush full. The return trip lingered around her anus, pushing slightly and making Willa moan. She opened her legs farther and farther apart as I continued to rub her gently. With my free hand, I opened the tube of lubricant and let it pour down her ass cheeks. I teased her sphincter twice but abandoned it to rub the thick liquid all over her cunt and perineum. Recall that Willa was going through a long, dry spell -- being an undercover officer in an outlaw biker gang, so she was bursting at the seams for sexual contact. "Damn it, Zane," she pleaded. "Willa, you are a freak," Belle chuckled. "Watching him work has gotten me so horny," Leigh whined. I ignored the peanut gallery; I was dripping oil on my three middle fingers, pushing my forefinger against Willa's sphincter. Willa must have really liked her experiences with anal sex because she relaxed her sphincter on contact and let me in. Man, her asshole felt hot compared to the slight chill of the room. My finger corkscrewed past the second knuckle when Willa let out another heartfelt moan. I pushed in a little farther while resuming my kisses on her back. Inside a minute, Leigh had sidled up to Willa and me. Belle had propped herself up with her pillow on the headboard but was studying the three of us intently. "You are acting like you've never seen a three-way before," I commented to Belle. "Not from the outside looking in," Belle shrugged. I had no immediate comeback to that. Saying something like 'maybe next time,' or 'enjoy the show' felt inappropriate. I devoted my attentions to Willa once more instead. Speaking of Willa, she was now relaxed enough for me to stick my ring finger into her anus. I noticed Leigh getting terribly interested in Willa's arousal. "Willa, rise up. Push up off the mattress for me, Babe," I coaxed Willa. She looked back at me, smiled lustfully, and began raising her ass. A few more twist and turns with my fingers and Willa was up on all fours, head down, and her face screened from view by her long, black hair. I was about to encourage Leigh but she was already slipping under Willa and putting her lips to Willa's closest tit. Willa's grunt rose over the sound of Leigh's suckling noise. I had to move completely to Willa's rear to allow Leigh more room to maneuver beneath Willa. Leigh's right hand quickly sought out Willa's cunt while her left began caressing Willa's right breast. I had to admire Leigh's enthusiasm as well as her willingness to not hold Belle's rough treatment against Willa. Belle began to rub her cunny as she watched us play. I also caught Willa shake her head ecstatically when I wormed my third finger into her butthole. "Someone's all excited," Leigh giggled, as she lifted up her fingers that had been in Willa's cunt for me to inspect. They weren't just slick; they dripped with her juices. Finally, Willa had enough. "Enough foreplay, Zane," she gasped. "Put that big cock in me. Stick it to me now." "Ask and you shall receive," I replied. With one hand on her hip and the other one on my rod I placed my throbbing cockhead against her mildly gaping sphincter. I could literally feel the breath slowly exhale from Willa's body as my cock first slipped inside her anal cavity. "Zane, Zane, Zane," she exulted softly as I inched my way inside her rectum. I had been wrong all this time; I had thought I'd never find someone who liked anal sex as much as Barbie Lynn, but here she was. She was tight, hot, and damp. By the snug fit I could tell she had abstained for some time but her reactions were pure pleasure, to me and her. I could also feel Leigh's fingers vibrating rapidly within Willa's cunt as well as her vaginal muscles squeezing them back. I let my penis sit there for a moment before withdrawing all but the head. I repeated this three times, with Willa moaning louder each time I thrust my deepest. "Hammer her," Belle demanded. "Her ass, her rules," I chastised the head Warlord Babe. "Hammer me, Zane," Willa virtually screamed. O-kay then, a hammering I will go. I plunged in without mercy. The first thrust nearly toppled her over but on the second one, I held her hips tightly and she pushed back to meet my attack. The loud smacking of skin began to echo throughout the room. "Don't, stop, un, til, you, fill, me, up," Willa gasped between lighting swift penetrations. I felt like my hips were moving in a blur. Willa's whole body was a mass of spasms beneath me. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Willa gasped, then she squealed. Yes, squealed like a little school girl. I didn't relent, though. She had told me to keep going, so 'hi-ho, hi-ho, it was off to fuck I go'. I caught sight of an exhausted Willa turning her head sideways and mouthing something to Belle through her mass of hair. Belle tilted her head, then shook it in the negative. "No, you can't keep him," she explained to Willa but for my benefit. "Too many people know he's here. Wait until you get Zane alone before you take him." "Hey! That's our line," Leigh spoke up indignantly. "Kappa Sig property." "You had better put those lips back to work on Willa before I put this vibrator back to work on you," Belle threatened. Leigh huffed, then went back to lip-smacking Willa's tit. "Shit, shit, shit," then a squeal from Willa once more. Damn, that had been a fast one. After that, Willa went down to her elbows, smothering Leigh with her tit. Leigh responded by going hog-wild on the whole breast biting and chewing on the whole damn thing. "Jesus Christ!" Willa howled, followed quickly by the loudest squeal of them all. Her body contractions dissipated what remained of my self-control. I began ejaculating, grinding my hips hard into her ass and plunging to the farthest depths yet. Willa collapsed in a state of perpetual groaning. Belle was kind enough to pull Leigh free before I collapsed on Willa. I barely had the strength to prop myself up on my elbows so as not to crush Willa beneath me. "Willa," Belle mused, "you really are full of surprises." If only she knew, or maybe it was better that she didn't know. It took a physically devastated Willa several seconds to reply. "You aren't going to give me shit about this in front of the other girls, are you?" she asked. Willa was a probationary Warlord so her reputation was incredibly vulnerable. "Yeah; let me see," Belle ticked off events; while massaging Leigh's half-raised leg from knee to inner thigh, "From the sounds of it he nailed Fontana Palmer thrice; before coming up here, kicking my ass, then fucking me so good all the lights came on. Then he rolled you over and plowed your ass through three orgasms, no." "They'll strap Zane down to the pool table for one hell of a weekend," Belle pointed out. "All the guys will resent him for that, so they'll bust him up and put him in the hospital where he can't perform for a month. Then the female riot ensues. I don't need that kind of hassle." "Thanks for looking out for me," I mocked. "Eh, you are almost a friend," Belle smiled. "Okay, on that note I'm going to take Leigh and leave," I began getting out of bed. Leigh had enough common sense to look to Belle for permission before climbing over Belle's legs and hopping free. "Try to keep the noise down," Belle teased as I opened the door. "I think Leigh's cunt has been abused enough for one night," I shook my head. "We are going downstairs to cuddle." "Nah-uh," Leigh said as she grabbed my hand. "Penetration, orgasm, cuddle; that's the way it's going to go." "No, wait," Leigh corrected herself. "Penetration, orgasm, orgasm, cuddle is how it's going to go." I'm sure Willa and Belle heard my groan of despair as I shut their door. "Leigh, your cunt looks much abused," I told her. "How about we not have sex tonight?" "After all I went through, please," she begged. "How about we have a sex-date later this week," I suggested. "I want to spend some time with you," Leigh pouted. "Leigh, I have Fall Break this week," I informed her. "We can have as much time as you like." "You do?" Leigh visibly perked up. "Oh, thank God," she then moaned. "I can barely walk, I'm so sore." "Do you still want to cuddle?" I asked. "I'd love to, Zane," she sighed, as she put her arm around my waist. "I want you to know that if it wasn't for Tawny, we really would keep you as our sex slave," she added lovingly. Yay me. "That's it," I snarled. "I'm going to go over there one night, tie all of you up, and butt-fuck the lot of you." "Oh, that sounds like fun," Leigh giggled. "Would we be tied up side by side so we could watch you do it to the sister next to us?" "Are you taking freak lessons from Rio?" I wondered. "Because you are starting to scare me." "Nope. Frankly, with the way she wields that strap-on, she kind of scares us," Leigh confessed. Ah, an unlooked for benefit of my Direct-to-Video lifestyle; I have provided the World with a warning label for Rio. Speaking of Rio, when we arrived at the sofa we discovered that she'd crawled up on it and was fast asleep again. I draped my blanket over her then curled up with Leigh in the quilt I had originally taken out for Rio. I lay down on my back and Leigh curled up on top of me. She started to say something to me but was overtaken by a yawn. She put her ear to my chest, yawned again then started snoring. I must have nodded off right after that because the next thing I knew Jill was shaking us awake gently. "Leigh," she inquired, "are you staying for breakfast?" "Sure, Aunt Jill," she yawned. "Let me get cleaned up and I'll help out in the kitchen." "Thank you, dear," Jill grinned. Leigh scampered off to the bathroom while Jill went to the kitchen. Rio was blissfully asleep still. I followed Jill into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while she soaked a paper towel under the faucet. "Did you sleep well last night?" I questioned. "Oh, Zane," Jill smiled serenely, "I learned to sleep through your antics several weeks ago." She dabbed my cheek, the one Belle had popped last night. It stung but I manned-up and took my mothering like a big boy. I made sure the ladies upstairs were awake before doubling back on my room to get dressed for Church. Fontana and Valarie propped themselves up and took in the show. As I was making sure my tie looked good in the mirror, I caught Fontana smacking her daughter in the forehead. "Sleep with that young man, damn it," she advised forcefully. "Subtle, Mom," Valarie groused back. "I mean, he's standing right there." "What do you think, Zane?" Fontana chuckled. "Do you mind me giving my daughter some helpful advice?" "I'm not going to step into that conversation, Fontana," I evaded, "and Val, that was a mean thing you did to Leigh. Belle was unforgiving." "She should learn to use a door like a normal person," Valarie smirked. "I am just warning you that Belle is particular about her private space," I cautioned her. "Valarie, you should clear the air with Belle," Fontana advised her daughter. "This is her home too and her territory." "I'll take care of it," Valarie yawned then shrugged. I had the feeling she wasn't taking this seriously. "Let's get some food, Mom. I still need to get dressed for Church too." Oh, Valarie didn't know the half of it, but I managed to keep Rio and her from ragging on Belle when they learned that Belle had lost a 'bet' with me and had to wear a dress to church along with the rest of them. Rio turned out to be hangover proof. Jill cooked up a wonderful breakfast and Leigh received her measure of revenge when she, Belle, and I had to go over to the Kappa Sigma house to find a dress that fit. Oh, those sorority girls were walking a thin line between cordiality and an ass-whooping because Belle wasn't in the mood to take shit from anyone. Tawny was a big help and Jersey provided the acceptable black dress for Belle to wear. Ricky provided the stockings and shoes. "The first one to say a damn thing dies," Belle glared at the assembly back at my house when she walked in the door. Jill must have missed that. When she came downstairs and saw Belle, she walked up and hugged her. "You look beautiful, Belle," Jill said while examining her. "Ah, thanks, Jill," Belle looked around evasively. Had anyone else said or done that, we would have died. Jill received a weak smile instead. Belle ended up in Sunday school class with Jill, who introduced her as Belle Kennan -- and no one made the connection despite Belle's constant scowl. Rio bringing Belle around to the Masters clan did something to ameliorate the situation. Suddenly having the young unattached males of the church pay attention to her was something Belle found downright darkly amusing. Rio was running around, introducing Belle as her Aunt from Michigan -- very single and clearly well-connected. Rochelle Wellington was the only one to figure out the ruse and she said nothing. Once we got home, Belle couldn't wait to be shed of those clothes. I took them back to the Kappa Sigmas with my gratitude for helping out yet again. When I came back I found Belle standing alone on the back porch. "Penny for your thoughts," I said. "I really ought to punch your lights out for putting me through that," she opened up. "I fucked three of those guys in high school and they didn't even recognize me now. I was in a pretty dress, a touch of make-up, and hung around with rich friends and; BANG; suddenly I wasn't the poor, dirty tramp in their eyes anymore." "Who gives a crap what they think or remember?" I countered. "You are still the same unique you no matter how you dress." Calling Belle beautiful was pointless, true but pointless, because she would have read that as me trying to get back into her pants. "You've never wanted for anything in your life," she mused. "What the fuck?" I rounded on her. "Bitch, for two years I only got to take showers when it rained; forget having any deodorant, and for amusement we played tag with pythons because we only had electricity when someone was pedaling the bicycle." She rounded on me with an angry rebuttal but immediately burst out laughing. "Yeah," she snickered, "and I finally got it out of Jill what a bad little monkey you were too. She told me you had 30 girlfriends and would screw around behind Tim's back all the time. You were a slut too." "Where? Belle, look around you," I grinned. "I am still a slut and proud of it." "Fuck you," she smiled. "Here I was getting worked up into a true fury and you come along and cheer me up." "That's what friends are for," I quipped. "I should have shoved Rio's head down that toilet," Belle teased. "You really complicate my life. Let's go in and grab a bite before we get all mushy." That First Time Fontana wasn't leaving until the morning so Valarie decided to spend another night at my place. I didn't want another night on the sofa so I opted for Rio and me to crash out in my dorm for the night. Vivian would be gone for the week; I hoped she would be spending quality time with her boyfriend Thomas. Barbie Lynn would be around once she saw her family off, but Opal, Brandi, and Paige, plus Christina and company, were gone for the week. They were all due back Saturday afternoon. The dark lining to this silver cloud was that both Paige and Heaven were; 'needy', and that didn't bode well for my Saturday night upon their return. That left us with twelve other girls on my floor tonight, one of which was Iona. She had decided that her time was better spent keeping Rio and me in line than being bored out of her skull back in her hometown. I was sure the fact that we would have a good deal of unobstructed time together had nothing to do with it. Iona was cuddled up with me on my right side on the large sofa closest to my bedroom screens. On my left, Rio was slouched down, channel surfing. She never stayed on any program long enough to see if it was any good. She was bored and angry. I was peripherally aware of someone activating the door and coming up but I wasn't paying too much attention until I noticed someone standing there and looking around for somebody. It was Mercy. I could hardly believe it. Our eyes met and she shrugged in confusion. She couldn't see Rio because my buddy's head was below the top of the back of the sofa. I surreptitiously moved my left arm over the top and then pointed down to where she was. Mercy's eyes lit up and she skipped on over, her bouncing proving to me she was braless. Rio was in such a foul mood, she didn't notice, so Mercy began leaning over until her shadow interfered with the suspended lighting. Finally, Rio rotated her face up to see what the problem was and looked right into Mercy's eyes. "Hey, you," Rio sounded remarkably nonchalant. "Hello, Rio," Mercy grinned hopefully. "I convinced my parents that I had to stay." "That's nice," Rio shrugged. Considering all the hell Rio had put me through during Homecoming and this weekend about Mercy being gone, I wanted to start punching her. "I wore my collar all weekend," she indicated the collar Rio (me, really) got her that had the school colors but Rio's initials on it. "I expressly forbid you from doing anything that might tip your parents off," Rio shook her head. "Simple fucking instructions and you manage to screw that up," she sighed. "I'm going to have to spank that kitty, aren't I?" Mercy's smile grew absolutely wanton. "I bet you are not wearing underwear, you tramp," Rio looked put out. "I seem to have lost them on the way over here," Mercy beamed. "Really? 'I lost them' is the best you can come up with? Give me some nipple-age, damn it," Rio insisted. Mercy bent over farther while Rio unbuttoned Mercy's shirt. "Remember, I'm only biting and sucking on these bad babies because you've been naughty, not because I enjoy it," Rio informed Mercy as she wiggled up to meet those naked breasts half way. "Okay," Mercy sighed happily as the first dangling breast went into Rio's mouth and her lips sucked the nipple in so her tongue could abuse it. Rio alternated between Mercy's tits, slurping and nibbling but not really biting down, as promised. She also reached up and grabbed her lover's shoulders, pulling her farther and farther. I was sure Mercy's feet had come off the ground. I would have looked but Iona took that moment to begin massaging my thigh. I looked to her; she was looking over at Rio and Mercy when Mercy started tumbling head first onto the sofa. Rio rolled Mercy onto her back, her skirt bunching up around her waist to reveal her baby-smooth cunt. "You are my bitch, Bitch," Rio growled as she pressed down on Mercy and tried to kiss her. "No, no," Mercy giggled as she kicked her heels, shook her head from side to side in an effort to avoid the kiss. "Please, let me go. I don't want to be kissed, or licked, or spanked, or have my body abused all week long. No, that would be horrible. Please, please, please, release me. I'll be good. I won't tell a soul about the terrible things you have planned for me." Rio hovered there, clearly in shock. "Why you rebellious little slut," Rio gasped. "Oh, I'm going to ream your ass for that little outburst." "Eeep!" Mercy squeaked. "Move that butt to the boudoir, you skanky whore," Rio pulled Mercy off the sofa, then spanked her bottom. Mercy looked over her shoulder fearfully and hurried that way with Rio in hot pursuit. Iona stood up, pulled on my arm and led my gaze to their retreating forms. "You want to join them?" I questioned. "I want to watch," Iona clarified. "They are so much in love; it is a beautiful thing to witness." "That it is," I agreed as I stood up as well. I led her toward my bedroom, Iona squeezing my hand tightly. "Also, getting naked under the covers with you has its own appeal," Iona gave me a cute, hopeful look. "What makes you think I'll get naked?" I teased. "Well, Zane, you are my friend, and you're easy," she teased right back. Ouch! "I prefer easily accessible, thank you very much," I stated indignantly. "Have you been taking etiquette lessons from Rio?" "Zane," Iona pouted. "That was unfair. I'd never abuse you the way Rio does, or Barbie Lynn, or Paige, or Heaven." As we rounded the last turn in the Chinese screen maze that separated my sleeping quarters from the rest of the floor, Rio was pushing Mercy face-first onto her (Rio's) side of the bed. Rio squatted behind Mercy. Mercy's torso was on the bed but her legs were still splayed over the edge. Rio probed forward, took a lick of that cunt, then another, before spanking Mercy's right cheek. "Has anybody else been using what is mine?" Rio inquired threateningly. Mercy shook her head violently in the negative. "Are you sure?" Rio persisted. "You are pretty clueless. Someone might have sexed you up while telling you they were doing your taxes, or something stupid like that. Did you let someone do your taxes?" Again Mercy shook her head 'no'. "Well ,  I don't trust you," Rio mused. "Zane, come over here." By this time, I was naked, I take off my clothes really fast because I hang around with some impatient women, and Iona was down to her socks and panties. "Sure," I responded. I walked around the bed until I was looking over Rio's shoulder. "Does this cunt and asshole look used to you?" Rio asked me. I reached out and with my forefinger, rubbed along Mercy's slit, starting with her clit. It was still a small nub but a few circles by my finger brought her out to play. Mercy moaned, wiggling her hips as she did. I scooped up from there, dipping between her labia until her fluids coated my fingers. I brought the finger up for a taste. "Yum," I grinned at Rio, who double-pumped her eyebrows and smiled like the madwoman she was. I stuck my finger back in Mercy's cunt to get it nice and wet again, causing Mercy to moan repeatedly. This time, I placed my finger against her anus. I rubbed it around but didn't try to press it in. The moment Mercy decided I wasn't going to give it to her, she thrust back, trying to drive my probing digit inside of her anyway. Rio smacked Mercy's ass to make her stop. "No, you don't, Wench," Rio threatened. "Rio, your baby-girl is pristine, she's nice and tight," I informed my buddy. "Thanks, Zane," Rio snickered. "I can never tell with this slut, she's always so horny. Or maybe I'm always so horny for her, I get those confused." "How about option three: you both are hot, horny babes addicted to each other's bodies?" I offered. "I really don't care what Mercy feels," Rio lied. "She's only serves as a vessel for my lusts. Don't you exist to be solely a receptacle for my lusts, Slut-Bunny?" Mercy slid down the bed until her knees touched the ground. She turned around to the less than amused Rio, waddled up to her lover and wrapped her arms around Rio's waist, hugging her tight. "Yes, yes, yes," Mercy murmured contentedly. "What the, listen, you sk- --" Rio started out angrily. She never finished calling Mercy a 'skank'. She hesitantly, then gently, ran her fingers through Mercy's hair. "I missed you so much, I was going nuts without you; just ask Zane," Rio gave her heartfelt confession. "Rio," Mercy looked up as Rio petted her head, "I've given this a lot of thought and I want you to be my first, tonight, right now," Mercy pleaded. Rio's eyes shot a panicked look in my direction. 'You can handle this,' I mouthed my assurance to my Best Buddy. Rio returned her gaze to Mercy and tilted her lover's head up until their eyes met. "You know there is no coming back from this," Rio stated. Mercy nodded. "This will make you mine forever," Rio said next. Mercy nodded with greater vigor. "You know I am a complete fucking train-wreck and am more likely to ruin your whole damn life than make you happy." "I am yours and you are mine," Mercy whispered, mimicking the tattoo Rio had placed on Mercy's back. "I can't do this," Rio stroked Mercy's cheek. Mercy looked devastated. "We are both wearing clothes, how can we properly make love if we are both still wearing clothes?" Mercy gawked, then shoved her face into Rio's stomach and bit down, hard, it appeared. "Ow, Bitch!" Rio screamed. "That hurt." "Rio, you nearly scared me to death." Mercy sounded so pitiful as she looked back up at Rio. I really had no idea how Rio's twisted, crazy mind would take that. For a second, I thought she'd explode, Rio didn't take pain like a rational person. "I apologize, Love. I have no excuse," Rio responded softly. She even used the 'L' word. "Really?" Mercy whispered. Rio nodded. "Will you do me one favor?" "Okay," Rio replied cautiously. "Please never apologize to me again, my Love," Mercy pleaded. "It scares me nearly as much as you being mean to me a moment ago." Rio studied Mercy for a few seconds. "Did you use the 'L' word?" Rio glared at Mercy. Mercy's eyes grew wide; she then buried her face back into Rio's stomach and began kissing away. "No, you don't, Wench. I will not be mollified by your sloppy, wet kisses. Strip your ass down and get into bed. Mom is going to go primeval on every inch of your smoking hot Temple of Babylon." Mercy smiled, spun around, and quick-stepped as fast as she could back to the bed while still on her knees. Rio flashed me a look that spoke of a happiness I had never seen in her before. She was slipping out of her skirt as she hopped her way to her dresser, undoubtedly to get some toys. As for me, I crawled past Mercy and slipped under the covers held open by Iona. "Should we leave?" Iona whispered to me. "Mercy is somewhat of an exhibitionist and I doubt Rio cares," I answered quietly. "In that case, let me get close to Mercy in case she needs some comforting," Iona told me under her breath. Before I could reason that out, she snuck her naked, tight little body over mine and slid under the covers to be close to Mercy. Iona reached out a hand tentatively toward Mercy. Mercy regarded it, gave Iona a warm smile, and placed her fingers in Iona's palm. Rio affixed her modest-sized strap-on and lubed it up before walking over to Mercy. Her lover seemed entranced with the way the false phallus bobbed about as it approached her. Rio threw back the blanket roughly so she could gaze down at Mercy's beautiful naked form. Instinctively, Mercy began to move her knees up to her chest. "What's that?" Rio pointed to Mercy's hand being held by Iona. Mercy started to withdraw it when, "Did I tell you to move it?" Mercy stopped. "Put that hand back and put those legs down, you insipid cow." Down came Mercy's legs with a muffled thud. "Now I'm going to fuck you like I own you," Rio growled. "You do own me," Mercy chirped. "I'm yours." "Are you ready for me to pound that cunt?" Rio glared. "Yes," Mercy moaned softly. "Well, tough," Rio smirked. "You don't tell me what to do. I'm going to do this at my own pace, damn it." She sidled down to the foot of the bed while still facing Mercy. With delicate ease, Rio lowered her lips to Mercy's right big toe, kissed it then began sucking on it. Mercy had raised her chin to her chest so she could meet Rio's steady gaze. As Rio began playing with her toes, Mercy shivered and groaned. When Rio switched to the left foot, Mercy whimpered. "Please, Rio," she moaned. "Hush, you," Rio mumbled around the current toe she was sucking on. "You are my plaything and I'll do what I want with you." Mercy's head fell back on the pillow as she clutched Iona's hand tightly. Iona seemed totally taken with events. She had rolled on her side so I cuddled behind her, my cock pressing against the small of her back, and began kissing her shoulder. Iona pushed back into me and wiggled her ass against my thighs. She also reached back, took my free hand in her own then placed them together on her stomach. She matched me as I traced small circles over her torso. "I hope I find someone who makes me that happy," Iona murmured. "You'll find someone worthy of you, Iona," I replied quietly. She tilted her head to give me better access to her neck. "I believe I will, Zane," Iona purred. "Now I know what to look for." Rio was taking her sweet time with Mercy, torturing the poor girl with lust. Iona actually scooted over and gave Mercy a quick peck on the cheek to comfort her. She was back in my arms before Mercy could decide to take shelter in Iona's innocent sexuality. This was Rio and Mercy's moment and we knew she shouldn't forget that. When Rio got to the knees, she pressed Mercy's legs farther apart and rotated the hips so she could access the back of Mercy's knees. She was running the tip of her tongue along the inner joint, driving Mercy nuts. The girl was humping her crotch up in the air and began pinching her right nipple. "None of that, you cougar-wannabe," Rio snapped. "You can't toy with my playground. It's mine." Mercy's face scrunched up in frustration as a single tear escaped her left eye. Mercy's free right arm began to flail about as Rio reluctantly stopped teasing the knees and began nibbling her way up Mercy's thigh. Iona felt the sympathetic energy and began massaging her left breast. "Please don't," she gulped as I moved my hand to her right breast. "I'll lose it and this should be their time, not mine." "Yes, Mistress Iona," I teased quietly. "Whatever you desire." Iona pummeled me with her ass against my thighs. "Behave," she sighed. Rio kept pushing Mercy's legs to the side until she was face (and lips) to Mercy's smooth cunt, letting the breath from her nostrils tickle the surface. "Something's been drooling, all," was all Rio got out before Mercy exploded into orgasm. "MotherfuckingChristGoddamn!" Mercy howled. Her whole body shook like an epileptic seizure had taken over. "Cunt-muncher," Rio sputtered. "Did you just squirt in my face?" Mercy was in no shape for an immediate reply. I didn't help matters when I snickered at Rio as her face rose above Mercy's thighs. Syrupy vaginal fluid was dripping off her nose and chin. Rio glared at me. I had a sinking feeling she was about to exile me from my room. "I'm, I'm sorry," Mercy groaned. "I was thinking weak, pathetic, or nasty," Rio grumbled. She began stalking up Mercy's body on all fours until she was face-to-face with her toy. "Was that the extent of your apology?" Mercy propped herself up feebly and began to lick Rio's face clean. "If I'm not satisfied, no fucking for you tonight," Rio taunted her. That spurred Mercy on. She was sucking Rio's eyelids and eyebrows, licking her cheeks, jaw and neck as if her life depended on it. Mercy ended up trying to French kiss Rio but she was having none of that. "Do you think I've got some of your cunt juice hiding under my tongue?" Rio quizzed her. Mercy gave a short, energetic nod. Rio cracked a smile and her lips and Mercy dove up to literally tongue-fuck Rio's mouth until she was thoroughly satisfied she'd gotten every drop. "No, you don't," Rio chastised her. "I know what you are doing and it is not going to work. I'm going to spank that sopping wet kitty and there's nothing you can do to distract me." "Have mercy," Mercy pleaded convincingly. "Oh, I am going to have Mercy again and again and again," Rio mocked her lover. Rio retreated down Mercy until her false cock slipped past her pubic mound. Rio used her right hand to guide the dildo up and down between her labia. The response was tiny simpering noises from Mercy. When Rio let the tip enter her cunt, Mercy became very still. "Relax, Babe," Rio urged her gently. "It will make it less uncomfortable." Rio avoided using the word pain. "Deep breaths, Babe," Rio soothed her. "Think about how much pleasure you feel when I shove this cock up your ass. It will be the same way with your cunt, but better." I could tell Mercy was really trying and that was the problem; she was trying too hard. Rio had an answer for that though. "I've got a better idea," Rio grinned wickedly. She pulled out of Mercy and waggled her phallus at her mate. "I'm not going to do all the damn work, you perverted minx. Hike up those legs and spread them wide, none of this folding at the knees crap. I'm going to mount you like John Smith ambushed Pocahontas, leaving you stupefied and wondering who the fuck just hammered you through the New World." "I'm going to fuck you harder than the Pilgrims screwed over the Wampanoag, you are going to ride my cock 'til dawn." I image the rest of us clearly showed our amazement that Rio knew so much, well, of anything, much less American History. "What the fuck?" Rio took in our gawking. "I read, things, occasionally. Don't look so shocked." "Iona," Rio added, as she went back to looking down on her woman, "get my camera phone. I want to record this moment for posterity." "Zane?" Iona whispered to me. She didn't want to put either Rio or Mercy at risk of exposure. "Its fine," I petted her shoulder. "You can make sure the file is secure." "I'm okay with it," Mercy assured Iona. "I trust Rio." "Be quiet, Pumpkin," Rio sneered. "This is going up on YouTube fifteen minutes after we are done. I'm going to title it: Lush Virgin Innocent plundered by Psycho Mistress." I groaned as Iona slipped off the bed to get the phone. "What; not descriptive enough?" "Plunder me! Plunder me!" Mercy meeped. Rio slapped both of Mercy's nipples. "Hush, you," Rio glared at Mercy. "The only thing I want coming out of that mouth had better be your tongue in my cunt." Iona walked up and handed the phone to Rio. "You keep it, Iona," Rio told her. "You'll get a girl's point of view. With Zane, it will be nothing but tits and ass." We both knew that wouldn't be the case, most likely wouldn't be the case. Iona returned to my side but was sitting up on her knees. She looked at the image in the phone and edged forward. I moved in behind her so that my stomach was against her buttocks. I remained reclining. Iona reached out and took Mercy's hand once more. "I'm ready," Iona said softly. Mercy paled, biting her lip over her dual anxieties. Rio had let slip a serious yet compassionate facial expression which reaffirmed that her Mistress was about to take her. The other was the originally unlooked for trait of Mercy the Exhibitionist. Oh, it terrified her that her sexuality would be discovered, but that thrill only made her actions that much more vibrant and alive. Rio positioned her fake phallus at the gateway to Mercy's virginity again. She leaned over Mercy, her arms resting on her fists to either side of Mercy's breasts, but her lady was taller and Rio couldn't quite span the gap between their faces. "Get up here and kiss me, Mercy," Rio said, choked with emotion. "Kiss me one more time as my fuck toy. Next time we kiss, you'll be my girlfriend." Mercy used her right elbow to prop herself up until her lips met with Rio's. "Are you going to own me, use me, and protect me forever and ever?" Mercy pleaded. "Baby-cakes, I own you for all time, I am never going to become tired of using you, and if anyone except me lays a finger on you, I'll wipe out their whole fucking family," Rio recited her twisted version of a marital vow with the tenderness of a child addressing a kitten. "Thank you for choosing me," Mercy fought back tears. The kiss she gave Rio was long, passionate, and steeped in familiarity. Mercy was still enraptured with the declaration and kiss when Rio pushed forward. Mercy's hymen tore, completing her evolution from the blindly obedient school girl that had come to my room as one of the Chancellor's enforcers so few weeks ago into the woman who dared to experiment with her deepest erotic desires. Mercy's eyes welled up with tears due to the pain. She trembled and her lips quivered. Rio didn't relent despite her lover's pain. She drove the dildo in relentlessly to the hilt. She ground the strap-on's base against Mercy's clit, withdrew a half inch, then slammed down hard. At the same time, she moved her left hand around to the back of Mercy's head, grabbed a handful of hair and forced Mercy into another kiss. "What are you, my little Orgasmic Bombshell?" Rio demanded. "I'm your girlfriend," Mercy sobbed through the renewing pain. "You don't sound very convinced," Rio insisted. "Am I going to have to put a ring on that clit?" she bumped Mercy's clit again, causing Mercy to gulp and whimper. "Not enough to teach your confused, simple mind who the boss is? Nipple rings it is, then," Rio taunted with all apparent seriousness. "You still don't get it?" Mercy shook her head, tears starting to seep down her cheeks as Rio kept fucking her. "Nose ring?" That suggestion seemed to scare the girl, probably because hiding such a piercing would be difficult. "Oh, sigh," Rio exaggerated. "I guess nothing but putting a ring on that finger will beat the point home." Mercy's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. "Of course, that makes me your husband and Master, none of this wife-shit for me. You'll have to do double duty as wife and sexual gratification machine, available for sex on demand." "Okay," Mercy wept joyously. "I am so annoyed with you right now, Annoyer." Annoy equals love; that pretty much symbolized those two. "Mercy, if you fail me this time, I'm going to clone fifty of me and fuck you until you explode," Rio threated. Damn, Rio was so often unhinged from reality and common sense. I figured the only reason Mercy didn't rebel right then and there was that she knew Rio couldn't really clone herself. Otherwise, death by multiple orgasm was exactly how Mercy would chose to exit her mortal coil, and Rio knew it. She also knew she was hammering Mercy into another orgasm quickly. "Christ-fuck-shit-hell!" Mercy screamed. Her legs vibrated then fell to either side of Rio. She wept, screamed, and convulsed on the bed but her Mistress held her firm by the hips and head. When Mercy finally collapsed, boneless from the exertion, Rio gently withdrew her cock from Mercy's cunt and settled on Mercy's right side, studying her intently. Mercy's chest rose in ragged pulses for over a minute. Her first act was to release Iona's hand and carefully place it on her labia, dabbed it gently, then drew the results up to her face. Vaginal fluid mixed with a trace of blood was what she saw. Mercy's smile returned then. She rolled facing Rio and curled submissively into Rio's body, her head resting between Rio's breasts. The four of us were quiet for some time. It was Mercy who broke the silence. "I'm okay," she murmured into Rio's chest. It took Rio nearly half a minute to respond. "You talk too much," Rio whispered to Mercy as she stroked her hair. "I think you can find something better to do with that mouth, so get to it." Mercy began suckling. "Good girl." By FinalStand for Literotica.

Il y a deux ans, après le premier épisode de Podcast tourné avec Charles Le Menestrel, repreneur de la marque Ollech and Wajs, sa passion et la sincérité de ses propos m'avaient tellement touché qu'à l'issue de cette rencontre, je lui avais commandé une montre... Après hésitations, mon choix s'était porté sur la fameuse OW Ocean Graph, une plongeuse à part, digne héritière d'une montre légendaire, l'iconique Caribbean 1000 Ocean Graph. Or, maintenant, c'est l'heure du bilan ! Bilan de deux années pendant lesquelles j'ai beaucoup porté cette montre. Qu'est-ce qui à l'époque m'avait poussé à prendre ce modèle en particulier ? Et surtout, qu'est-ce que j'en pense deux ans après, une fois que la lune de miel est passée....quelles sont ses qualités mais aussi ses points à améliorer ? En bref, est-ce que la rachèterais encore aujourd'hui... D'autant qu'OW vient de sortir l'Ocean Graph Mark 2, une version modifiée et bonifiée de cette montre déjà plutôt bien née. Donc, une occasion rêvée de les comparer et de dire en toute connaissance de causes si la nouvelle fait mieux que l'ancienne. Qu'est-ce qui a réellement changé ? Qu'apporte-elle de plus ? Et surtout, est-ce une simple évolution ou une refonte complète ? Je sais que vous êtes nombreux à vous pencher sur les OW, donc ça devrait vous intéresser... Mais dans cet épisode, en plus de tester cette nouvelle Ocean Graph, je vous propose de revenir sur les origines de ce modèle et de vérifier si l'adn est bien respecté. Bonjour à tous et bienvenue sur DM&V, j'espère que vous allez pour le mieux. sachez tout d'abord que cet épisode est, comme d'habitude, disponible en version audio sur toutes les plateformes de podcast mais également en vidéo sur ma chaine Youtube Des Montres & Vous. Si vous aimez la chaine et son contenu, N'hésitez pas à liker, à vous abonner et à activer les notifications pour ne rien louper et pour aider DM&V à progresser. Bonne écoute ! Liens utiles : Pour rejoindre Le Cercle, mon canal WhatsApp : https://whatsapp.com/channel/F96PntzE... Episode #39 Le fascinant retour d'Ollech & Wajs raconté par son repreneur https://smartlink.ausha.co/des-montres-et-vous/39-le-fascinant-retour-d-ollech-wajs-raconte-par-son-repreneur Episode #123 Du vrai Swiss Made à -2000€ : Mythe ou réalité ? https://youtu.be/kg63A3CSGoI?si=Go_KurcBv-X_v6RV Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 26 A New Student (tribal) Council   In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             If you can't look in a mirror and laugh at yourself, cut off the light             "Can we put other restrictions on you?" Simone Brady prodded.   "This is not the 'Zane' show," Virginia Goodswell interjected. "We need to decide when the new Student government will meet, I suggest Tuesday nights, and how we are going to conduct business."   "We can start by deciding where we meet," Chastity spoke up. "I vote for Zane's place."   "What's wrong with the Assembly Hall, where we've always met?" Rhaine countered.   "Rhaine, you are drinking a Doctor Pepper, KayLeigh, you are drinking a grape juice, and Joy was eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup when I got here," Hope snickered. "You have hot plates and microwaves too, if needed."   Rhaine, Joy, and KayLeigh, all Traditionalists, looked guilty. They also looked like they treasured their creature comforts because they weren't running for the door.   "It is a nice place," KayLeigh admitted.   "And you don't get to come back up here otherwise," Rio grinned evilly. "This floor is devoted to the freshman class."   "There are a lot of upperclassmen up here right now," Rhaine pointed out.   "Those are what you would call 'friends'," Rio sneered. "If you weren't freaking evil, you might have some."   "Please don't put it that way," I requested of Rio. Rio had every reason to be cranky. Mercy looked even more exhausted sitting at her side.   "Zane will arrange the room to fit your needs," Christina finally spoke, "I guarantee it."   "You think you can control him?" Rhaine shot back.   "I'm not afraid of him; he's not some wild beast. I ask him to do things for me and he does," Christina chided Rhaine. "He is like any other freshman; it is that simple."   "He's rather mouthy for a freshman," Hannah joked.   "Well, maybe if you put my mouth to other uses," I bantered back. There was a moment of silence followed by Dana Gorman taking up her bottled water and walking over to me. She smiled down at my seated form while she poured out the remaining water onto my crown.   "Cool off, Casanova," Dana cautioned me playfully before returning to her seat.   "Exactly why do you keep her around again?" Rio slapped my shoulder.   "Can you imagine how insufferable Christina would be if Coach didn't keep her in line?" I smiled. Christina rolled her eyes while Rio chuckled. Virginia stood up and cleared her throat.   "I want to make sure that all the ladies, plus Zane, plan to make this experiment work. It is rather pointless to proceed if any of you can't be honest now," Virginia, my Spiritual Advisor, poled the audience. Most of the girls looked around to see who would do what but no one jumped.   "I think it is safe to say that we students will stay true to the Vice Chancellor's plan, though this is not an endorsement of Zane, his conduct, or even his continued presence here," Rhaine spoke for the group.   "With that settled, we can call it a night," Doctor Kennedy declared. "Ladies, consider what issues we need to deal with so we can bring them up next Tuesday night, 9 pm."   "Who do we send the itinerary to?" Simone inquired.   "Zane," Hudson Lane volunteered me.   "I nominate Faith De Young (of Christina's inner circle) to be our Secretary of Record, if she wants the job," I said. Faith looked completely taken off-guard but nodded quickly.   "I'll do it," she made clear. The meeting broke up soon after with most of the student leadership departing. Dana, Hudson, and Christina & company hung around a little longer.   "Not the Glamorous Gremlin?" Rio teased me on my choice of Secretary. She gasped and nearly fell over right after that. Iona smiled softly and shook her head. She realized that she was still a freshman and her day would come.   "Ah, here's one of the controllers," Heaven gave a devilish smile as she handed the device over to Rio. Miraculously, the other three sexual wonders were also handed over, ending the threat of torture for the day.   "I see a spanking machine in you bitches' future," Rio snarled at Chastity, Hope, Heaven, Faith, and Christina.   "I swear, I tried to get one of those damn things all day long," Valarie griped. "You would think that after setting this up, someone would have given me one, but no, I am a freshman so I don't get to play the game."   "It was you!" Rio screamed, and lunged at Valarie, who comically batted her away as Vivian and Mercy intervened.   "Yes," Val laughed, "but it was Iona who figured out how to have captured your days by enlisting the aid of classmates with video phones. I can tell today's footage is going to be a classic."   "Why did you do it?" Vivian asked Valarie.   "I had revenge on Rio and made Mercy ecstatically happy; it was a win-win," Val grinned vindictively. It was a credit to Rio's berserk nature that no one asked what Rio had done to warrant revenge; everyone automatically assumed that Valarie was justified.   "Everyone's sympathy is under-whelming," Rio grumbled. "Come on, Mercy, let's get these things off."   "Do we have to?" Mercy pleaded softly. Hell, I imagine she could barely stand but apparently, her limit to sexual overstimulation was unconsciousness. Rio used one finger to hook Mercy's collar and pulled her close.   "How dare you talk back," Rio whispered, but I was close enough to hear. "I was going to settle for the vibrating nipple clamps that arrived today but now I'm thinking a few dozen paddle blows, to each cheek, are in your future, you annoying little bitch."   Annoying was Mercy and Rio's code word for 'love'; Rio simply couldn't stand the 'L' word.   "Vibrating nipple clamps?" Christina was both confused and amused. "Where do you people come up with this stuff?"   "Adam and Eve," Rio shot back without batting an eye. "Wait until I have Mercy's nipples and lips pierced; then the real fun begins."   "I don't think Mercy should have her lips pierced," Vivian suggested forcefully. "They'd be glaringly obvious." Rio groaned and sighed.   "Not those lips," Rio clarified. "The other ones, you know, labia, cunt lips, cunt etc." There was a pregnant pause in the room. "Attach vibrator wires to those bad boys and Wow! Let the magic begin."   Mercy and Rio really were made for each other; they were both salivating at the prospect. Thankfully, I saw Cassandra hovering around and looking ready for me to start playing towel boy.   "Ladies, one last duty to perform and then my day is done," I attempted my exit.   "Zane, is it alright if I spend the night?" Hope ambushed me.   "Of course," I smiled, because I'm a fucking idiot who is an embarrassment to the very concept of the mentally challenged and a parody of every teen boy date flick. I was already spending time with Iona, Paige, Barbie Lynn, and now Hope.   Maybe I can find a way to have a secret government space array shoot an earthquake laser at my feet so a pit opens up underneath me and I plummet to a fiery death at the Earth's core. Maybe I watch too much bad TV.   "Iona, did my Viagra arrive yet," I teased my buddy. "I'm going to need a pill tonight."   "Oh, Zane, I don't think we have any but I'll go online and see what I can get for you," Iona replied in all seriousness.   "I know some guys who smuggle them in from Mexico," Valarie offered. "I'll make some calls."   "That is so cool!" Barbie Lynn clapped her hands. "Now he'll never go down. I can ride him all night long." She hugged me while a fearful vision of my desiccated, sperm-drained husk lying open-eyed and lifeless on my bed danced before my eyes.   "Zane?" Cassandra called out.   "Oh, yes, towel boy and bikini selection," I muttered. I gravitated her way, took her hand, and led her to my room.   "What's that about?" Vivian mused.   "Handmaiden's Duty," Iona informed the ladies. "He picks out a bikini for her and acts as pool boy while she's in the Jacuzzi."   "I hope someone cleans that thing from time to time," Faith shuddered.   "Every morning at ten o'clock it is drained and cleaned, and the filter cleaned every Monday," Iona droned on without even looking up. The rest of that exchange was lost as I retreated to my bedroom.   What followed could be blamed on Cassandra accidently dropping her drink in the Jacuzzi and me having to retrieve it; it was an unopened soda can. Or maybe it could be blamed on the surprisingly conservative (for my room) white and black striped bikini she wore. Whatever was the catalyst, inside five minutes I had Cassandra out of her suit, front to front, her crotch pressing me against the side of the Jacuzzi with my head barely above water while she rode my face in a pattern and energy that reminded me of Hawaii's North Shore.   Cassandra was pounding the back of my head against the wood wall as she drove her cunt over my lips and tongue again and again.   "Oh, Baby, you are so much better than my fingers," she communicated with an erotic growl. "Keep it up, keep it up!" She was the one in the control of the sexual rhythm so I was not sure what else I might do but keep licking and sucking as hard as I could.   I was finally able to run a hand along her chocolate flesh until I managed to push against her sternum and got her to roll her shoulders back. That allowed me to start massaging and stroking one of her breasts while my other hand got between her legs from behind and gently penetrated her cunt.   "Za, za, za, Zane!" she screamed out. Note to self: Add earplugs to my Must Have List.   Cassandra slathered my nose, lips, and chin with her rather scalding, light to the tongue and tasty fluids. If she wasn't still trying to give me a concussion with her hips I might have enjoyed it more. As her orgasm dissipated, she slid down my body with a sated sigh. Her legs were outside mine so as she descended, her cunt came to rest on my Speedo-encased cock. Saying that my cock was hard would be like saying snow is cold or the English love their soccer; pretty much a given.   Her eyes grew wide when she realized where she rested. She's a senior and a virgin in a Christian Girl's school, she began humping me, of course. Being Cassandra, she began humping me hard and thumping her way to another climax.   "Zane, I am totally rethinking you being allowed on campus," Cassandra panted.   "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" I wondered. At this time I had one finger lightly in her cunt as my other hand tenderly tweaked one of her nipples.   "Oh, I think every junior and senior should have their own personal freshman boy to keep under control with a strong hand," she grinned while she kept working my rod over with her cunt.   "Wouldn't it be nice if we developed a peaceful, platonic relationship based on mutual trust and respect?" I suggested hopefully. Cassandra gave a deep, throaty laugh.   "You're funny, but no," she grinned evilly. "After all, if that was the case, I couldn't do this: Zane, suck my other nipple, suck it hard, while I play with your fat phallus." Oh yeah, I love the way this is going (insert internalized weeping).   She worked out my cock painfully fast and began rubbing it deeply between her labia, to the point I felt the tightness of her vaginal walls on my cockhead.   "Zane, you know a whole lot about the sex stuff," she stated. "What's a cock ring?" Oh, HELL No! I have enough difficulty ejaculating as is. The last thing I need is something that allows another to make the prospects of my ejaculation even dimmer.   "It's a device, a ring, that is placed over the base of the cock to restrict blood flow, thus allowing longer erections," I grudgingly confessed. "Thinking about getting one, as a Christmas present, for someone out of state?"   "So, you could have intercourse, for a long time, and not ejaculate, so a girl would be, safe, in fucking you raw?" Cassandra's voice was becoming more strained.   "Technically, yes, but a little music, some hand-holding, and dinner at McDonald's would suffice in getting me aroused," I tried to explain. "There is no need for, something like that."   "Zane, clearly God put you, on this campus as a test for, true believers," Cassandra related, "And every woman here needs, to be tested, A Lot!" she screamed out her second orgasm of the night.   My hands raced down to grab each luscious buttock before her spasms caused her to slip down my cock and make her virginity a thing of the past. When my cock slapped against my stomach, I held Cassandra tight until she calmed down.   "You need to stay on campus during the weekends," Cassandra moaned with content exhaustion, "so we can use you more often."   "Why do you think I flee campus every weekend?" I thought. If she had her way, I'd be walking around with an IV in my arm and popping Viagra like M&M's. I chose life! If you think I am a coward, step up and take my place. I'll sneak back into the cemetery at night and put a flower on your headstone. You can take that permanent smile etched on your face to your grave, He-Man.   "I have to ask: What brought this on?" I inquired.   "I received one of Mercy's controls and we shared the next class," Cassandra confessed. "She glowed with such pleasure I thought she would pass out. I was suddenly curious."   "I had nothing to do with that," I groaned. "I swear, it wasn't me." Cassandra placed one hand on each side of my face.   "Zane, it wasn't you, I know that," she smiled, "but it is your presence that allowed something like that, her ability to experience that level of pleasure, that I want to experience. I have to go now. I need to report to the other girls what it was like so we can figure out what to do with you next."   You know, if I had been paranoid, I would have been right, people are plotting against me. Cassandra stood up and stepped onto the bench so that I was once more facing her puffy, somewhat abused cunt lips before she swung one leg over me and exited the tub. I closed my eyes and let my head hang over the side, facing up.   "Towel boy," Cassandra taunted me. I looked at her. Cassandra was dripping wet and she was extending a towel my way. I pulled my own tired ass out of the Jacuzzi and tenderly buffed her excellent body until she was dry. She gave me one last kiss, dressed, and virtually skipped out of my domain, happy, arrogant and plotting my demise.   I cleaned up, dealt with the Jacuzzi, and took in my surroundings. The only witnesses to my congress and conversation with Cassandra were Dana Gorman and Hudson Lane, my voyeuristic adult female 'friends'.   Dana pulled me over as I walked passed her. Hudson Lane had gone off to get some drinks.   "You and Gabrielle, ?"   "You have no respect for my survival instincts, do you?" I chuckled.   "Not really," Dana smirked.   "Fine," I groaned in feigned annoyance. "She wanted to talk so we talked, nothing else happened."   "She beat you up, didn't she?" Gorman persisted.   Another deep sigh on my part came out before I confessed, "Yes. Why do you ask?"   "I wanted to smack you around from the first day I met you," Dana laughed. "I think Ms. Black has done admirably not beating you black and blue before now."   "Has yet another girl beaten Zane up?" Hudson angled around to sit next to Dana. "The consistency of the femdom attitudes at this school is frightening."   "Don't throw stones, Ms. Lane," Dana warned her. "You, Zane, and Ms. Messier, the lawyer Ms. Buchanan hired to help Zane when he went to jail, I was head of security when it happened and I know when Ms. Messier arrived on campus, where she stayed, and when she, and you, left this dorm."   "You never said anything to Chancellor Bazz?" Hudson worried.   "No," Dana responded. "You three are adults, and ruining your career here wouldn't have made expelling Zane any easier. I wasn't the sex police."   "Thank you," Hudson smiled. "I now have another reason to be happy Zane championed your cause with the Board of Directors." She touched Dana on her thigh.   "It's not going to happen, Lane," Dana informed the lawyer while opening her V-8. "I've had a long time to figure out that I'm not attracted to women." Wow, Dana knew that Hudson was bi-sexual and didn't care. That was another big plus for Dana in my book.   "That's what Brigitte Messier thought as well," Hudson winked. "It turns out a little bit of Zane goes a long way to loosening up a girl's morals and expanding their horizons."   "I repeat, it is not going to happen," Dana shook her head. "Zane's a student and I'm a teacher. Perhaps the day he graduates, I'll kidnap him for a long, frustration-relieving weekend. I haven't had sex in eight years and watching him work really stresses my resolve."   "You could always join me in the hot tub," I offered. I wasn't sure how serious I was. I also wasn't sure how bad a concussion Cassandra had given me.   "Zane, do you have any idea of what I would do to you if I focused all my pent up sexual fury onto that body of yours?" Dana threatened. I gulped.   "Does it start with me tying you down?" I suggested sweetly. Hudson was looking really intrigued by this. I was beginning to believe she had this erotic attraction to 'turning' straight girls, most likely mirroring her own Law School experiences.   "What do you think?" she glared. Dana was becoming seriously aroused.   "I guess my only other question is if I can outrun you," I joked. Dana kept staring.   "Zane," Hudson snickered, "do you realize that your swimsuit is basically transparent when wet?"   "No, I didn't," I gulped once more. My package was less than a foot from Dana's lips. "Sorry, I'll be going to bed now," I backed up.   "That's a really nice ass," Dana sighed as I turned away.   "It is even nicer to touch," Hudson commented.   "It's not happening, Lane," Dana grumbled.   "Oh, you will come around," Hudson Lane laughed softly. "I have faith in Zane." Dana growled in rebuttal.   When I rounded the first cut-back leading to my bedroom, I heard and smelled sex, suddenly, sneaking off to Gabrielle Black's place and hiding out for the night sounded like a good idea, barring her killing me, of course. I sorted out the noises as I moved around until the room came into full view.   Reminder number one: Check the God Damn air filters!   Where the fuck do I begin?   On the far side of the bed, Mercy was on her knees, head down on a pillow with her painfully ecstatic face looking toward me. That was how I could tell she had been gagged. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, she was moaning and sweating up a storm, and her whole aura emanated with tantric excitement.   In case you might be wondering where her Mistress was: Rio was straddling Mercy's back, ass resting on Mercy's neck (by the tension in her thighs, Rio wasn't pressing down hard thankfully) and facing her playmate's highly vulnerable posterior.   "Hold out a little longer, my slut," Rio egged Mercy on quietly as she paddled those beautiful exposed ass cheeks, apparently in a random fashion.   And now it gets weird(er): Behind Mercy, facing Rio, wielding a strap-on with firm, slow, and steady strokes, was Paige. For the love of the Almighty, should I be quarantined as an immorality contagion? It wasn't like Paige was an angel but she was taking a few giant steps to proficiently wielding an artificial cock into a bound girl's bunghole. The fact that Rio and Paige despised each other continued warping my perception of events.   Barbie Lynn (farthest away in the closest group), Vivian, and Valarie were on the near side of the sheets. They weren't actually having sex but were talking in low voices with the occasional running of a hand through a companion's hair or tracing a finger from hip to thigh. It was sensual without being pornographic. It also appeared to be something they all three were enjoying.   In the middle section of my sleeping platform (it is an awesomely big bed) was Iona and Hope, who were doing a little more than cuddling together in quiet conversation. Hope stroked Iona's head compassionately as Iona gently teased and suckled on Hope's left breast. Every ounce of my experience cried out to me that Iona had initiated the sexual contact. That boggled the mind, right up there with Hope allowing a near stranger such intimate contact.   "Hey, Lover," Barbie Lynn gifted me with a sultry leer, "are you going to take that off or are you going to allow him to bust out on his own?" Bathing suit, cock, raging erection; got it. I yanked off my speedo fast enough to make my skin burn. I wrapped it up in a towel before tossing them in the clothes hamper.   I quickly plotted out my journey, figuring out where I was supposed to end up. I was giving up the illusion that I controlled events because if I was created in God's image and that was the reason God wanted men to rule over women, then I think God was really Goddess and Heaven's soul had it right, change sides.   Valarie gave me a fearless grin as I climbed over her on my way to the middle. She shifted so that her breasts swayed from side to side. I took in the view before kissing her and moving on.   "Try to settle things down by eleven, Zane," Vivian requested. I nodded and then kissed the tip of her nose, which she returned by kissing my forehead. It was very motherly of her, barring the fact that the sheets barely covered her pubic region and every exposed bit of her looked scrumptious.   My last hurdle was Barbie Lynn, and that was an obstacle in more than just the physical sense. She knew how to stretch and yawn just right for making my blood boil with lust and my vision cloud with desire.   "You will come back to me, Zane," she said with brazen tenderness. "Now go on and take care of the others who need you now." Best Blonde Bombshell ever.   As I settled behind Hope who was still facing Iona, I took it slow to let her instincts understand that I wasn't a threat but desirous of her.   "What's going on here?" I inquired delicately. "Hope, I didn't think you liked Iona all that much? And Iona, you have become much more confident in the past month; I like it."   "Zane, Iona is one of the bravest freshmen I've ever met. She's never backed down from a challenge and is smart enough to fight the battles she can win and send others to win the one's she can't," Hope explained. "I have admired her for some time."   "I know you wanted Hope to be put at ease," Iona related. "She's surrounded by people she has minimal familiarity with. I reasoned that I could help her adjust by doing what you do."   "Sexy, clever, lethal girls; this is definitely going on my Santa Wish List," I grinned. I was trying to settle in behind Hope when she wiggled around onto her back and indicated she wanted me to move between her and Iona. I was hardly in the mood to refuse and soon, both ladies were nestled in my arms. I was thinking about the next step when the situation around Mercy increased in energy and volume.   Hope pushed halfway over my chest and Iona turned away from me so they could watch the proceedings. Mercy was shivering like a leaf in a thunderstorm. Rio moved up so that her face was inches away from Paige's. I could see Paige contemplating her next action before she leaned into Rio. They each placed a hand behind the other's head to keep them close as they kissed.   "You smart-ass hooker," Rio snickered. "What flavor is that?" Mercy was cresting toward her orgasm unattended while Rio made small talk with Paige.   "Mango, lip balm and mouth wash," Paige beamed triumphantly. Rio snorted.   "Really start hammering the bitch," Rio ordered/requested. Paige nodded. She slowly drew back until only the tip of the fake phallus remained in Mercy's rectum before savagely slamming it all the way in as hard as she could.   Mercy squealed through her gag and began to violently spasm. Rio dismounted Mercy and flopped beside her partner's head.   "Don't you dare lose it, Cum-Bunny," Rio pressed Mercy. "Disappoint me and you will get nothing until the weekend. I won't let you touch anyone, even yourself. Are we clear?"   Mercy sobbed and nodded while her body teetered on the precipice of total collapse. Paige was displeased with Mercy's resistance and began spanking her thighs and buttocks hard enough to leave imprints. Rio kept stroking Mercy's hair and urging her to hang on. At the pinnacle of the moment I knew Mercy could not go on, Rio spoke softly into her ear.   "You annoying whore," she said, "I am so proud to be with you. Don't ever leave, now cum." Mercy's resulting climax was so powerful that her muscle spasms knocked Paige back on her heels knocking the strap-on mostly out of her ass. Mercy squirted, really squirted, onto Paige's lap, with even more juice shooting and coating Mercy's thighs and my sheets.   Up front, Mercy was cursing up a storm through her gag, grinding the fabric between her teeth with tears streaming out of her clenched eyes. Before her thrashing subsided, Rio had pulled the gag off and was kissing her fiercely on the lips, again and again. Mercy curled into a ball and Rio immediately wrapped her arms and legs around her Sub, keeping her presence light but comforting.   Rio saw our attention being directed their way and mouthed: 'Best Bitch Ever!' using her eyes to exaggerate the force of the words. Paige was still looking over the sticky mess that she had become.   "Put the contraption to soak in the big sink and take a shower," I suggested. Paige could see no flaw in my suggestion so she gave me a wink, unstrapped the device, and made her way out of the room.   When my eyes snapped back from watching a naked Paige exit, I saw that Hope's focus was on me.   "That looked fun," Hope stated clinically. "It is not for me but it definitely looked like they all felt, cleaner in a spiritual sense when they were done. I would never have suspected. In fact, I thought being bound was debasing and weak."   "It is called bondage and it is part of a sexual practice called BDSM, bondage, discipline, sadomasochism," I explained. "It definitely isn't for everyone, and certainly isn't as bizarre as Iona's furry fetish."   "Zane," Hope glared, "I saw a CSI episode on furries and you can't be an Asian or Asian-American high school girl in the United States and not know about cosplay; Iona and I are not into either one of those lifestyles I'm pretty sure."   While Hope was distracting me with her knowledge of other sexual subcultures, Iona snuck a hand beneath me and pinched my right ass cheek.   "Ow," I jumped. "What was that for, Beautiful?" I pleaded to Iona.   "I wanted to?" she responded meekly.   "That sounds like a perfectly good reason to me," I smiled. I would be somewhat offended if it was someone else but Iona was special; like Rio, she would always have my back, but unlike my chaotic fiend, she never abused my trust (or so I thought).   "Do me a favor?" Iona requested.   "Sure, anything for you," I answered right off the bat.   "Make her happy," Iona's eyes sparkled as the flickered to Hope. "Tickle my ear when you finish."   "Sure," I sighed with feigned regret, "if I have to."   "Thank you, Iona," Hope snorted in amusement, "I've got it from here."   "Nite-nite," Iona yawned, then rolled over and pretended to drop off to sleep. Like that was going to happen anytime soon!   "What no-, Hope got out before I rolled on top of her. I used one leg to wedge hers open, then settled between them as I lowered my body down. Hope looked at me quizzically.   "Touch me wherever you like," I instructed. I showed her what I meant by kissing her cheek, then edging around to suck on her earlobe.   Hope led off with her fingertips running along the muscles of my forearms and following a twisted trail up to my shoulders. With equal care, she began rubbing her toes along my calves, up to my knees and lower thighs. This had the added benefit of rotating her hips so that her pubic hair scratched along the veins of the base of my cock.   "You know this is going to make field work with you far more difficult," Hope murmured.   "Now you know what I've been going through for a month," I teased her back. "Now you know how I feel naked under your touch and so do I."   "You touch yourself much?" Hope giggled. Iona did her best to smother her own mirthful reaction.   "Maybe you should come to my bed more often to keep my hands otherwise occupied," I suggested. Hope arched her back, thrusting her breasts into my chest and laughed lyrically.   "Touch ," Hope conceded. "I wondered if I was imposing on your hospitality, wanting to spend tonight with you. Now I'm feeling as if I've been lured in and seduced by your masculine wiles."   "Zane, manipulating somebody!" Valarie gave a comedic gasp. "Well, there is always a first time for our ham-handed Lothario to launch a plot that doesn't involve him getting an extra fish stick for dinner."   "Ham-handed," Barbie Lynn mused. "His fingers are smoking but hardly ham-like," which she emphasized by rubbing her hand over her crotch.   "Do you often stick smoked country ham between your thighs, Barbie-Baby?" Valarie taunted.   "Only when your magic tongue and fingers aren't available," Barbie Lynn volleyed right back.   "Oh, you did not say that!" Valarie choked. She vaulted on top of Barbie Lynn and the two started wrestling. Vivian scooted toward the edge and fended off the combatants from rolling over her.   "When we graduate and drag you back to our dungeon to live, are you going to miss other bed partners having these mid-coital conversations?" Hope smirked.   "You underestimate your ability to focus my attention," I countered. When you are in bed with someone, you are in bed with THAT person, or so I believe. Hope's look sizzled, her body heated up, and she pulled me so close and tight, I couldn't make out any details beyond her eyes.   "I hate them," Hope purred.   "Who?" I worried. You don't want one good friend to hate another good friend. You really don't want a good friend with marksmanship skills out the ass not liking someone you have become attached to.   "Christina and Heaven," she sighed, but I knew she wasn't serious. "Christina because you would rather be with her and Heaven because she has you."   "Hope," I maneuvered so I could stroke her cheek, "I can't promise you or anyone else anything beyond this school year. Neither one of us qualifies as 'normal' by any definition of the word. I certainly like being with you, if that matters, and not just in bed. You are beautiful, intense, and serious in a way we shouldn't be."   "Serious is not the most intimate of descriptions," Hope joked, "but I think I know what you mean. As chaotic as your life is, I think we balance each other out." I didn't need words to agree with that; I let us return to our game of touch, kiss, and lick. We were getting back into a playful tempo when the fight between Valarie and Barbie Lynn ended.   There was no hot, spontaneous lesbian eruption; it devolved into Valarie having Barbie Lynn pinned with her wrists on the pillow held over her head. Valarie was trying to administer a 'Wet Willy' (sticking a finger, or tongue, into your opponent's ear) and finally succeeding.   "I give, I give," squealed Barbie Lynn. "Anything, just stop."   "Anything?" Valarie prodded suggestively. Barbie Lynn's very ample bosom heaved with each deep breath she took, which had the effect of rubbing them in circles against Valarie's dangling breasts.   "Come with me to the Southwest this summer," Valarie demanded. Barbie Lynn was still giving it serious thought when Paige came traipsing back in, drying her hair.   "Where in the Southwest?" Paige inquired. Valarie sat up on Barbie Lynn and looked over her shoulder at the albino lass.   "West of Laredo, East of the Pacific, South of Denver and North of Mexico," Valarie answered. "Sant Fe, Vegas, the Painted Desert, places like that." I didn't see coming what happened next.   "Valarie, would you consider allowing to me come along?" Paige asked politely.   "You really want to impress Zane that much?" Valarie divined Paige's intention.   "That, and he's most likely going with Rio as well," Paige responded, "so you are going to need all the help you can get." Rio didn't respond verbally, Mercy was still recovering, but glared with venom.   "What do you add to our little expedition?" Valarie asked.   "I'll do it," Barbie Lynn interjected. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do after graduation but seeing more of the world will do me good, and I hear it is cold in the desserts at night and I don't want Zane to catch a chill," she adds with a smile.   "I speak Spanish, plus a strong understanding of electronics, botany, and computers," Paige continued with a twinge of annoyance toward Barbie.   "Fine, both are in. We are getting our rides tomorrow afternoon at five," Valarie announced.   "Zane," Hope whispered, "I appreciate the silence of our first date now more than ever."   "We can go back to your place?" I offered.   "Oh, Chastity would love that," Hope snickered playfully. "I'm afraid if you don't ravish her in the next few weeks, she is going to rape Heaven."   "I'll keep that in mind, but right now I want to be where I am, with you," I kissed Hope's nose.   "Can I try something, Zane?" Hope turned serious and introspective.   "Of course," I said.   "Paige, come over here with me," Barbie Lynn suggested. The blonde wiggled over so that Valarie fell to the far side and indicated that Paige should join her.   "You only want to sex up my body," Paige accused Barbie Lynn, as she hopped onto the foot of the bed and put her fists defiantly on her hips.   "But of course I do, Paige-shugah," Barbie Lynn licked her lips, "now get over here and give me a taste."   "Oh. In that case, Paige scampered over and reclined next to the dynamite blonde. Barbie Lynn had a strong, subtly alluring persona while Paige was constantly aggressive.   "A naked Paige Zeller sexual molesting an equally naked Barbie Lynn Masters will go down as yet another thing I never thought I'd see," Hope mused.   "Be careful who you think is molesting who," I cautioned Hope. A few seconds later Paige shook and fluttered. Barbie Lynn had slid a stealthy hand between Paige's thighs.   "Oh, someone's been a bad little kitty," Barbie Lynn cooed, "A bad, soaking wet little kitty." Paige hiccupped, then shuddered again. "Does kitty need to be petted," Barbie asked as she stroked Paige's love box, "or does kitty need to be spanked?" And Barbie Lynn spanked Paige's cunt lightly, making Paige jerk.   "Master, I stand corrected," Hope nodded her head to me in respect of my sexual insight.   "You wanted to do something?" I brought Hope back on track.   "Yes, Zane, yes I did," Hope smiled. "Please lie on your back and close your eyes." It was my turn to nod as I complied with her wishes. She settled her haunches on my crotch and waited a moment.   First was a kiss, followed in slow progression by a finger, nose, earlobe, toe, two fingers coated in her juices, two fingers coated in Paige's juices, a nipple (most likely the right), her other nipple coated in Barbie Lynn's juices, Valarie's tongue (given away by the movement toward me), Hope's tongue, her other big toe, and ending with her lips and tongue. The anticipation of what was coming next was fun. As Hope reclined on top of me, Mercy finally began to stir.   "Were you a good little tramp tonight?" Rio panted hungrily at her partner.   "Yes, I, was I?" Mercy rasped. She was fighting to stay awake, her fatigue a heavy burden to bear.   "The Slut will say 'Yes Mistress; yes I was allowed to be good tonight'," Rio nuzzled Mercy's neck, ear, and jaw.   "Yes, Mistress," Mercy purred. "My wonderfully annoying Mistress allowed me to be good tonight." Rio spanked Mercy's burning hot ass flank hard. Mercy flinched and cried out in pain.   "Did I tell you to adlib, you annoying, frustrating skank," Rio taunted her, "or is my whore clever enough to sneak in an undeserved spanking?"   Mercy buried her face in a pillow but I could swear she was smiling.   "Nipple clamps for you in the morning, and I'm getting those bitches pierced on Saturday, got it?" Rio clarified the point by rolling each nipple between her forefinger and thumb. Mercy nodded but kept her face in the pillow. "Fine, let's get underneath the covers. Snuggle up with me to keep me warm, and you had better suckle my nipples.   Rio took up her normal sleeping area, avoiding the wet spot, with Mercy at her side, her tongue playing with Rio's left nipple.   "Mercy," Rio whispered. Mercy kept tongue-flicking the nipple but looked up.   "You rock," Rio said even softer. Mercy pulled more of her weary body over Rio as the nipple play continued and Rio began stroking her paramour's hair lovingly. In that relationship, it was getting harder to determine who the 'better' half was.   I searched around blindly for some lube, which had 'mystically' migrated under Barbie Lynn's pillow.   "Hope, put some oil on my cock and on your ass cleft," I told my Korean princess. She barely broke her iron mask of indifference before taking the bottle and doing as directed. I caught sight of Valarie, Vivian, and Barbie Lynn all peeking my way.   I imagined it was the curiosity about my apparent decision to 'break' Hope in anally.   "Hope, point my cock up and mount it," I directed. In theme with the game the two of us played, Hope took my commands without question, even to the point where her virginity was in question.   "Push it back," I stopped Hope's decent as it contacted her rather moist slit. She pushed back a little. Being a virgin, she probably wasn't sure where in the cunt, a cock should penetrate. "Farther back," I insisted, then again, "no, still farther." I felt my rod separate her ass cheeks as Hope slid on down. Only when her now soaking mound settled on my pubic bone did she figure out the game.   "Ah, that's cold," Valarie whispered to Vivian and Barbie Lynn.   "No ass sex for Hope tonight," lamented Barbie Lynn. My precious blonde really loved anal sex. I put my hands on Hope's hips to support her.   "Now ride me, Hope," I smiled. "Give me everything you've got."   Hope started out slow, working out a rhythm that pushed my shaft and cockhead as deep along her ass crack as possible. She even stopped for a moment and applied more lube. Soon she was thrusting hard back and up quickly, then allowing a long, leisurely ride back to my crotch. She bounced down on me again and again, her resounding impact on my crotch becoming a wetter, smacking sound.   Hope was powerful, vibrant, and strong; she needed little of the guidance provided by my hands on her hips. I decided to move my right hand to her finely groomed pubic hair, then to her soft pubic flesh itself. I alternated between splitting her lips open and massaging her clit. With my left hand, I coaxed stimulation from her right areola and nipple.   This time, instead of scarring me, Hope wrapped her fingers in her hair. She gave a few desperate convulsions, then her whole body tensed backwards.   "Zane! Oh, fuck!" she screamed. Her ass cheeks tried to squeeze my cock in a steel-tight vise but fortunately, the lube caused it to pop free before those buns of steel could turn my man-meat into ground beef (sometimes I visualize too graphically).   "I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes," Vivian sighed. "A girl comes to a boy

 This episode's guests:Yana Yakushina, Lawyer and Researcher.James Lowenthal, Astronomer.Vicky Derksen, Night Sky Tourist.Bill's News Picks:Randomised trial reveals a mismatch between preferences for and hormonal responses to anthropogenic light colour temperatures, PLOS One. Light Wavelength Modulates the Effects of Lighted Nights on Sleep, Metabolism and Oxidative Stress in Female Zebra Finches, Journal of Experimental Zoology Part A: Ecological and Integrative Physiology. The Great New Zealand Road Trip: ‘You New Zealanders take your stars for granted' - the striking words of a tourist that helped turn this Kiwi region dark, Shayne Currie, The New Zealand Herald. This Chappell Roan song boosted interest in a Canadian dark sky preserve by 1,800%, Elizabeth Howell, Space.com. Inside New Brunswick's ambitious plan for the world's densest dark-sky corridor, Jamie Carter, Space.com. Subscribe:Apple PodcastSpotifyYoutubeSend Feedback Text to the Show!Support the showA hearty thank you to all of our paid supporters out there. You make this show possible. For only the cost of one coffee each month you can help us to continue to grow. That's $3 a month. If you like what we're doing, if you think this adds value in any way, why not say thank you by becoming a supporter! Why Support Light Pollution News? Receive quarterly invite to join as live audience member for recordings with special Q&A session post recording with guests. Receive all of the news for that month via a special Supporter monthly mailer. Satisfaction that your support helps further critical discourse on this topic. About Light Pollution News: The path to sustainable starry night solutions begin with being a more informed you. Light Pollution, once thought to be solely detrimental to astronomers, has proven to be an impactful issue across many disciplines of society including ecology, crime, technology, health, and much more! But not all is lost! There are simple solutions that provide for big impacts. Each month, Bill McGeeney, is joined by upwards of three guests to help you grow your awareness and understanding of both the challenges and the road to recovering our disappearing nighttime ecosystem.

Joining Robert Pilot, Shelley Buck and Dana Thompson (board vice-chair) of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi join for to talk about what's ahead for the nonprofit. Ruth Buffalo E.D of MIWRC joins us too.

A Cheated-on Halloween Spectre Dead husband returns for revenge on wife and lover. Based on a post by LitEro Cat. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The thin curtain between the living and the dead realms is weakest on All Saints Eve. Wraiths like me begin to cross into the living domain at the stroke of local midnight, but at the 3AM. witching hour, the veil briefly ceases to exist. For one hour, we can easily cross both ways. At midnight on All Saints Day, the curtain becomes impenetrable and we are stuck on either side until the next Halloween. I'm here in my former bedroom in San Diego, to avenge my murder, by my not-so-loving wife, not merely to watch her sleeping naked with my former best friend. Dead exactly one year, I've had that long to practice my deathly powers. Our atoms are spread to a tenth of our former density which allows us to appear to fly and to pierce denser objects. The only real new power we have is to affect gravity at a tiny level. That is how I can pull the sheet off my wife and her lover. I can see and feel quite well, even hear, taste, and smell the fresh scent of sex from my bed. The taste of pheromone is strong, especially when I raise her leg and lick her pussy or his shrunken cock. He is still coated in their mixed cum, so she chose not to lick him clean, as usual. I spread her pussy lips and see his cum oozing out of her.  So, she shaved her red bush for him. When I lick her clit, she stirs. "Oh Bill, I can't go again. Isn't twice in an hour enough for you?" I started moving his hand off her tit, which wakes him. I raise his dick and squeeze it, as I shove some dense air hard on his balls. Twice in an hour? I was lucky to get it twice a month. "Ow! Kim, there's no need to hurt me. I was asleep. Is that how you treated Ken after sex? No wonder he was always grumpy. Don't treat me like that, or you can end up like he did." "Are you seriously threatening me? You woke me by fingering my pussy and rubbing your cock against my ass." She rolled onto her back, knees up and apart, pussy spread and leaking, big tits sloping sideways to her pits. Her red hair formed a halo around her head. She was as beautiful as I remembered, and gave me an ecto-hard on; well we don't have blood to do it, so ectoplasm has to "fill in" for it. Did I mention that we have no use for clothes so we are naked and use ectoplasm to disguise that when needed? Today, it wasn't needed. My cock swelled bigger than in life, at the thought of eating her. As soon as she dozed off again, I drifted down from the ceiling, planted my face on her wet pussy, and lapped up some cream pie on my way to her clit. My tongue pushed her hood side-to-side until it presented her hard pearly glans. I sucked and nibbled it just as she liked. She gasped and her head shot hard left. A long groan escaped her as her chest, tits and neck flushed. I still had the skills. "Oh Bill, oh. I said no more tonight. I thought you hated cream pie. Ken used to nibble on my clit like that and eat his cum. I forgot how much I miss that. Bill?" Her bright green eyes squinted. Bill was lightly snoring. Angered, she straddled his face, pulled his jaw open and spread her wet pussy to let his spent cum fill his own mouth. His body spasmed and tried to force her off, but she gripped the back of his neck and held on. He had no choice but to swallow his salty cream. He sputtered; she laughed. Seeds of discontent planted, I floated away to look for my laptop. It was in its usual place. In my small desk drawer, sat my collection of flash drives including a new pack of three. I had to create a scalpel to cut open the pack then plugged a new one into the PC. With a delicate touch, I opened WordPerfect and began typing these notes. Once I get them to admit on my USB recorder who killed me and how, I can send that to the police and have my revenge. It's 8AM. and they are eating, naked, as I listen in. They are planning to attend a one-year ceremony for me. Watching my ex bustle around the kitchen makes her sweet ass jiggle, her tits dance, and two cocks stiffen. Bill swings her around to straddle his lap and slides her smoothly onto his cock. Though I hate her, I still crave her fucking awesome body. "Oh, you feel so good, deep inside me. Bill, how long have you practiced that move? I think the first time you pulled that on me, was four years ago, when Ken insisted we go to a carnival commando, all of us. He made the mistake of removing my panties in front of you; then flashing my bare pussy as proof. That was the first time I saw your cock too, when you guys both stripped in front of me. We laughed, but that was the start for us, wasn't it?" "Yes. I recall Ken squeezing my dick and passing it to you to stroke and watch it swell. At the carnival, both of us kept spinning you so your dress flew up and you flashed everyone around. We all laughed. It wasn't until later that night, in this very kitchen, that I pulled that move and impaled you on my cock the first time. Your dress settled on us and we both felt the sparks. Then Ken came in with some wine. You went for glasses, but the fool didn't know I had just claimed your snug pussy. He must have seen me stuffing my cock away, yet said nothing. I guess he trusted us." Four years? I was a fool. That's, that's  when she started refusing me sex. So they were fucking for three years before my death. Maybe if I embarrass her enough, and make her blame Bill, I can get them arguing. That will be tough since she likes exposing herself, if she can't be blamed. Wait. Is that the mourning dress she's wearing? It's backless, low on top and high on bottom. At least it's black. It's a cocktail dress for seduction, hardly for mourning. No panties or bra, just a diamond pendant to draw attention to her shapely tits. It tapers at the waist, then has a wide zipper to the bottom. I can work with that. My ceremony was at a small church. The front entrance was across a creek with a 100-foot bridge over it. Parking was near the bridge, then we had to walk it, and everyone took a moment to absorb the quiet landscape. Ignoring the gossip about disrespecting me, they walked hand-in-hand to the bridge. She shook free and walked a step ahead of him; a pretense of respect. Once she was free of him, I acted. Before she reached the middle of the bridge, I lifted her skirt to her ribs exposing her sweet ass and wanton pussy to all our old friends. She fought the dress and scowled at Bill. When she straightened up, I pushed both narrow straps off her shoulders and down to her waist. Both luscious bouncy tits, capped with hard nipples, lit up in the bright sunshine. She squealed, bringing more attention to her beautiful tits. Then glared at Bill, who shrugged innocently. She turned to go back to the car, but Bill stopped her and reminded her how inappropriate it would be to miss her husband's ceremony. She was expected to praise me from a lectern. Her angry glare burned through Bill. He dropped back a few more steps, yet the back of her dress went up above her waist in the breeze I created. Bill had to choose whether to risk telling her. He chose to stay quiet and, with the others, watched her big round naked ass wiggle across the bridge. In the church, Bill wisely chose to sit in the first row, but across the aisle from where Kim sat. The minister came to Kim and clipped a small wireless microphone to her dress. Then he started a recording of the event, to give Kim later. Finally, he opened the meeting and said a few general words. Then he introduced Kim, my "grieving" wife. When she moved into the narrow aisle, I moved her hand behind her and unzipped her dress, then slid it off. With the dress on the floor, she stood naked except for her shoes. She gasped and froze, leaving her sexy, inappropriate ass exposed to everyone. She glanced at Bill who threw his hands up. The minister had a perfect full frontal view, and stood open-mouthed. Now she was finally embarrassed; not at being naked, but at believing that everyone thought She had deliberately stripped. After a long red-faced moment where the entire front row drooled over her big swinging tits, she bent, exposing her pussy and ass hole, as she exclaimed in a loud voice that She didn't do that and it was a cheap prank by her former friend, Bill. As soon as she touched her dress, I licked her pussy which made her squeak and fall on the floor face up and legs apart, facing the gathering and making a lovely spectacle. Dress in hand, big tits dancing, she stumbled to her feet then ran past the minister, to the rest room, while the congregation sat in stunned silence. I flew through the restroom door and stared at her confused face and beautiful naked body. She leaned against a wall and tried sorting things out. When she covered her face with both hands, I ran two ecto-fingers into her wet pussy with care. She gasped. When I rubbed her clit side-to-side and sucked it, she shouted my name. The little wireless microphone caught it. The gathering assumed that was in grief. Her eyes closed, her hands gripped the wall; she began gasping louder. I edged her toward a loud orgasm; she groaned when I stopped. Edging her again got her moaning and calling my name. Sweat ran down her naked body as she twisted and shouted a stream of obscenities until I reached her G spot and twisted another finger into her tight ass. "Oh, Yes, Yes, fuck me Ken. It must be you. Bill doesn't measure up to you. He doesn't know your tricks with my clit, or G-spot, or my ass. I forgot how much, Oh-Oh, I miss sex with you. I'm so sorry we killed you. It was Bill's idea to rub peanut oil in your Halloween mask before the party. Oh-Oh, fuck me harder. After you went into shock, I swapped your mask with a clean one. I'm so sorry! Please, Bill. Please Fuck me like I used to let you!" Someone was banging hard on the door. I leaned my head through it and saw it was Bill. It was time to share a new trick with her. I formed an ecto cock, a foot long. After licking her tasty twat, I pushed my new phantom cock fully into her and made it triple width so it rubbed her lower clit and her G spot together. Her eyes crossed. As she started to climax, I twisted my ecto-finger in her ass and gave her the most intense orgasm she ever had, one that she would never have again. The minister unlocked the door and he and Bill found her confused, rubbing her clit, and drooling on the floor. Bill helped her up and put her dress on her before carrying her out to the car. I rushed home and finished typing these notes and saved them to the flash drive before my murderers arrived. As they pulled into the driveway, I opened the garage door, pulled my bike off the hangers, and rode it past them and down the road. Since they couldn't see me, all they saw was a "living" bike pedal away on its own. I flew back inside quickly. When they approached the only kitchen entry, they found it blocked by all the canned goods from the open pantry. Kim screamed. Epilogue: She accused Bill of stripping her in front of the gathering; he denied it and could not convince her. They broke up that night. The next day, police arrested them both for my murder and conspiracy. The church recording and all the witnesses to the spontaneous confession gave probable cause. I decided to hang around longer than I intended. Since I missed my window to return to the land of the dead, I watched the trial, conviction, and start of their life sentences. While I'm stuck here with the living, I visit Kim in her prison cell and fuck her daily. She scares her Hispanic cellmate when she shudders and cums. The Latina is convinced it's voodoo. The doctor thinks she is epileptic and treats her with stupefying meds and restraints. On random days, during her lunch period, I strip her in front of the lesbian prisoners and guards, bend her over a table, and fuck her to shivering orgasms as they watch. She finishes her lunch naked.  I won't say what I do to Bill, daily. Nor what the Sexual predators make sport of doing, after they saw him bent over bare-assed. It will be Halloween every day for her, until I cross back. Revenge is so sweet. Jan's Ghost Guest Pam wants her house back and haunts a housewarming. LitEro Cat Ghost Guest A month after buying a distressed house, then getting it into 'move-in' shape, we threw a housewarming party for friends and new neighbors. Everything was going smoothly that day, I even kept my weekly tennis outing that Saturday. On the way home, I picked up the Deli order and just needed to change into a casual party outfit, before the guests arrived. Arriving home ,I saw the drier had failed to dry the laundry, including my intended party wardrobe choice. So I left on my tennis outfit and helped Jake set out the beverages and snacks. Then the doorbell rang, and I greeted my first guests. The few neighbors who came, were less outgoing than I hoped. Jake invited coworkers  their spouses, and his hunting buddies. I invited a few couples, too. They seemed to form their own groups, with shielded whisperings whenever they looked at me or my husband, Jake. I approached one whom I knew from work, Bev, and asked about the secrecy. "Well, Jan, you know; a notorious single woman died in this house. The agent must have told you."  She hadn't. Bev filled me in; "Pam was in her forties, divorced, and had a reputation for sleeping around, yet she was bitter and miserable when she got sick. She died suddenly, and no one went to her funeral. She loved this house, especially her 'meditation' room, which you converted into your workout room. Thanks for the open invitation, but don't expect any more to come. Jake's den was her 'special guest' room where she 'entertained.' Some say she still haunts this place and they won't enter." "Isn't that silly, believing in ghosts?" I smirked. A glass slid across the buffet table and crashed on the floor, though no one was near the table. The crowd hushed and stared. "No worries.” I assured them all. “Someone must have bumped the table. Jake, would you clean that up?" House Tour. I continued to show the house. When I got to the meditation room, something swiftly unzipped and pulled my short tennis skirt to the floor. No one was near me. As I quickly fixed it and reached up to show pull bar on the Nautilus exercise machine, my crop top pulled off me with so much force, it pulled me off balance, then it flew across the room. Some guests trembled in fear, others simply smiled knowingly, and looked around. Before I let go of the pull bar, to fetch my top, my bra unclipped and flew across the room. As if baring my tits to my guests wasn't enough, something bonded my grip to the bar and held my arms straight up. Every man there tented his slacks. Still in denial, and refusing to be embarrassed, I begged, "Great gag. Who's doing this?" "Say what I say, or more punishment comes." came a hoarse voice in my ear. Startled, I looked around and shouted to empty air, "No. I won't say that. Who are you?" The crowd of about 15 people looked at me and stared at my dangling tits. Then, my mouth spoke Pam's words, "Everybody Join Me. Show Off Your Tits. Come Look At Mine And Feel Them."  Two women then bared their tits, staring at me, entranced. Their men approached me and felt my tits. They pinched my nipples, shrugged, and walked away. When they approached the door, it slammed shut. No one could open it. Though my arms were still held up, Pam was more annoyed and pulled my skirt to the floor again. I shrieked and stood topless in my sheer thong. My guests began to understand my connection to Pam. The same two men circled me and examined my ass with their eyes and fingers as others felt panic rise. Pam finally released my grip, and I sat at the workout bench.  The ghost named Pam then forced my arms down, made them unzip the men, and extract their stiff cocks. "Repeat for me, Pam ordered. Then I declared her words; “These Two Happily Married Men, And Others Of You, Frequented My Guest Room, And Tasted My Charms." Pam controlled my hands as I jerked the two men, as their wives and other guests watched. The men resisted, yet stepped out of their slacks as if in a trance, and felt up my flawless ass. When I strained to stop jerking the men, Pam whispered, "Still resisting? Okay."  I was pressed onto my back, lying on the workout bench. I was Still stroking two big, stiff cocks, my thong got yanked, then started to slide down. When my minimal bush appeared, the two topless women gasped and rubbed themselves; their husbands smiled. The loss of my thong exposed my stiff clit. Seeing no harm in Pam's control, I began to enjoy showing off my body without shame. Several men moaned, including Jake. When the loss of the thong exposed my swollen labia, as the stretchy little cloth fell to my feet, I was deliciously naked in my housewarming, in front of my captive audience. To keep up appearances, I shouted, "Someone help. What's happening?" I wondered if they could see how wet I was. "We tried to warn you.” Bev said. “Pam was a vindictive bitch. She's not done with you yet." "Well, this is my house now and I make the rules." That may have been too much for Pam to accept. She whispered, "Really? Let's move to the weight bench and see." Against my will, Both my tits rose up as if pulled by my nipples, then dropped heavily. My mouth dropped with the sudden pain. Looking down, I saw my nipples being twisted and pinched though no one touched me. Something kicked my feet apart and spread my lips open for my guests. I felt a cold chill lick me, and then something unseen enter my pussy. It felt bigger than any cock I'd ever had in me. The pain matched the pleasure it gave. My clit shifted and jumped from its hood. I felt teeth scraping it. When my tits were squeezed and released, with my nipples twisting up tall and hard, I screamed out an ear-piercing climax. Hanging my gasping head, I fell to my knees and pulled the two cocks I still held; to my mouth. Already at the edge, my tongue lapping their cocks was enough to make both cum around and in my mouth. As I swallowed their cum, a chilly finger twisted into my ass. I came again and fell on my chest as the cold finger fucked my ass. I'm No stranger to anal, and that was still something wonderful and new. The two wives, already knowing their husbands had sought out Pam for casual sex, watched their men cum on me. Their fingers were quietly in their panties, jilling their pussies and rubbing their clits. They twisted their tall nipples and climaxed when their husbands did. Everyone watched the two women fully strip, then attack each other's husband expecting their stiffness to last longer after their release. Pam smiled knowing the town's secrets and seeing that one exposed. The icy finger left my ass; I sighed. Though I began believing, I said, "This is an elaborate trick. I still won't believe in ghosts." "Really? Explain This."  Speaking Pam's words, I said, "No one has helped Jan arrange anything  in this room, so no one knows what's in Jan's closet. Yet I do." The closet door swung open, revealing a box which fell open, off the high shelf. In it were several vibrators. One of them lifted up and moved to my hand. Still naked, cum covered, and several feet from anyone, I levitated a few feet. Turned to face the weight bench face down, I felt an angled pillow move under me. When I lay across it with my hips on it, I knew my bare ass was offered to all. With my legs pulled apart, my rear hole and special rear view of my swollen, wet pussy were clearly lit. I heard someone whisper, "Beautiful pussy." I sighed with pride. A spanking paddle flew out of the closet and slammed my ass hard on one cheek. Jake later told me my ass flushed bright red as I screamed. My arms were pinned so I had no defense against the hard whack on my other cheek. "Believe Me Now, Bitch?" "No!" "Now you're just being stubborn. Or are you starting to enjoy this? Can't have that."  My sexy cheeks spread, my lusty pussy on display, Pam showed everyone my winking, crinkled hole. The vibrator in my hand flew up and twisted itself into my pussy before turning on. Another vibrator flew from the box and wormed its way into my ass before turning on. The paddle went high, then slapped one cheek hard before rising again and slapping the other. I groaned and climaxed again as if full of two, big cocks. Bev said, "Jan, give up. She will just continue to torture you until you do.” Give her what she demands. Then The fun will end." "OK. I believe you, Pam. Are you satisfied, bitch? Show yourself. What do you want?" In Pam's voice, "I want my home back. But I know I need someone to be my contact. If you refuse, then you must move out." I answered, "If you can live here peacefully with us, we can have fun together. May I have my clothes back?" "Not yet, Jan. Let's move to the new den." I flew off the bench and landed in front of my guests. Bev passed me a napkin to wipe the cum off my face. In the den, Pam spoke through me again, "My Queen bed took most of this room. This is where I fucked most of the men here, and went down with several women. Jan should know who her neighbors are." Jake flew up a few feet, threw up his arms, and his shirt flew off. The rest of his clothes flew off next and he was as naked as I was. Everything on his desk slid to the floor as Jake gently lay on his back there with his stiff cock pointing up. His knees came up with a grunt as his cock bent stiffly down. He moaned, "oh, so cold," as a misty image of a beautiful, shapely, greenish, young woman appeared above him with her cheeks sucking on his cock. Many terrified fingers pointed; Bev said, "That's her; that's Pam.” Another said; “I'd know her perfect tits and ass anywhere. Oops." Her secret was out. It was not to be the last. Pam pointed at Bev and in Pam's voice she said. "Yes, Bev and I were lovers. Jake here was one of my clients for several years, though Jan didn't know. I pushed him to buy my house from probate, so we could continue to fuck, with a provision. I wanted him and Jan to be my daily lovers and all my other clients to be welcome here in my bed. Jake agreed. Do you agree, Jan? Watch what I can make your husband do for me and in you."  Jake lurched and grunted several times as he launched a fountain of cum into Pam's mouth and through her head. The plume of cum fell back through her and landed on his balls.  "Bev, come lick this up. Jan, we await your decision." Pam was All smiles as Bev approached Jake, hungry for his cum, her clothes fell off with each step. By the time she spread his legs, she was tit-slinging naked in front of her neighbors, yet she didn't mind. She lifted his balls and began licking them clean, his shaft, his crown, and sucking the last of his cream from him. He was so thrilled with the intense warmth of her mouth, he came again, nearly filling her cheeks. I'd never seen my husband launch his cum like that, or Bev naked and hungry like that. When I approached, Bev was sharply bent over. I knelt behind her, spread her smooth cheeks and licked her wrinkled hole as my thumb pumped her pussy and spread her tangy juice around her anus. When I gently shifted her clit, she gifted me with a flood of her nectar. I fingered myself and mixed my juice with hers. The taste made me dizzy. She made Jake cum again and swallowed it all. I stood and settled my sex against her warm ass. Pam, still floating above them, rotated until her legs spread around me and I saw, then tasted her chilly, soaked pussy. Nearly as dense as when alive, I mumbled into her sweet-tasting pussy, "Yes, Yes. I accept. I want this pussy daily and I want all of you to feel free to visit us like this. We'll also have a monthly party for all of you. Thank you, Pam." Based on a post by LitEro Cat, for Literotica.

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Ow

In this episode of "Normal World," Dave Landau, 1/4 Black Garrett, and Angela open with reflections on the shocking tragedy involving Charlie Kirk. They consider how far America has fallen since the unity of September 11, 2001, examining the rise of political violence, the failures of leadership, and the cultural fractures pulling the country apart. The conversation then shifts to lighter ground with stories of rodeo life, bull riding, and the resilience that comes from growing up in demanding environments. The hosts trade experiences about childhood, country living, and encounters with Australia's unpredictable wildlife, from snakes and spiders to kangaroos. Later, the discussion turns reflective, weighing the pressures of America's nonstop hustle culture against the slower pace found abroad. The group explores family, parenting, and the importance of stepping back to value life beyond work. The show closes with a live studio performance of the new single “Ow in Cowboy,” performed by Shea Fisher. Today's guests on "Normal World" are Derek Richards and Shea Fisher. Sponsors Blue Chew Join BlueChew's mission to upgrade humanity one thrust at a time. Head to https://bluechew.com/ for details and safety info. As always, get your first month of BlueChew FREE Just use promo code NORMAL at checkout and pay five bucks for shipping. Lean If you want to lose meaningful weight at a healthy pace and keep it off... Add LEAN to your diet and exercise lifestyle. Get 20% OFF WHEN YOU ENTER NORMAL at www.takelean.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Joining Robert Pilot Kahomy Weston,new Dakota lifeways video series that Owámniyomni Okhódayapi is launching next week. And Robert Liligren NACDI

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This week, our Global FX & EM strategists, Patrick Locke, Antonin Delair and Anezka Christovova discuss recent developments for the dollar, takeaways from our suite of systematic FX signals,  and what's behind our EM FX upgrade to OW this week. This podcast was recorded on 08 August 2025. This communication is provided for information purposes only. Institutional clients can view the related report at https://www.jpmm.com/research/content/GPS-5035130-0 , https://www.jpmm.com/research/content/GPS-5049466-0  for more information; please visit www.jpmm.com/research/disclosures for important disclosures. © 2025 JPMorgan Chase & Co. All rights reserved. This material or any portion hereof may not be reprinted, sold or redistributed without the written consent of J.P. Morgan. It is strictly prohibited to use or share without prior written consent from J.P. Morgan any research material received from J.P. Morgan or an authorized third-party (“J.P. Morgan Data”) in any third-party artificial intelligence (“AI”) systems or models when such J.P. Morgan Data is accessible by a third-party. It is permissible to use J.P. Morgan Data for internal business purposes only in an AI system or model that protects the confidentiality of J.P. Morgan Data so as to prevent any and all access to or use of such J.P. Morgan Data by any third-party.  

Joining Robert Pilot: Minnesota State Rep Heather Keeler, Kahomy Weston from Owámniyomni and Jalisa McKee

In light of the...everything...going on with Microsoft, we wanted to take a more positive spin from it since the negatives have been thoroughly covered by those suited to do so. That said, a link to the layoff news is below as a starting point, if you missed what's been going on. So if Microsoft is going to lay off every person they hired while still keeping Xbox going...who should they contract and pay to work on their games? Heck, who should PlayStation and Nintendo do this with as well? Look, when they lay off 9000 people during the 4th layoff in 2 years, we don't have much to work with in terms of "positive"... MORE PLACES TO FIND USCrubscribe ► https://bit.ly/CrubcastGet the show early and get exclusive content at our Patreon ► https://www.patreon.com/crubOur Crubcasts are recorded LIVE at https://www.twitch.tv/crub_official every Tuesday at 7pm Eastern, with EXCLUSIVE Pre- and Post-ShowsJoin our Discord ► https://crub.org/joinBlueSky ► https://bsky.app/profile/crub.orgCome join our Steam group ► https://steamcommunity.com/groups/crubclubPodcasts are available on Apple, Google, Spotify, and other platforms are available at ► https://crub.orgSHOW NOTESKevin's audio was weird this episode. Please do not bully him about it.Article on layoffs at Microsoft, Xbox:https://www.theverge.com/news/693535/microsoft-layoffs-july-2025-xboxArticle on Halo Studio's low morale, just to back that up:https://www.trueachievements.com/news/halo-devs-reportedly-unhappy-with-the-quality-next-gameThe "this guy" referred to at 29:00 is the Pale Man from Pan's Labyryinth, just so you know as an audio listener.Check out CRANKIN OUR HOGS here: https://www.patreon.com/c/crub/posts?filters%5Btag%5D=crankin+our+hogsTODAY'S CRUBCAST HOSTSBrody: https://www.youtube.com/@RACROXKevin: https://www.youtube.com/@TheGoldenBoltNicco: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCl56kbl3tb-KiGEHT7MUGUgCHAPTERS00:00 Hit new single, "Ow, my schmingus!" coming soon06:23 Brody kinda wants an IO Interactive Dishonored game12:49 If Toys For Bob ISN'T doing Spyro 4...22:04 You are not prepared for Nicco's galaxy brain31:07 The team that should bring us Sly 5 is...41:09 Successors that don't have a studio in the wings52:32 Funkin With PaRappa (Explicit)59:14 What have we learned today? ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

I want to hear your thoughts about the show and this episode. Text us here...In this raw and deeply personal episode, I share a story that stopped me in my tracks... being called an anti-Semite for standing up for what I believe in and for speaking up against Alligator Alcatraz. But instead of backing down, I want to lean into truth, integrity, and my own values.This is a reflection on the legacy of a woman who embodied true confidence: the unforgettable Hat Lady. From personal heartbreak to profound life lessons about generosity, resilience, and living in alignment with your values, this episode is a timely reminder that confidence isn't about being understood; it's about knowing who you are.As a life coach for women, I don't always get it right. I want to let others know it is okay to stand for what they believe. You will always have people who criticize you, attack you for your beliefs, and write you off as a crazy woman. Will it be easy? No... in the end, attacks say more about the other person than it does about you.That is their choice. Your choice is to stay true to your values. This is an invitation to join a supportive community of purpose-driven entrepreneurs who are creating an impact in the world.A mastermind is a community of peers who exchange ideas, provide support, and offer sound advice for running a successful business.Join the Confident YOU Mastermind now at https://goconfidentlyservices.myflodesk.com/confidentyoumastermindSupport the showOther helpful resources for you: For more about me and what I do, check out my website. Are you ready to get some help with:Podcast launch/re-launchPodcast growth, to increase your authority and position yourself as the thought leader you are. Or Leveraging your podcast to build your online biz and get more clientsSign up for a FREE 30 minute Confident Podcast Potential Discovery Call In this session I will: Identify the pain point that is holding you back. Suggest a next step strategy for solving the pain point.https://calendly.com/goconfidentlycoaching/30-minutes-free-coaching-sessioin Then we will talk about working together to accelerate the process. Do you want a podcast audit? Check out this link If you're looking for support to grow your business faster, be positioned as an authority in your industry, and impact the masses, schedule a call to explore if you'd be a good fit for one of my coaching programs. Thank you for listening to our podcast. Please Subscribe! ...

A race engineer, a driver coach, and a journalist walk into a bar on Memorial Day.“Ow,” says the journalist. (Figures. The other two were smart enough to use the door.)Is this an episode where we break down and analyze this year's Indy 500 and Monaco Grand Prix? Indeed! Did we do this exact same thing last year? Indeed! This show's format rotates weekly, because squirrel. We call this format “Ripped From the Headlines.”CLARIFICATION: Shortly after this ep was taped, IndyCar announced tech-violation penalties for this year's 500. Three finishers—Ericsson, Kirkwood, and Illot—lost their original finishing positions and were demoted down the field.RELATED TRIVIA: The Baird's Beaked Whale has 13 stomachs. A yak has four. A llama has three stomachs. Are these seemingly random bits of information related to this episode? Listen and find out! (Or don't. It's your choice, and we respect that.) This episode was produced by Mike Perlman.**Who We Are + Spicy Merch:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.ItsNotTheCar.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Support It's Not the Car:Contribute on Patreon ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.patreon.com/notthecar⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Topic suggestions, feedback, questions? Let us know what you think!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠INTCPod@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Check out Sam's book!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Smithology: Thoughts, Travels, and Semi-Plausible Car Writing, 2003–2023⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Where to find us:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/intcpod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/thatsamsmith/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/j.v.braun/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/rossbentley/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://rossbentley.substack.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://speedsecrets.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**ABOUT THE SHOW:It's Not the Car is a podcast about people and speed. We tell racing stories and leave out the boring parts.Ross Bentley is a former IndyCar driver, a bestselling author, and a world-renowned performance coach. Jeff Braun is a champion race engineer. Sam Smith is an award-winning writer and a former executive editor of Road & Track magazine.We don't love racing for the nuts and bolts—we love it for what it asks of the meatbag at the wheel.New episodes every Tuesday.

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