Podcasts about Physics

In this episode of Longevity by Design, host Dr. Gil Blander sits down with Dr. Albert-László Barabási, Professor at Northeastern University, to explore how networks shape health, aging, and nutrition. Barabási explains how biological and social networks influence resilience, robustness, and our ability to recover from stress or disease. He describes aging as a gradual loss of resilience, where the body becomes less able to bounce back from small disruptions.The conversation moves into the world of nutrition, where Barabási introduces the concept of “nutritional dark matter.” He argues that food contains thousands of little-known molecules, many of which play key roles in health but remain largely unmapped and unstudied. Barabási breaks down how these compounds, especially those found in plants, support cellular function far beyond the traditional nutrients listed on food labels.The episode closes with a look at ultra-processed foods and their link to disease risk. Barabási shares new research tools that can help people evaluate what they eat and make smarter choices. Throughout, he reminds listeners that strong connections, between cells, foods, and people, are at the heart of long, healthy lives.  Guest-at-a-Glance 

A talk from the 2025 Mockingbird Fall Conference in Charlottesville, VA: Anchored by Grace. Nov. 15, 2025. Property of Mockingbird Ministries, all rights reserved (www.mbird.com).

Peering into a near future where quantum science blends with AI. What are the implications for science, society and the arts?

Mars once had a magnetic field—can we bring it back? Learn what new seismic data reveals about the Red Planet's heart and whether nuclear power could restart its spin.Grab one of our new SFIA mugs and make your morning coffee a little more futuristic — available now on our Fourthwall store! https://isaac-arthur-shop.fourthwall.com/Visit our Website: http://www.isaacarthur.netJoin Nebula: https://go.nebula.tv/isaacarthurSupport us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/IsaacArthurSupport us on Subscribestar: https://www.subscribestar.com/isaac-arthurFacebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1583992725237264/Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/IsaacArthur/Twitter: https://twitter.com/Isaac_A_Arthur on Twitter and RT our future content.SFIA Discord Server: https://discord.gg/53GAShECredits:Could We Nuke Mars' Core to Restart Its SpinWritten, Produced & Narrated by: Isaac ArthurSelect imagery/video supplied by Getty Images Music by Chris ZabriskieSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Running technique coach Paul Mackinnon (The Balanced Runner) unpacks why most runners "force outcomes" (cadence, foot strike, knee drive) instead of changing the inputs that actually reshape movement. Paul explains his top-down approach—starting at the arms and torso to influence what happens below—so athletes can reduce ground contact time, improve rhythm, and shift along the continuum from rehab to performance. Across an engaging conversation in episode 374 of The Physical Performance Show, with hosts Brad Beer and Huw Darnell, Paul challenges the idea that "technique doesn't matter," arguing that how you move determines how you load. He distinguishes economy from efficiency, shows why arm swing and thoracic control set the timing for the legs, and shares practical cues to build self-awareness, symmetry, and lift—without derailing training volume. Clinicians and athletes alike will gain a clearer roadmap for translating S&C work to the road, coaching more effectively, and making durable technique change. To Follow Paul Mackinnon (The Balanced Runner): Website: TBrunner.com Instagram: @thebalancedrunner   Show Sponsor: The Rehab Mechanics offers Simple Tools and Real Results. Easy fixes for your feet with a massive impact. For 20% off all The Rehab Mechanics products. Go to www.therehabmechanics.com.au Enter discount code TPPS20 at checkout.     TIMELINE: 00:00 Forcing outcomes: the #1 running mistake 03:19 Inputs over outcomes; changing the whole system without losing training 04:32 Knee drive, ground time, and why top-down coaching works 07:28 Midline crossover: finding the true driver of the pattern 09:35 Physics → biomechanics → the individual: three coaching silos 11:11 Do mechanics matter? Why the debate misses the point 14:11 Lessons from swimming: skill, workload, and injury risk 16:27 Breaking-2 insight: efficiency beating raw physiology 18:09 Economy vs efficiency; cost per step explained 21:07 Two paths to change: full-pattern reset vs detailed top-down 23:05 New-way/old-way contrasts to build self-awareness 26:06 Feel, timing, rhythm: enlarging the athlete's "sweet spot" 32:29 What good running looks like: rhythm, symmetry, flight 36:37 Coaching language, listening, and athlete buy-in 43:22 Mental health: running as a lifeline 44:43 Humerus–femur coupling: why arms and thighs must sync 49:17 Simple buy-in: reduce ground time & ground reaction force 50:18 Paul's top three: Awareness • Symmetry • Lift 52:50 Why S&C often doesn't transfer—and how to fix it 59:35 One piece of advice: self-awareness—know where you are now 1:00:27 Listener Challenge: film your running, build your baseline   LISTEN IN AS WE DELVE INTO THE FOLLOWING: The #1 mistake runners make: forcing outcomes vs changing inputs Why technique, capacity, and rehab are independent—but interlinked—puzzle pieces The injury ↔ performance continuum and coaching before athletes break Top-down mechanics: how arms/torso shape leg action and knee drive Midline "tight-rope" running: finding the driver (ribcage, arms, rotation) Physics → biomechanics → individual: the three silos that govern change "You can't outrun physics": mechanics as applied physics, not opinion Efficiency vs economy: cost per step, flight time, ground contact time Why research lags coaching—and what to change (and not change) first Translating S&C and plyos to running: when good gym work fails to show up Coaching language, storytelling, and athlete-led awareness (new vs old way) Rhythm vs being rhythmic: symmetry, timing, and longer flight Mental health, identity, and why running is a lifeline for many athletes Three practical cues: Awareness • Symmetry • Get off the ground The week's challenge: Film your running and build an honest baseline QUOTES: "You can't outrun physics." "How you move determines how you load." "Stop forcing outcomes—change the inputs." "Awareness, symmetry, get off the ground. Every step costs—know what you're paying for."   PEOPLE MENTIONED: Ellie Salthouse – Triathlete Enda King – Hip & groin specialist (Aspetar) Rich Willy – Running biomechanics researcher Alec McKenzie, Stephen Doohig – Swimming biomechanics researchers Jenny Alcorn – Triathlon coach (historical reference)   THE TEAM: Join the The Physical Performance Show LEARNINGS membership through weekly podcasts  here: https://www.patreon.com/TPPShow Our goal is to get you back to your Physical Best.  Find out more about Telehealth Consultations and book online. Your Hosts: 

The Guilders encounter some of the “properties” of the Deadlands and the area around Skyfall, giving them a very clear picture as to why no one has been out exploring this area.https://www.recklessattack.comWant to hang out with other fans?Join us on Discord!Like the show? Support us on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/recklessattack

In this episode of the Data Center Frontier Show, we sit down with Ryan Mallory, the newly appointed CEO of Flexential, following a coordinated leadership transition in October from Chris Downie. Mallory outlines Flexential's strategic focus on the AI-driven future, positioning the company at the critical "inference edge" where enterprise CPU meets AI GPU. He breaks down the AI infrastructure boom into a clear three-stage build cycle and explains why the enterprise "killer app"—Agentic AI—plays directly into Flexential's strengths in interconnection and multi-tenant solutions. We also dive into: Power Strategy: How Flexential's modular, 36-72 MW build strategy avoids community strain and wins utility favor. Product Roadmap: The evolution to Gen 5 and Gen 6 data centers, blending air and liquid cooling for mixed-density AI workloads. The Bold Bet: Mallory's vision for the next 2-3 years, which involves "bending the physics curve" with geospatial energy and transmission to overcome terrestrial limits. Tune in for a insightful conversation on power, planning, and the future of data center infrastructure.

David Kirtley is a nuclear fusion engineer and CEO of Helion Energy, a company working on building the world's first commercial fusion power plant by 2028. Thank you for listening ❤ Check out our sponsors: https://lexfridman.com/sponsors/ep485-sc See below for timestamps, transcript, and to give feedback, submit questions, contact Lex, etc. Transcript: https://lexfridman.com/david-kirtley-transcript CONTACT LEX: Feedback - give feedback to Lex: https://lexfridman.com/survey AMA - submit questions, videos or call-in: https://lexfridman.com/ama Hiring - join our team: https://lexfridman.com/hiring Other - other ways to get in touch: https://lexfridman.com/contact EPISODE LINKS: David's X: https://x.com/dekirtley David's LinkedIn: https://bit.ly/4qX0KXp Helion: https://www.helionenergy.com/ Helion's YouTube: https://youtube.com/HelionEnergy SPONSORS: To support this podcast, check out our sponsors & get discounts: UPLIFT Desk: Standing desks and office ergonomics. Go to https://upliftdesk.com/lex Fin: AI agent for customer service. Go to https://fin.ai/lex Miro: Online collaborative whiteboard platform. Go to https://miro.com/ LMNT: Zero-sugar electrolyte drink mix. Go to https://drinkLMNT.com/lex BetterHelp: Online therapy and counseling. Go to https://betterhelp.com/lex Shopify: Sell stuff online. Go to https://shopify.com/lex OUTLINE: (00:00) - Introduction (03:00) - Sponsors, Comments, and Reflections (11:35) - Nuclear fission vs fusion (21:35) - Physics of E=mc^2 (26:50) - Is nuclear fusion safe? (32:11) - Chernobyl (38:38) - Geopolitics (40:33) - Extreme scenarios (47:28) - How nuclear fusion works (1:20:20) - Extreme temperatures (1:25:21) - Fusion control and simulation (1:37:15) - Electricity from fusion (2:11:20) - First fusion power plant in 2028 (2:18:13) - Energy needs of GPU clusters (2:28:38) - Kardashev scale (2:36:33) - Fermi Paradox PODCAST LINKS: - Podcast Website: https://lexfridman.com/podcast - Apple Podcasts: https://apple.co/2lwqZIr - Spotify: https://spoti.fi/2nEwCF8 - RSS: https://lexfridman.com/feed/podcast/ - Podcast Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrAXtmErZgOdP_8GztsuKi9nrraNbKKp4 - Clips Channel: https://www.youtube.com/lexclips

Welcome to the November 2025 Ask Me Anything episode of Mindscape! These monthly excursions are funded by Patreon supporters (who are also the ones asking the questions). We take questions asked by Patreons, whittle them down to a more manageable number -- based primarily on whether I have anything interesting to say about them, not whether the questions themselves are good -- and sometimes group them together if they are about a similar topic. Enjoy!Blog post with AMA questions and transcript: https://www.preposterousuniverse.com/podcast/2025/11/17/ama-november-2025/In the intro I mentioned a couple of my favorite TV shows of this year. Here is a more thought-out list (no particular order):Slow HorsesMurderbotThe ResidencePoker FaceSeverancePluribus and Down Cemetery Road also look promising, but too early to tell. (There are a huge number of shows I've never seen, so feel free to add recommendations.)Support Mindscape on Patreon.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

What does the future hold for computer science? Imran Mirza, associate professor of physics at Miami University, explores this through quantum computing. Dr. Imran Mirza is currently an Associate Professor in the Department of Physics at Miami University of Ohio. Before his appointment at Miami, he served as a postdoctoral fellow at the University of […]

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

Send us a textLes Johnson is a physicist, author, and space technologist ( https://www.lesjohnsonauthor.com/ ) who most recently served as the Chief Technologist at NASA's George C. Marshall Space Flight Center. Les is also the Founder of Infinite Frontiers Consulting ( https://www.lesjohnsonauthor.com/infinite-frontiers-consulting-llc.html ), an aerospace consulting firm dedicated to helping turn innovative space ventures into reality. After decades leading of missions at NASA and collaborating across the industry, Les is excited to work with clients and partners who are pushing boundaries and advancing cutting-edge space technologies.Over a distinguished career with NASA, Les played a central role in developing advanced space propulsion systems and pioneering technologies designed to expand humanity's reach beyond Earth orbit. He has led and contributed to multiple interplanetary technology demonstration missions, including work on solar sails, in-space propulsion, and deep-space exploration architectures.In addition to his NASA career, Les is an accomplished science fiction author and popular science writer, known for making complex space science accessible to broad audiences. His books—both fiction and nonfiction—explore the scientific and philosophical dimensions of humanity's future in space ( https://www.amazon.com/stores/Les-Johnson/author/B002OUOYZQ?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true ) . A frequent public speaker and advocate for space exploration, Les continues to inspire curiosity and innovation in the next generation of scientists and engineers.Les holds a Master's degree in Physics from Vanderbuilt and a Bachelor's degree in Physics from Transylvania University, where he also conducted research in plasma and materials science. His academic foundation has informed his long-standing commitment to bridging theoretical science with practical space engineering.#LesJohnson #NASA #GeorgeCMarshallSpaceFlightCenter #VanderbiltUniversity #StrategicDefenseInitiative #GoldenDome #SpaceBasedHighEnergyLasers #ParticleBeamWeapons #MissileDefense #GeneralResearchCorporation#PropulsiveSmallExpendableDeployerSystem #SolarSail #CubeSat #NearEarthAsteroidScout #InterstellarTravel #Mars #ProximaCentauri #CrewHealth #LifeSupport #PlanetarySunshades #Geoengineering #Astrobiology #STEM #Innovation #Science #Technology #Research #ProgressPotentialAndPossibilities #IraPastor #Podcast #Podcaster #Podcasting #ViralPodcastSupport the show

"There is one and only one business. Everybody's in the exact same business. And that unique business is the manufacturing and delivery of delight." Philippe Bouissou Top Five Tips To Grow Your Business1.  Aligning the pain of your customer with your business's claim2.  Align your message with customer perception 3.  Make buying frictionless 4.  Expected Delight and Offering (what the business delivers) 5.  Internal team alignment TIME STAMP SUMMARY01:30  Growth is the only way to create sustainable shareholder value.03:51   Difference is crucial for standing out in a competitive market.12:10   Clear expectations and ensure they are met or exceeded to maintain customer satisfaction.17:10   Internal alignment for external success Where to find Philippe?Website                         https://philippebouissou.com/ LinkedIn                        https://www.linkedin.com/in/phbouissou  Philippe Bouissou Bio Dr. Philippe Bouissou is a name that resonates through the heart of Silicon Valley. For over three decades, he has danced on the cutting edge, donning the hats of an entrepreneur, a CEO, and venture capitalist. Philippe has served on the boards of 23 companies. He is a growth expert and bestselling author of Aligning the Dots. He pioneered a revolutionary methodology called A4 Precision Alignment™ that's lighting the fires of faster, sustainable revenue growth across the business world. It is brilliantly illuminated in his landmark TED talk, The Secret to Grow Any Business, that received over one million views.Philippe's groundbreaking work and innovative concept of market alignment is encapsulated in Blue Dots Partners, LLC, the firm he founded in 2014 in Palo Alto, California. Philippe and his team of highly accomplished CEOs and business builders diligently apply the Blue Dots data-driven analytical methodology to advise CEOs on how to grow their business and soar above their competitors across many industries. Philippe's groundbreaking work has earned him a spot on the cover of The Top 100 Innovators and Entrepreneurs magazine in 2024.Philippe's storied career includes launching and scaling Apple's eCommerce business from zero to $350 million, under Steve Jobs. He steered over 240 management consulting projects. As a venture capitalist, he invested $44 million generating double-digit cash-on-cash returns. With an illustrious background that boasts a BS in Mathematics, an MS in Physics, and a PhD in non-linear physics and chaos theory from the prestigious École Normale Supérieure in Paris, Philippe brings a scientific precision to the business world

In this episode of BioTalk, CEO Gerard Eldering explains how Perfusion Medical is addressing a problem that trauma physicians and military medics have been struggling with for decades: capillary compression.  Perfusion Medical is developing a drug aimed at treating hemorrhagic shock and other ischemic conditions. PM‑208 is a novel IV therapeutic designed to restore capillary blood flow, resolve ischemia, and protect vital organs. The team has advanced this work with $19 million in Department of Defense funding. He describes the scale of the unmet need, why PM‑208 is both organ- and disease‑agnostic, and how its simple formulation and strong safety profile position it for broad medical use. Eldering also reflects on the company's path through the BioHealth Capital Region Crab Trap Competition. After a second‑place finish a few years earlier, Perfusion Medical returned to the stage and won the 2025 competition. He shares what that experience has meant for the team and why building the company in the BioHealth Capital Region—particularly from a Virginia base—has been a strategic advantage. The conversation moves through the role of early federal funding and programs like SBIR/STTR in de‑risking breakthrough therapies, and how university research partnerships have strengthened PM‑208's development. Eldering highlights how public‑private collaboration has shaped the company's progress and made it possible to push a complex medical solution toward patients more quickly.   Editing and post-production work for this episode was provided by The Podcast Consultant - https://thepodcastconsultant.com/0   About Gerard Eldering Gerard Eldering is the CEO of Perfusion Medical and a nationally recognized expert in technology transfer and venture formation. Since becoming an entrepreneur in 2007, he has helped launch more than a dozen startups, raised more than $15 million in seed funding, and led the turnaround and sale of a technology consulting firm. Before founding Perfusion Medical, he built and led The MITRE Corporation's Technology Transfer Office. Eldering is a U.S. Air Force veteran who served as a helicopter pilot and instructor. He holds a B.A. in Physics, an M.B.A., and is a registered patent agent.

The Time Riders: Part 8 A Date With Death. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Into the pit. Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers, who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins, both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He walked ahead of her, his face grave. Domitia wore a simple white tunic now, but all other signs of her former life were gone. Her magnificent braids were undone, and her brown hair hung down her back shamefully. The colors she'd been allowed to wear were missing. In times past, disgraced Virgins had been excoriated, possibly just beaten with a rod, but now, in the height of mighty Rome's power, the punishment was death, for endangering the city. But no one was insane enough to spill the blood of a Vestal Virgin, disgraced or not, so her execution was not so direct. She would be sent underground into a small chamber, with a stock of food and supplies, and locked in there until she starved to death, or succumbed to sickness. They weren't killing her, per se; she was merely shunned until she died. Such was the way of Imperial Rome. Her condemnation and pronouncement of her fate had already been declared, at the beginning of this long walk, meant to be a show of penitence before the face of all Rome. And as humiliated and crushed as she was, her foremost thought was about Bonosus, and his magnificent cock. Even now, being led through the streets, her cunt was wet and ached to feel him buried inside her. Before she knew it, they had arrived at their destination, a small area in the north of the city, with a plot dug into the ground. Stopping at its edge, she looked down inside; the walls were lined with wood, probably to prevent a collapse, and there seemed to be a small stool and a cot within. She heard hysterical sobbing from nearby, and turned her head to see her mother, her birth mother, Pompeneia, weeping from behind the barricade of guards and calling out to her. Domitia's heart ached for a moment, but then she turned her gaze back to the den prepared for her. Her fate was sealed. She glanced over to look at her sister Vestals, but they refused to look at her, staring ahead resolutely. She could see tears in dear Silla's eyes, though; she had hurt the Sisterhood badly, and this was how she was to pay for it. So be it. With all the dignity she could muster, Domitia swallowed her fear and stepped forward, turning and climbing down the ladder, descending roughly ten feet until she reached the earthen floor. There were small candles burning on some stone surfaces, allowing for dim light. She looked upward, and the last thing she saw was the face of the Pontifex Maximus looking down at her, his expression unreadable, before a heavy door was slammed down and locked, cutting off all light and all sound from above. She shuddered at the sound, her stomach twisting in knots. She knew that there was no way out. The door would be weighted, and guards set outside for weeks, to prevent anyone from trying to rescue her. Despite her fear, she looked around, noting the small amount of food supplies left for her, and a small, narrow hole dug in one corner where she was to relieve herself. It wouldn't do to have a Vestal Virgin stinking of shit, even a disgraced one, and even in death. The silence was almost terrifying. She slumped into the small chair left for her, shivering and biting her lip as she felt that her cunt was still wet, the sticky lips parting slightly as she spread her legs. Thoughts of Bonosus returned to her, and she couldn't help but reach down beneath her tunic and begin rubbing her fingers over herself. The fear she felt melted away as she tickled her throbbing clit and teased her warm nether lips. Domitia closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. If she was to die in this hateful place, it would be while cumming, thinking of that magnificent cock, spurting inside her one last time; The wall opposite her creaked and opened, the stout wooden boards pulling away. Domitia almost yelped in shock, but she didn't stop playing with herself. She stared in astonishment as a tall blonde woman came inside, carrying a torch. Following her was Nanu, a slave-girl that Domitia would have sworn belonged to her parents. "Well, hello, Domitia," the blonde woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Lady Aurora Horatia, Bonosus' mistress. Are you ready to get out of here?" Domitia nodded, but then paused, reconsidering as her fingers plunged in and out of her molten cunt. "Can you; give me just a moment here?" the former Virgin asked sheepishly. Into the Arena. Mark winced and squinted as the great gate opened, allowing light to flood into the dark tunnel. The grinding and heaving of the gears that moved the iron-reinforced barriers echoed loudly, and his heart pounded in anxiety. He was almost hyperventilating, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. Maybe taking the adrenalin tab he'd finally found stashed behind a loose brick wasn't such a good idea. And no instructions, either. He reminded himself to punch himself in the face when he saw himself again. Hey, at least he knew he survived. He felt himself shoved roughly out into the arena, looking around in bewilderment as tens of thousands of people all shouted and jeered at him. Part of the huge stadium was cast into shadow because of the giant canvas awning that covered a full third of its seating and the arena in the center. He thought it was called the Velarium, but he wasn't sure. The roaring noise of the crowds hurt his ears, and he felt dizzy. The tab's effects apparently hadn't evened out in him yet. Maybe he should have taken it earlier? Wearing his itchy burlap loincloth, a rope belt, sandals and nothing else, Mark wandered slowly toward the center of the sandy field, his cudgel in hand. The echoing sounds of the crowd were maddening, and he felt almost dizzy. What was the purpose of this damn tab, anyway? Guards approached him. His urge was to run, but where would he go? Trembling, he stood his ground and waited for them. One of them grabbed him roughly and spun him about to face something, shoving him to one knee. Mark gasped, but then looked up and paused. On the other side of the giant stadium, sitting in a shaded box, was a man wearing purple, surrounded by guards and other dignitaries. It had to be the Emperor. The most powerful man in the world. If only he knew which one it was. Maybe he could've gotten an autograph. He chuckled bitterly at his joke, but the guard holding him told him to shut up and slapped him across the back of the head. Mark's eyes snapped open and fury flared through him. He surged to his feet and his shoulder-block knocked the guard backwards, to the astonishment of the audience. The guard and another one nearby drew their weapons and were about to kill him, when trumpets blared from all around the perimeter of the Colosseum. Mark looked around warily, seeing the reaction of the crowds as the two guards withdrew. Drums sounded out now, and more trumpets. He looked over at the emperor, his eyes going wide as he noticed a familiar, stunning blonde woman in a seat next to him and watching Mark with a smirk. Kneeling beside her was Nanu. "Jesus, Becky, there's a million people in Rome; how many did you fuck?" he muttered, scowling. He heard the gates clanking open again and spun to face them, his heart racing again. From the dark tunnel strode a stout, bald man wearing leather armour on his shoulder and a metal-studded skirt, carrying a shield and wielding a small axe. "What is this, fetish night at the Colosseum?" Mark complained loudly as the man began to run toward him. Mark braced himself, watching warily. His earlier anxiety was being replaced by anger, and a desire to either flee or fight. He'd just trust to his adrenalin and hope that his future self knew what the Hell he was doing. The gladiator ran up and swung at Mark, who ducked and came up behind his foe. Before the man could turn, Mark struck him across the back of the head with his cudgel. The man crashed to the ground face-first. The crowd was yelling in outrage and astonishment. Apparently, that wasn't supposed to happen. The man showed no signs of rising, merely stirring feebly and groaning, a huge goose egg rising on the back of his head. Hastily, Mark leaned down and pulled the round wooden shield off the man's arm and pried the axe from his grip. He stood up, trying to control his breathing. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He looked around, making sure no one was approaching him from any other direction, but nobody seemed to be forthcoming. Where was his next foe? It dawned on him that he hadn't been expected to last beyond this first fight. They were probably scrambling to figure out what to do next. Doubtless they'd be finding another gladiator to throw at him. He chanced a glance up at Becky, but she sat still, simply watching him. He didn't blame her; she was supposed to have turned on him, after all. He did notice that she was keeping one leg crossed over the other and bouncing her thighs subtly. Maybe the hormones weren't completely out of her system yet. Or it could have just been normal horny Becky. Who knew at this point? A few seconds later, the gates on another section of the concave wall that surrounded him opened slowly, and out strode a tall man, wearing only a loincloth like himself and greaves, but carrying a weighted net in one hand, and a trident in the other. "Trident!" Mark exclaimed to himself, remembering. "That's what those fucking things are called! Now I can; Hey!" Mark had gotten distracted and only barely jumped out of the way of the retiarius, who thrust his trident, trying to skewer his foe. Mark angrily struck at the man's head with his axe, but he raised the haft of the weapon to block and Mark's axe broke on it. The crowd cheered wildly as it saw what happened. Mark stared dumbly at the splintered handle of his weapon, the iron head missing entirely, having spun off to land in the dust several inconvenient feet away. "What the shit?" Mark shouted angrily as he dodged another attack, keeping his shield between himself and his enemy. The trident's tines glanced off the face of his shield, coming perilously close to ripping open his side. "You mean I can't kill anyone? I'm timelocked from killing someone, even if they're trying to kill me?" He dodged again and scrambled for his cudgel, lying next to the first man he'd knocked unconscious. The man he was fighting was quick, though, and lunged in, jamming his weapon forward and trying to impale Mark through his stomach with it. Mark blocked with the shield, shuddering in panic as he felt the tines burst through the wood and punch out the back side, dangerously close to his belly. But the trident was caught now, and now the two men wrestled back and forth desperately, with the retiarius trying to free his weapon and Mark doing everything he could to prevent that exact thing. Suddenly he realized that he was doing exactly the wrong thing, and simply let go of his shield. The gladiator now held his trident awkwardly, weighed down as it was by the shield embedded on it, and with no safe recourse to get it back. He flailed at Mark with the weighted edges of his net, threatening to break smaller bones if he got in too close. Mark dashed for the cudgel again, and this time his opponent couldn't quickly follow him. Mark picked it up and tried putting the man on the defensive, skirting around him, looking for an opening to strike. The man glared at him balefully, swinging the net if Mark got too close. He's not armored and he can't use his weapon; Mark reminded himself. He flung his cudgel at the gladiator's face and surged in while the man was trying to block the unexpected projectile. His trident was weighted down with Mark's shield, so he was using the net frantically to avoid being struck. Mark plowed into the man and took him down to the ground, using his advantage in height and weight. His foe wheezed as he landed hard on his back, beginning to thrash as Mark straddled his chest and pummeled at him. A lucky punch got through and Mark snapped his foe's head to the side with a right across the jaw. He went to sleep. The crowds were shouting again angrily as Mark stood, recovering his stupid club and taking the man's net, since the shield was wrecked, and the trident was no use since he apparently wasn't allowed to kill anyone. How did time lock know, anyway? He bent over, trying to control his breathing and his pulse. His head was spinning again from the anxiety. What the Hell was his future self thinking, leaving that damn tab to use? What sort of advantage and futuristic superpower was panic? You're pumping adrenalin; it makes runners faster, it makes them run longer; it makes people stronger in a crisis; He opened his eyes and stood, turning around and looking at the thousands upon thousands of people who hated him. Fuck those people. He turned and looked at the emperor and held the weighted net in the air, scowling at the sovereign. "That all you got, asshole?" he shouted, feeling himself get angrier and more aggressive with every moment. Becky could barely hear what Mark was yelling over the noise of the crowds, but she shifted somewhat uncomfortably when she felt the mood of the man next to her darken. "So that's how he wants to play it, hmm?" muttered the emperor, resting his cheek against his hand. "Uppity thing, this boy of yours, Lady Horatia." "Oh, he is no longer mine, great emperor; this behavior, reprehensible as it might be, is unknown to me. Please dispose of the upstart as you see fit," Becky replied, knowing better than to be perceived as defending Mark. "You can count on that, my lady;” he replied, nodding absently as he made some vague motion to a signaler. "If you will excuse me, sire, I must depart for a moment," Becky said, trying to not sound urgent. The emperor looked at her quizzically for a moment: "You would miss his doom?" She made a show of blushing: "His life and death mean nothing to me now, but all this excitement has undone me, sire. I must go and relieve myself, because it wouldn't do to piss myself in your presence." "Very well, then," he said, nodding. "But try to be back soon." Becky stood and bowed before exiting the emperor's spectator box, taking Nanu with her, pulling her along by the wrist. "My lady, is now a good time to see to such functions?" asked the Egyptian girl as she followed the blonde woman. "Is Bonosus not in great danger? I thought you meant to rescue him." "I can't rescue him sitting next to that pompous ass, now can I?" Becky hissed as she strode down one of the hallways. "And keep your voice down; I don't want people to know what we're doing." "Sorry, mistress," Nanu replied, blushing. She allowed herself to be dragged along for several seconds before asking her next question. "What are we doing, exactly?" "You'll see soon enough," Becky said grimly, her blue eyes flashing as she pushed through the throngs of people in the hallways that ran around the length of the Colosseum. "I hope you wore your cock-sucking lips today;” The huge man lumbered towards Mark; he was well over half a foot taller than Mark, and a whole lot heavier. Beneath his layer of fat, he was obviously muscular and very strong. He carried a shield in one hand, a wicked sword in the other. His loincloth was made of tough leather, covered in metal studs. His wide belt was also braced with metal. His right arm was protected from shoulder to wrist by a cauldron and gleaming steel plates. On his head was an intimidating helmet, the face mask looking like something out of "Mad Max: Fury Road," with a peaked top that sported what looked like a curved metal blade or sail. It looked like he was wearing a can opener on his head. "Fuck;” Mark whined to himself as he stood his ground, trying to figure out how he was going to keep from getting killed. He held his cudgel and his net, trying to look threatening, but the gorilla coming at him didn't seem to care. He jumped out of the way as the Samnite slashed with his sword. He tried to move in, but was sent flying backwards when the gladiator suddenly slammed the front of his shield into him. Landing on his back, Mark only had a split second to roll out of the way as the point of his foe's sword drove down into the dirt where'd he'd only just been. He kicked at the man's leg, but it held, and he scrambled away, looking to put some distance between them. "Hey, Jason Voorhies!" he called out, waving his club in the air. "Over here, candy-ass!" The gladiator turned his head to look at him while trying to wrench his blade from the hard-packed earth. He finally did so and stood upright, rolling his shoulders and striding forward again. He slashed with his blade, but Mark dodged once again and then threw his net over his foe. The Samnite got caught in it, but didn't go down, trying angrily to remove it. Mark jumped on his back and began hammering away with his stupid little club. The giant staggered about, flailing wildly to dislodge his smaller foe. The jeering from the crowd was punctuated with increasing amounts of laughter at this ridiculous spectacle. Mark hung on for dear life with one arm wrapped around the man, his other hand whacking away at the foe's helmet. But his own net was preventing the blows from being fully effective, despite the metallic ringing of his strikes. Unable to reach the pest on his back or use his weapons, the huge man simply fell backwards, hoping to crush Mark. It wasn't graceful, and it wasn't pretty, but it did stun Mark long enough to stop him from hitting his foe with his cudgel. "Oh fuck;” Mark wheezed as the Samnite rolled off him and struggled to get up while removing the netting. Mark slowly crawled away, shaking his head to stop the world from spinning. The jellied tissue that was once his lungs was on fire, and strained to get oxygen circulating through him. He heard his foe growl in frustration, and then he felt himself getting grabbed by the scruff of the neck and the back of his loincloth before being hauled completely off the ground; The crowd went wild as the gladiator threw Bonosus bodily to the ground, as if trying to crush his bones with the impact. He picked him up again and dashed him to the hard-packed earth, having given up on removing the net. Mark protected himself from the slams as best he could, but it wasn't helping much, given the strength of the man who was mauling him. The fourth time getting slammed to the ground was about Mark's limit, and the world had become nonsense around him; everything sounded like it was being played in drunken slow motion. His vision swam, and he really just wanted to take a damn nap. He shook his head trying to clear it, remembering that Becky had bought him time, so he'd best not waste it getting rag-dolled by this shit stain. While the Samnite was reaching down for him, Mark managed to roll onto his back and kicked up, hard, between the gladiator's legs. His foot found the man's crotch, and while the force of the blow was lessened by the net's interference, his foe still groaned, and his knees bent. Mark kicked again, and then once more, having finally staggered his foe. The man sank to his knees, holding his crotch. Mark couldn't see his face, but he was obviously in a great deal of pain. Mark staggered to his feet, ignoring the crowd's jeers and screams, focusing only on his foe. The gladiator was now protecting his crotch with his hands, so Mark couldn't kick him there, so he slammed the bottom of his foot into the larger man's chest, knocking him on his back, where he lay moaning. Mark stamped on his crotch for good measure. "Stop, dammit!" wailed the man. "Quit kicking me in the cock!" "Fuck you!" Mark spat, scowling. His chest was on fire and his entire body throbbed in pain. "You were trying to kill me, fuckface! Why should I give a shit what you think?" "I'll stop, I'll stop!" the man pleaded, writhing under the net and totally at Mark's mercy. "Just don't wreck my cock, I was gonna fuck tonight!" "Yeah, right," Mark sneered. "Who were you gonna fuck?" Mark spun as he heard an ululating war cry, and his eyes widened as he saw a woman running toward him, carrying a whip in one hand and a sword in the other. Her spiked hair was wet with blue woad paste, and her eyes were mad with battle lust. "Her;” the Samnite indicated. Becky and Nanu were both on their knees, mouths bobbing back and forth on the cocks of the men they had leaning back against the wall, groaning and pumping their hips. Neither of the men could believe their luck; they thought this would be another boring day for measly pay. From up here, they couldn't even see the action down in the arena well. Sulus and Catullus, two former merchant marines, were charged with keeping the Velarium in place during the spectacles. Their extensive experience with canvas sails made them ideal for this tedious but essential work. At least, that's what they were told, despite the thirty asses a day they received proclaiming otherwise. So imagine their good fortune and delight when this patrician woman and her slave-girl happened to wander on up, espy the two men, and offer to suck their cocks, without even charging them anything! Talk about Saturnalia in Quintilis! Nanu moaned as she swirled her tongue around the head of the cock she was sucking on, holding it by the base of the shaft, her eyes closed. This seemed like an odd time to be doing something like this, but Lady Aurora had been quite firm that it was part of the plan. So be it. Besides, that strange little patch her new mistress had affixed to the skin under her arm was making her so horny right now. Kneeling beside the slave, Becky's free hand reached out and took hold of Nanu's, giving it a squeeze. They continued pushing their wet mouths along the lengths of the throbbing shafts, both girls getting wetter and more aroused with each passing moment. Nanu pulled her mouth off the cock for a moment, sucking in air and breathing heavily as she massaged it with her tiny hand. Her face was flushed as she looked over at her new mistress, her eyes glazed with desire. Becky nodded her assent. Nanu stood quickly and lifted the long trails of her garment, exposing her ass and cunt to the man she'd been servicing. She turned around and leaned back against him, squirming her ass against his cock, making him moan loudly. With great need, she grabbed hold of his tool and speared herself down on it, sighing loudly before beginning to wiggle back and forth on him, shivering as he slid in and out of her. Becky rose to her feet soon after, moving around to face Nanu and leaning forward, with her hands on the slave-girl's shoulders and looking into her eyes. The marine got behind Becky and gripped her hips, pushing inside her. Becky moaned into Nanu's mouth as she kissed her, their tongues tangling hungrily while their tits squirmed and rubbed together. The men held tight and fucked the two women as hard as they could, looking to cum as quickly as possible. Hips smacked against asses and moans grew louder. Becky and Nanu now panted through an open-mouthed kiss, their hands groping one another in need. The Egyptian girl pressed back as hard as she could on the cock she was impaled on, while Becky ground in eager circles, yearning for release. Seconds later they were wailing into one another's mouths, shuddering in ecstasy as the men groaned and began pumping cum inside their wanton pussies. Becky and Nanu were relentless, milking the men for all they were worth, until they slumped to the stone floor, almost insensate from the orgasms these strange women had given them. Straddling the marines now, and facing into one another, Becky and Nanu continued kissing and fondling, even as they moved slowly up and down on the rigid poles they'd been fucking. "Umm, mistress;” Nanu said dreamily, lost in Becky's blue eyes. "I know, my love," Becky murmured, giving Nanu many light kisses on the lips, as if she was unable to help herself. "But we must; smooch; get ready to; do our part; smooch; and rescue Mark;” Nanu pulled back from the kiss and looked up in confusion. "Mark?" "Bonosus," Becky corrected herself, waving it off. "I'll explain later. Now help me get ready;” The crowd was howling with laughter as Mark ran around the arena in a panic, chased by the gladiatrix, who cracked her whip at him, screeching for him to get his ass back there so she could kick it. Mark didn't need oppositional defiance disorder to ignore her demands. The tip of that whip was cracking awfully close behind him. The Samnite he'd downed earlier grunted and flopped down again as Mark stamped on his back while running over him. "Don't try to get up, asshole, you promised!" Mark shouted angrily. "If you do, I don't care if she's trying to kill me, I'll come over there and kick you in the balls so hard you'll be spitting them out!" "Okay! Okay!" the man shouted back, lying on his stomach and waiting. "But I hope she catches you and rips your skin off to wear as a cloak!" "Oh, go sit on a Doric column!" Mark grumbled, deking to the left to try to throw her off. At this point, the crowd was chanting something, what he could only Assume Was Her Name "Achilleia! Achilleia!" "What is that, Latin for Psycho Hose-Beast?" Mark complained loudly, noticing that he had not gained any ground on his foe. He only had the stupid cudgel, whereas she had a wicked sword and a goddam whip. He had the distinct impression he couldn't tire her; she had the look of a woman on a murder mission; her eyes were wild with bloodlust, the scream escaping her lips singing of his gory doom. "She's the greatest female gladiator in Rome!" called out the Samnite, still watching from his confines beneath the net. "She's been more than a match for many men who have fought her!" "Singing my praises doesn't get you more cunt than normal, Rullus!" Achilleia snapped, still chasing her quarry. Gods, this slave could run! Pity she had to kill him, he was well-built and had a great ass! She pressed harder, now swiping with her sword, since using her whip slowed her down some. Like most gladiators, she was wearing little armour, only leather greaves, a leather loincloth, an abbreviated leather cuirass that exposed her midriff but held her tits in place, and a leather cauldron and brace on one arm. A steel fillet around her forehead glittered with glass beads, off-setting her wild blue death-hawk hair. She whooped in triumph as the tip of her sword tore open the back of his loincloth and it fell away, leaving Mark completely exposed as he fled for his life. The crowd was laughing hysterically again. "Dammit, I hate freeballing when I'm running!" he shouted angrily, grimacing as his balls slapped around his thighs. "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!" "Stop running then, coward!" Achilleia taunted, enjoying the view even as she tried to kill him. "I only offer the bliss of death! One red kiss of my blade across your throat, slave, and you; Off!" Done with running, Mark stopped very suddenly and braced himself, hunkering down so that Achilleia plowed into him, completely unprepared. She staggered backward and Mark whirled and grappled onto her, preventing her from using her weapons. The gladiatrix snarled and tried to knee him in the crotch, but he kept his legs judiciously in the way. They tottered and staggered about, vying for control, until they tripped over the Samnite, who was helpless to avoid them. "Oh Fuck!" he wheezed as they landed on him and then rolled off, still tussling. "Welcome to my world, dickface!" Mark shouted back at him, still wrestling with Achilleia, who meant to murder him repeatedly. Out of desperation, and with the effects of the tab still coursing through his blood, he picked her up bodily and threw her to the ground, her sword clattering away. He dropped to his knees instantly, smacking her in the face with his scrotum. "Teabag!" he shouted before whirling around and grappling onto her, trying to subdue her. He hated the thought of punching a woman, but she was trying to eviscerate him, so an exception might be in order. Achilleia was a veteran of the gladiator pits, however, and not so easily dealt with. She recovered and thrashed around, screeching and trying to claw her foe's eyes out. He swatted the whip from her hands before she could strike him with it. Mark found her increasingly difficult to manage, using his weight on top of her body to keep her in place. That plan went south, however, when she wrapped her legs around his waist and began rocking back and forth, until she was on top. They rolled around in the dust while the crowd went insane. Mark had her arms gripped tightly, out to the sides, which forced her body down closer to his. The wild look in her eyes chilled his blood, and she tried to bite his neck repeatedly, to tear his throat out. He countered frantically by using his head to shove hers away from his tender skin, and the result must have looked ridiculous, the two of them pushing and sparring with their heads. "Gurr, let; me; kill; you!" Achilleia hissed, struggling to maintain her balance over her stronger foe. "I'll make it quick, I promise!" "It'll feel good, I promise!" Mark sneered, butting the side of her head to knock it away. "Why would I make this easy for you?" "Gonna; rip you; a new;” Achilleia strained, pushing down harder. She then paused, her eyes going wide with shock. "What; gods, do you have a hard-on?" Mark used the momentary pause to roll her over, her arms pinned beside her head. Achilleia's eyes were still wide as she goggled up at him. Unfortunately, yes, he was hard again. Either he was developing some sort of danger fetish, or the hormones weren't quite as out of his system as he thought. They struggled and thrashed, with the look of shock on Achilleia's face becoming one of irritation, then a weird determination. She wasn't fighting about so much, and she seemed to be pushing with her hips, almost pumping with them. She glared and bit her lip. The roaring of the crowds was slowly abating as they watched the proceedings on the arena floor. What was happening? Seconds ago, the gladiatrix had been trying to kill the slave, now they were; what were they doing? Mark kept her pinned beneath him, and couldn't help but join her in squirming as they glared into one another's eyes. Achilleia was undulating her hips now, her upper body virtually motionless. Mark grimaced at the feel of the toughened leather around her middle grinding on his hard-on. "Dammit;” Achilleia growled. "Let go of my god-rotting hand so I can move my loincloth!" Mark took a chance and let go of one of her hands. It flashed down and pulled aside the leather garment before taking hold of his hard cock and guiding it to her entrance. Without another thought, Mark pushed down, deep inside her. Achilleia wailed loudly and wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling him in deeper still. The entire Colosseum throng had gone silent as the spectators stared, stunned by what they were witnessing. All that could be heard, echoing through the giant stadium, was Achilleia's cries of pleasure. Was this really happening? "Achilleia? What the Hell?" the Samnite yelled in outrage, his girlfriend getting fucked by Rome's most hated slave mere feet away from him. "Shut up, Rullus, he's fucking huge!" Achilleia shouted back, pumping her hips wildly against Mark. The gladiator did as he was told and simply sulked, turning his head to look elsewhere. The emperor watched out stonily, not at all impressed with the turn of events his grand spectacle for the people had taken. He'd heard of the blasphemy this upstart slave had committed, and this was supposed to be a damnation of a great sin. Now it was another blasphemy. And where the Hell was Lady Aurora? He napped his fingers and one of his servants leaned in close, to see what his master wanted. "Have them all killed;” growled the emperor, determined to save face somehow. Mark thrust harder and harder, while Achilleia yelped and bucked beneath him, holding onto his back and with her legs still wrapped around his back. Nearby, Rullus was resting his helmeted head on his hand and rapping his fingers against the packed earth, trying to look bored. Not difficult for a man tangled inside a net. "Any time, you two;” he grumbled. "Oh, cram it, Linzer-head," Mark spat. "Say one more thing and I'll fuck her ass next!" "Oh!" Achilleia wailed, grinding and thrusting against Mark desperately. "I'm gonna; I ‘ Then she seized up and pushed up with all her strength, clenching her teeth so hard they might have cracked. As Rome watched on in stunned silence, the gladiatrix shrieked to the gods and came, hard. Mark shuddered and groaned, pumping profuse amounts of cum deep inside her clenching cunt. He thrust madly, emptying himself into her. Finally, they were both spent. Achilleia lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling, skin glistening with sweat. Mark, exhausted, rested his forehead against her shoulder, too tired to defend himself if she tried to kill him now. Fortunately, his death was the farthest thing from her mind. Seconds of silence passed, before the thousands of spectators in the stands erupted into a wave of cheers and catcalls. Mark smiled and chuckled tiredly. "That can't be good;” he mused. "Nope," she agreed, sighing and biting on a knuckle as the last of the orgasm pulsed through her. "After that, they're certainly going to kill us. All of us. It doesn't matter; I would have died in the arena eventually. At least this way, I died with a cock in me and cumming hard." "Don't be so certain about that;” Mark replied, finally looking up and seeing all the gates opening and dozens of legionaries rushing toward them, spears at the ready. "Ah, I don't like this!" Nanu whined as she shimmied out along one of the corbels that held the vast awning in place. She held on like grim death as she edged forward, a small but sharp knife in one hand. "You can do it, my love," Becky said encouragingly, watching from their original position where they'd fucked the two marines. Both men were still snoozing, but she had tied their hands and feet for extra security. She would have done Nanu's job herself, but she was taller and heavier than the Egyptian girl, who stood a much better chance of succeeding than she did without snapping the braces or corbels. "Look straight ahead and ignore the sounds below." So of course, Nanu looked down. "He's fucking!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "He's fucking the gladiatrix that's supposed to be killing him! I may kill him! He doesn't need saving, I do!" "Nanu, focus!" Becky insisted. "Get to your position and await my signal." "Yes, mistress;” sighed the slave-girl sullenly. Once in position, Nanu held on tight, trying not to think about the dizzying heights she was suspended from. Everyone seemed like ants far below her. Except for Bonosus and his whore of a gladiator; she could see them very clearly, to the place where she could make out his throbbing cock as it thrust in and out of her unworthy cunt. He had a lot of explaining to do when this was over. The crowd was watching in stunned silence, unable to believe what they were seeing. But then Becky and Nanu heard the gladiatrix wailing as she came. Bonosus' groans of pleasure burned in Nanu's ears, while Becky just rolled her eyes, sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd; they'd come for blood and been rewarded with live pornography! Nanu was scowling still, when she noticed the gates opening and legionaries pouring out of them, converging on the five figures in the center of the arena. "Mistress;” Nanu said nervously, her anxiety for Bonosus' well-being overcoming her jealousy. "Now, Nanu!" Becky yelled, making sure her slave could hear her. She was already working frantically to cut through the thick ropes in one of the giant pulleys that moved the Velarium into position. Nanu, meanwhile, was sawing at the edge of the rope that held the corbel she was on in place. She gritted her teeth as she watched the steel knife bite through the thick fiber cable until finally it snapped free. The rope whipped about as it unraveled, causing a cascade of loosening canvas across the broad length of the famed awning. Becky, meanwhile, finished cutting through the rope in the giant pulley she'd selected, dodging hastily as it snapped and flailed about before spinning away. The giant canvas sheets comprising the Velarium buckled and gave way, while the corbels and rope masts retracted rapidly. "Mistress!" Nanu keened, holding on like grim death as the corbel she was on, no longer held in place by the giant ropes, snapped back toward the solid stone walls of the Colosseum. "Jump, Nanu!" Becky called out, standing on the edge of the wall and holding her arms out. "I'll catch you! Trust mistress!" Nanu squeezed her eyes shut and jumped; Becky wheezed as she caught the flying girl, tumbling to the floor with her and holding her tight. Nanu was shivering in her grasp, so Becky just held her for a few seconds and caressed her raven hair. The slave-girl looked up at her savior and nodded, so Becky stood them up, listening to the shrieks of panic as the Velarium floated down relentlessly. "Teamwork, Nanu!" she said excitedly as they stood. "Let's see what happens next!" In the Arena. Mark faced one direction warily, while Rullus and Achilleia stood behind him, squaring off against other legionaries who were closing in. The original gladiator and the retiarius were also conscious and now stood with them, brandishing what weapons they could. Mark felt silly sporting only his cudgel, but it seemed dumb to not let the gladiators have the weapons they were trained with. His cock was still hard, and leaking cum from the tip. He saw Achilleia slowly turning her head to look down at it longingly. "Eyes front, Achilleia!" he snapped, not in the mood to die. She returned to glaring balefully at the encroaching soldiers. There must have been a hundred of the legionaries. That was twenty-to-one odds. He decided to not mention that to his enemies-turned-allies, since he wasn't sure if they understood ratios in any event. If their math was as poor as their hygiene, why bother? "When I thought I'd die in the emperor's sight, this isn't how I pictured it," Rullus growled, brandishing his sword. "I hadn't envisioned dying for that cocksucker at all," Achilleia replied, spitting in contempt at the foes in front of her. "Damned if I'm gonna give him the satisfaction of a clean kill. People will remember this day, to his embarrassment!" The legionaries advanced, the circle tightening. They were protected by their large scutum body shields, and their spears pointed threateningly at the little rebel group. Mark wasn't sure what good he would do here, since he was armed with a club smaller than his dick, and he was the only untrained gladiator. But then he noticed rippling movement above, looked up and grinned. The velarium became dislodged from its moorings and like a vast sail or flag, began floating down over the stadium. People noticed, began screeching in panic, and stampeding. "Right on, Becks;” he said with satisfaction as his day began to look up. The emperor looked up, scowling as he saw the giant canvas sheet descending, fluttering menacingly as it enveloped the upper levels of seating. Panic ensued, with people scampering around pell-mell, trying to escape. "I really hate the gods;” he thought darkly as the canvas touched down around him and everything went to shit. Becky, standing on the edge of the wall and looking down over the chaos and mayhem she had caused, with tens of thousands thrown into panic, cackled gaily and clapped her hands before yanking down her top to expose her tits and holding her arms wide and yelling loudly across her kingdom of madness. "Are you not entertained?" she shouted, reveling in her triumph. God, she'd always wanted to use that line. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Mark shouted as he and his new allies raced down the hallway, shooing everyone in front of him. "Faster, if you wanna live!" The legionaries had forgotten all about the little group of rebels once the madness ensued, racing toward the emperor to rescue him. Mark used the opportunity to escape, bringing his former foes with him. He wasn't terribly interested in seeing them die, and they might prove very useful in getting out of here in one piece. Rullus had led them through a small, little-known door in the wall of the arena, one used generally only by pit masters to monitor the proceedings. His titan frame barely fit in it, but he led the way dutifully. "Where are we going?" Achillea asked, happy to be escaping, but at least wanting to know what the plan was. She had her whip and her sword in hand again. "The most convenient, flat and open space you know of beneath the Colosseum," Mark replied, hurrying along behind her. "A place almost no one knows about or uses." "One of the old training spaces," grunted Rullus. "It hasn't been used in years. Follow me!" Their course took them deeper beneath the stadium, through winding halls and narrow corridors and staircases. They finally reached a wide chamber, in the middle of which stood Becky, Nanu and Domitia. The former Vestal and the slave-girl seemed stunned to see the small party approaching, and the gladiators gaped as Lady Aurora and her slave ran into one another's arms, kissing deeply and feverishly, speaking in some unknown tongue. "Right!" Mark said, finally disengaging from Becky's tongue as he looked around, eyes flashing with determination. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I need you all to trust me. We're going to get you out of here, as quickly as we can." "How?" asked the Retiarius, looking about warily. "They'll find us eventually!" "I know, and what I'm going to say will sound like magic, but just run with it, okay?" Mark replied, walking over to the Holmes Field Device, which Becky had been kind enough to retrieve. He wasn't sure how, but she was better with this temporal shit than he was. And they trusted one another by now. "This contraption will get us out of here, but it's not big enough for all of us at once. I'm gonna take Lady Aurora and Domitia first, then come back for a few more, then the last load." Rullus nodded: "You spared my life, and I entrust you with it. Achilleia and I will go last, holding the room if the enemy comes." "Oh, Rullus;” Achilleia sighed, looking up at the hulking gladiator, her expression a dreamy one, before she suddenly scowled and smacked him on the back of his helmeted head. "You romantic asshole." Mark left them to argue while he hustled Becky and Domitia onto the platform, which was already switched on, lights and readings blinking around the surface. Becky swatted Domitia's hand as she tried to touch a dial. "You know where we're going?" he asked, hoping she had a better handle on this than he did. She nodded, smiling. "Leave it to me, Mark. I think you'll like this solution;” The climate was certainly a change from that of Rome, but it was also a pleasant experience in its own right. The city around them, built of red brick, sandy-colored stone, and studded with stately palm trees, reminded Mark of eastern cities in every movie he'd ever seen. Beyond the walls stretched endless expanses of desert, in which the city stood as a shining jewel in a vast sea of scorching sand. He didn't know why Becky knew to park the machine where she did, but he also knew she had figured out how to use his Holmes Field Device on her own, so he wasn't questioning it. Safe from prying eyes, and after two more trips back to the Colosseum to gather the other rebels, Mark now found himself in an ancient temple in the shape of a ziggurat, with priestesses standing in front of them and bowing. Unlike the Vestals, the white garments of these priestesses were delightfully spare, exposing more than it covered. "Lady Aurora Horatia," one of them said humbly. "Your timing is fortuitous, and we gladly accept your offer. Domitia will be given a new life as a priestess of Nanaya, or as she is known in your tongue, Suadela." The priestesses all walked up to Domitia and kissed her, welcoming her into their sisterhood. The former Vestal shed tears, not in sorrow, but because she had a new beginning. Nanaya, as the goddess was known in this far-flung province, was an ancient Sumerian goddess of sensuality and lust. When the Romans had conquered the land, they readily identified her with Suadela, to keep the peace. The priestess smiled at Mark and Becky again. "And for your generous donation of gold, we will take on your four friends here, to guard our temple, as the garrison makes no effort to do so. They are now, in their own way, lifelong servants and devotees of the goddess." The four gladiators beamed proudly. Since serving Nanaya, even as guardians of her temple, meant food, lodging and getting laid by her harlot-priestesses, they were more than amenable to the idea. "Lady Aurora," Domitia intoned, taking Becky's hands in hers and smiling slyly. "Will you consent to Bonosus and yourself being the first to receive my blessings as a priestess of Nanaya?" "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear;” Becky purred, pulling Domitia into her arms and kissing her deeply. A small villa in Roman Italy; Mark sipped wine from a goblet while Becky lay nearby on a couch, wearing nothing while Nanu sat on a small stool and massaged her feet. The sultry afternoon suited everyone, and they were finally at peace. "Helluva trip, Becks," Mark mused, draining his glass and then pouring more for himself. "You've gotten really good with the Holmes Field Device now. I seriously thought it was me who left the adrenalin tab for my discovery under the Colosseum, but it was actually you." "Sorry to scare you there," Becky sighed, as Nanu worked on her toes individually, sometimes even kissing them as she rubbed oil into them. "I found them in our tab supply, and thought it was our best bet. I just jumped behind a few hours when no one was around and stashed them in that cell for you." "So it wasn't even me coming back from the future to save myself," Mark chuckled. "Here I was so confident that I'd lived, that I couldn't be killed because future-self was looking out for me, but no, it was current you. So I could've been killed at any point, even if time lock kept me from killing anyone else." "It was a little bit messy, but you did survive, and that's what counts." Becky pointed out, caressing one of her tits lazily while enjoying Nanu's exquisite touch. "So what're we gonna do with her?" Mark asked, referencing the Egyptian slave-girl. Nanu had gotten used to her mistress and her manservant speaking in this weird, harsh language, and thought nothing of it anymore; when they needed her, they spoke Latin or her own tongue to her. Becky sighed contentedly and puddled further into the couch. Nanu's foot massages were utter bliss. "I was considering letting her stay here, and simply look after this little villa I bought for me. Whenever we visited, we'd just come back as close to the time we left as possible, but I have no idea if we could guarantee time snarls not getting in the way. So I'm bringing her home with me." Mark raised an eyebrow. "That a good idea? Or even possible?" Becky shrugged. "If she can't be brought with us, the Holmes Field Device won't work, right? So we care for her here. If it does allow it, I'll keep her with me in my house and teach her about her new world. I'll just say she's a foreign student bunking with me." "Literally, I might add." Mark quipped, holding up his goblet and winking. "Oh, you," Becky giggled while Nanu shed her clothes and crawled over Becky, straddling her hips and beginning to squirm their pussies together slowly. "I don't think she's gonna give up on the notion of being my slave-girl any time soon; it seems to make her feel safe. If she asks about you as a slave, I'll say I freed you." "Well, I was pretty enslaved to you for a while there," Mark chuckled. "Funny, I remember being so in love with you while those tabs were in effect, and I remember it fondly. But at this point, I'm just back to feeling like you're my dear friend, and I love you, just not in love any more, ya' know?" Becky sighed and nodded as she placed her hands gently on Nanu's tits and caressed them while undulating beneath the slave-girl. "I know what you mean. Talk about exhilarating, right? We should do that again at some point, just for funsies." "I'm in," Mark agreed, as his cock hardened from watching the two girls make love. He put down his wine, stood up and moved in behind them, kneeling at the bottom of the couch and sinking his cock deep inside Becky, making her moan as he started to slide in and out of her. "And what about our other acquisitions?" he asked, caressing and squeezing Nanu's ass while he fucked his Physics teacher. "Uh, the clothes we'll keep at my place, for future use," she breathed, loving the feel of Nanu's moist cunt on hers while Mark fucked deeply. She felt Nanu shiver and gasp as Mark pulled out of her and pushed into the slave-girl. "And I bought those big amphorae of Falernian wine, there's twenty-six liters in each. We'll bury them where we know nature has never been disturbed back in our time, and then retrieve them. Voila, Roman wine for dinner every night." "I'm gonna have fun explaining that to my parents;” Mark chuckled as he slid back into Becky, making her cry out. Dinner with Family. Dhallyla stared at the liquid in her glass in wonder while her family sat at the table for dinner. It was quite unlike anything she'd ever tasted before. "Mark, what; what did you say this was called again?" she asked. He shrugged as he ate. "It's a Roman-style wine, called Falernian. Lots of people are recreating ancient alcohol recipes now, so I thought we'd give this a shot. Pretty nice, hmm?" "Very strong," his sister Roxy rasped as she put down her wine glass and made a bit of a face. "Very, very strong." "That's why the Romans and Greeks mixed their wine with water," he chuckled. "Some Roman talked about not being able to bring an open flame near wine because it could catch fire. So I mixed it with water, like the instructions said. Sorry if it's still strong." "Where did you get this again?" his father asked. "Ren Faire," he said easily. "All sorts of brewers and people showing off their wine and beer skills these days at them, so I thought I'd give it a shot, ya' know? Bought a couple of bottles." "It's certainly different, but I can grow to like it," his mother mused. "Make sure you get more before we run out." "I can do that," Mark replied cheerfully. Later that night, he was sitting at his desk in his room, surfing for eras to visit during their next adventure, when the door to his room clicked shut. He turned his head to see his sister leaning back against the door, looking at him pointedly. "Something I can do for you, Rox?" he asked plainly, keeping his eyes on his research. "Now that you mention it, yeah," she said, folding her arms and wearing that insufferable smirk of hers. She never stopped reminding him who the elder sibling was. "So I did some looking around online, and there hasn't been a Ren Faire within five hundred miles of us in the last six months." Mark paused in his surfing and slowly turned to look at his sister. "So," she said, walking slowly toward him. "I figure it's about time you told me what the Hell is really going on;” Loose ends, scores to settle, a moral quandaries abound! It's Your Own Fault You Snooped! Mark didn't speak for several seconds, trying his best to not gape at Roxy. She'd always been somewhat suspicious of him when he did just about anything, but the fact that she'd done actual research this time was something new. She had played her hand, and he was cornered. But still, he found himself not sure what to say. "Well, c'mon, you little trouser snake," moving away from the door and sauntering toward him. She could tell she'd caught him dead to rights about something, but now she needed to find out what it was. "Ya' might as well 'fess up, because I somehow doubt you want mom and dad to know what you're up to." The mere thought brought a shiver to Mark and left a cold sweat on his brow. He swallowed, trying not to panic. Roxy had less mercy in a sibling confrontation than Mike Tyson had in the ring. He thought of the number of times she'd beaten his ass for tattling on her when they were younger, and how she'd always get some brutal form of revenge he was unlikely to forget. And he dreaded the thought of how she could screw this up for him. "I'm almost not wanting to find out, at least for a while, because watching your mind flop around in panic is kinda fun," she said, smirking as she stopped in front of him and leaned forward. "But I need to make a decision about whether the 'rents oughta know, so let's speed this up, okay?" She then turned and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning back on her hands, one leg crossed over the other as she looked at him pointedly. "Spill it, little brother." His mind raced. What could he tell her? She'd caught him in a flat-out lie that he had acquired his Falernian wine from a Ren Faire, and had no doubt pieced together that his other recent exotic acquisitions were likewise not from where he'd claimed. So what were her suspicions? She no doubt was assuming, quite reasonably, that he was involved in some illicit activity that

The Space Show Presents Dr. Daniel Whiteson on his new book, “Do Aliens Speak Physics” Friday, 11-14-25Brief Summary:Our program began with introductions and discussions about alternative physics theories, including hyperdimensional physics, and the challenges of accepting unconventional ideas in the scientific community. The group explored various topics related to extraterrestrial life and communication, including the nature of mathematics, the potential for alien civilizations, and the challenges of decoding alien messages. They concluded by discussing unidentified aerial phenomena, the possibility of discovering extraterrestrial life, and the difficulties of communicating with alien civilizations, while acknowledging the skepticism of most physicists regarding philosophical questions about the nature of physics and reality.Detailed full summary:David, Dr. Daniel Whiteson (our guest) and John Jossy discussed alternative physics theories, including the brief mention of hyperdimensional physics (if real), and the challenges of accepting unconventional ideas in the scientific community. John Jossy, a physicist & astronomy major at Cal and now a retired engineer, shared his educational background and interest in astronomy, expressing excitement for the upcoming discussion on life and the universe. The group also touched on the importance of traditional science education and the evolution of science requirements in universities that seem weaker today than yesteryear.The meeting recording started with a discussion about Andy Weir's book, “Project Hail Mary,” including its screenplay adaptation by the same person who wrote “The Martian.” Daniel expressed admiration for the book's creativity, particularly in its portrayal of alien interactions. David then introduced the show's format and Wisdom Team participants, including Marshall Martin, a retired software engineer with an engineering perspective, and John Hunt, a physics advisor to David and TSS. David explained his background in business and his interest in space and science, as well as his son's experience with cystic fibrosis and the advancements in medical technology which led him to many lessons learned re media, science and medical reporting, narrow versus broad minded thinking while remaining grounded in reality. The Team discussed the potential for alien contact and the importance of science and media in shaping public perception of future technologies. The conversation ended with an announcement of upcoming guests and a reminder about the show's fundraising campaign which is essential to Space Show continuance as it is a 100% listener supported non-profit program.Daniel discussed his book “Do Aliens Speak Physics?” which explores the question of whether physics is universal and if aliens would necessarily understand it in the same way as humans. He emphasized the importance of remaining open-minded about potential alternative ways of understanding the universe, as current data only supports the universality of physics within our observable universe. Daniel explained his decision to write the book in a light-hearted, accessible format with humor and illustrations to make complex concepts more approachable for readers. David raised the possibility that aliens might perceive and interact with the universe in fundamentally different ways than humans, potentially challenging our current understanding of physics and conservation laws.Daniel discussed the nature of physics and reality, exploring the possibility of multiple ways to describe the universe. He explained that while our current models of physics work well, they are based on philosophical assumptions rather than scientific evidence. Daniel suggested that the universe could be much stranger than we imagine, and that our intuitive understanding may not align with the true nature of reality. He also touched on the limitations of our senses and how they shape our perception of the universe, highlighting the potential for alien physics to be fundamentally different from our own.The Wisdom Team discussed the challenges of communicating with extraterrestrial life, focusing on two scenarios: receiving a message from aliens and their physical arrival on Earth. Daniel and David explored the difficulties of decoding alien messages, highlighting the arbitrary nature of language encoding and the lack of a Rosetta Stone for alien languages. They emphasized that even understanding human languages without cultural context is challenging, making the prospect of decoding alien messages seem hopeful but uncertain. The discussion concluded that direct physical interaction with aliens might offer a more promising avenue for communication, as it would provide a shared context for building understanding.The Wisdom Team discussed the possibility of extraterrestrial intelligence and the nature of mathematics in the universe. Daniel and David explored the idea that mathematics might not be universal, while John Hunt suggested that alien species could have different senses and physical capabilities. Daniel shared his experiences with the elegance of mathematical descriptions in physics, but also acknowledged the arguments of mathematician Field, the author of the classic “Science Without Numbers,” that mathematics could be a human construct rather than a universal language. The discussion raised questions about whether aliens could understand the universe differently, and whether mathematics is necessary for explaining physical phenomena.We continued discussing the nature of mathematics and its potential alternatives, with Daniel explaining that while mathematicians seek universal axioms, physicists are more flexible in their approach, often modifying axioms to better describe observations. Marshall challenged the notion of alternative foundations to Euclidean geometry, while John Jossy focused on the universality of the four fundamental forces, suggesting that even aliens would likely recognize these forces despite different methods of perception and communication.Daniel discussed the possibility that alien civilizations might not share humanity's scientific approach to understanding the universe, suggesting that technological advancement could occur without a deep understanding of fundamental physics. He emphasized that human descriptions of the universe are approximate and historically contingent, leading to the idea that there could be multiple valid ways to describe and interact with the universe. David asked about the best way to attempt contact with aliens, given potential incompatibilities in communication methods. Daniel suggested building von Neumann probes for exploration, noting the large distances involved and the potential for exponential reproduction, while acknowledging the ethical and practical challenges of such an endeavor.Daniel and David discussed the possibility of extraterrestrial life and the potential for discovering intelligent beings with different ways of understanding the universe. Daniel emphasized the excitement of finding colleagues with similar interests but also highlighted the value of encountering beings who challenge human assumptions about mathematics and physics. He suggested that discovering alien intelligence that operates differently from humans could offer profound insights into the nature of human existence. David raised a question about the role of a universal God in the context of alien life, prompting Daniel to reflect on the possibility that such a God might not necessarily be the same for all intelligent beings.Daniel and David discussed the potential for extraterrestrial life and the implications for human understanding of the universe. Daniel suggested that aliens might have diverse beliefs and cultures, including religious and scientific perspectives, which could challenge human concepts of God and faith. David shared a perspective from a Chabad rabbi that equates scientific and religious faith, but Daniel emphasized the self-correcting nature of science as a key distinction given that scientific faith requires data. Religious faith is usually based on stories, not quantifiable data. Marshall raised the possibility of using artificial intelligence to communicate with aliens, but Daniel expressed doubt that AI could truly understand the universe, though it might assist in decoding alien communications.As we were nearing the end of the program, our Wisdom Team discussed the possibility of unidentified aerial phenomena (UAP) and extraterrestrial life, with Daniel expressing skepticism despite wanting to believe in aliens. John Hunt shared his perspective on the pervasive nature of UAP reports over the past 80 years and the government's history of disinformation. They explored potential methods of communication with aliens, with Daniel suggesting starting with mathematics and using a broad range of sensors to detect signals. David raised questions about Earth's signal leakage and the potential for extraterrestrial civilizations to detect us, suggesting that light-based communication might be more effective than radio waves, assuming we used the best wave lengths for such communication.In conclusion, our discussion focused on the challenges of communicating with extraterrestrial civilizations, with Daniel explaining that while powerful astrophysical phenomena like quasars emit intense signals, harnessing such energy for communication would be impractical and potentially dangerous. Daniel emphasized the difficulty of distinguishing between natural signals and potential alien communications due to our limited understanding of the universe, using examples like the WOW signal and cosmic rays to illustrate this challenge. The conversation concluded with Daniel expressing optimism about the possibility of discovering extraterrestrial life, while acknowledging that most physicists are skeptical of philosophical questions about the nature of physics and reality.If you are reading the summary on The Space Show website, try Substack and watch the Zoom video: doctorspace.substack.com. Please don't forget that we are in our fund raising period to support TSS for the coming year. Please donate now. Let me know if you have questions.drspace@thespaceshow.com. 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To donate via Pay Pal, use:To donate with Zelle, use the email address: david@onegiantleapfoundation.org.If you prefer donating with a check, please make the check payable to One Giant Leap Foundation and mail to:One Giant Leap Foundation, 11035 Lavender Hill Drive Ste. 160-306 Las Vegas, NV 89135Upcoming Programs:Broadcast 4462: Zoom: Dr. Doug Plata | Sunday 16 Nov 2025 1200PM PTGuests: Dr. Doug Plata Get full access to The Space Show-One Giant Leap Foundation at doctorspace.substack.com/subscribe

The Time Riders: Part 7 Becoming A Slave Owner. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Cast of Characters: Mark Simmons: 18 year old High School grad, enamored with Miss Becky Fischer. He finds the time machine and builds a new life. Uses various aliases in traveling. Rebecca 'Becky' Fischer: Mark's Physics teacher. Very intelligent, in her later twenties, Shapely Tall Blonde, lusty bisexual, D Cup tits. Martial arts expert, Uses various aliases in traveling. Henri: Claims to be a French physician and Apothicary. Chester Edgerton: Time traveling mentor, living in 17th Century French village. Cardinal Richelieu: ‘The Red Duke'. Statesman and Roman Catholic Cardinal. Dispises Queen Anne. Alexandra D'Assaut ('Alexa', or 'Lexi': Lady in waiting (and trusted advisor) to Queen Anne of France, Lusty bisexual, Very Tall, Busty DD tits, long golden blonde hair, Blue eyed. Lisette: servant (and lover) of Lady Alexandra, young, bespeckled brown eyes. Short, shapely, with wavy dark hair, bisexual. Dhallyla: Mark's mother. Roxy: Mark's sister. Nanu: An Egyptian slave of Pompeneia Flavius, purchased by Becky, dark complexion. Pompeneia: Roman hostess of Orgies. Lusty wife of Flavius, Mother of Domitia, bisexual, tall and shapely. Flavius: Roman aristocrat, husband of Pompeneia, protective father of Dometia, Domitia: Lusty young daughter of Pompeneia and Flavius. A pledged Vestal Virgin, Escapes to Sumeria when sentenced to death by starvation by Roman court. Pompeneia looked at Nanu and spoke to her somewhat tersely. "You are now owned by the Lady Aurora Horatia, who has purchased you at a fair price from me. Such belongings as you might have, girl, will be leaving with you when the Lady departs. Understood?" Nanu's eyes widened and she felt her heart suddenly pounding in her chest in shock and delight. Unable to contain her smile, she nodded eagerly. Pompeneia looked back at her guest and smiled. "She is all yours, my lady." Becky looked at Nanu and smirked, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for, girl? Go find that lazybones Bonosus and tell him." Nanu was gone in a flash. Becky turned to look at Pompeneia and smiled wickedly as she leaned her back down on the couch and wiggled her way between Pompeneia's hips, so that her mouth was at her hostess' cunt. "Now, how about I find another way to thank you for your generosity?" she purred as she began sliding her tongue along those sticky lips; Mark was wandering through the darkened rooms of the parts of the house not currently being used by the orgy, still looking for a damn lavatory. Why the Hell did the Romans have such fucked-up house layouts? He'd passed about ten servants' bedrooms already; was he just supposed to piss on one of them? He paused as he heard a quiet noise, one he recognized quickly as sighing. It had been coming from a room nearby, and it was definitely a girl's sigh. Or a really femmy boy slave. You couldn't guess in ancient Rome. Either way, he decided to investigate. He tiptoed forward, looking into various dark rooms he'd passed. He heard another sigh, and then something more akin to a moan. He smiled slyly, identifying the room it had finally come from. He crept up and peered around the open wooden doors to look inside; She had her back to him, but inside the dark chamber, which was obviously a bedroom, was a young woman, with her face seemingly pressed to the far wall, and squirming her hips beneath her expensive clothing and beginning to pant. She had voluminous brown hair worn up on her head, exposing a shapely neck, and her stola dress had ridden up high enough to expose her lush ass cheeks, which were quivering and squeezing while she fingered herself. Grinning, Mark leaned against the door frame and just watched quietly. He wasn't beyond a good show. A tiny point of light near her head finally showed Mark what she was doing; there was a small hole in the wall, big enough for her to see through, and she was clearly watching the orgy happening on the other side. She was also clearly having a great time getting off to it. He liked the sight of her, at least, what he could readily see; she had a great ass, a slender back and shapely legs. Her dark brown hair, worn in several braids, was just begging to be pulled on. He couldn't see her cunt from here, but he could definitely hear how wet she was. He quietly entered the room and glided up behind her. She smelled of iris and roses, a perfume he found thrilling, especially here in this dark room, both of them unseen by the scores of others in the villa. His cock, still hard and throbbing, couldn't wait to be buried deep inside her. He moved in close and pressed up against her, his rigid shaft sliding between her legs. She shuddered in shock and drew in a breath, as if she was about to scream; but he quickly and gently clamped his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other hand around her waist. Her moved his head next to her ear. "You don't need to scream or be frightened," he whispered, feeling her still shaking. "I am the Lady Aurora's servant Bonosus, and I just want to be with you this day;” She turned her head, her eyes wide, as she tried to see him, his hand still loosely over her mouth. Her body was still stiff in possible panic, but she hadn't cried out yet. He smiled at her, trying to assure her he meant no harm. "If I let go of your mouth, will you scream?" he asked. The girl shook her head. For whatever reason, Mark believed her, and removed his hand from her mouth, and his arm from around her waist. She didn't run, but she threw herself against the wall she was standing next to, almost clutching at it as she turned around to face him. Her eyes were still wide, and he could see she was breathing heavily. "See? I'm not gonna hurt you," Mark said, smiling cheerfully. Staying pressed against the wall for safety, she looked him up and down slowly, noticing now that he was quite naked. Her eyes lingered on his erect cock for several seconds, as if captivated by it. He could now see her from the front, and what he was looking at pleased him; she had a pretty face, certainly. Not exotic, like Nanu, nor was she as striking and just plain gorgeous as Becky, but it was a pretty face nonetheless. Her eyes were brown, her cheekbones high, and her mouth sensual and full. The face; he knew it. Lady Pompeneia and Master Flavius! This must be their daughter. He continued looking at her body, noting now that her entire outfit was askew; not only had her dress been pushed up around her hips in front, to allow her to finger herself, but the top of her dress was pulled down, no doubt so that she could play with her pert tits. They were not large, but looked perfectly full on her slender frame, capped with brown aureoles and nipples, which were still hard. She had a tiny waist and womanly hips. He was going to enjoy fucking her. "My name is Bonosus, like I said," he repeated, moving in a tiny bit closer to her. She didn't try to escape, but perhaps flattened herself a little more against the wall. He tried not to seem so forceful. And odd thing, since he was at an orgy, and was already used to just fucking whomever he liked. "Would you tell me your name?" She finally spoke, her voice low and quiet. "My name is Domitia. I am the daughter of your hosts, the Master and Mistress Flavius." "I am very happy to meet you, Domitia," he said, smiling and nodding. In his ear, he could hear the implant translate her name as 'she who is tamed'. He suddenly had a very good feeling about this encounter. "In the name of my mistress' goddess, Feronia, I would ask you to join me in making love." "You; you are kind, Bonosus," she stammered, her face pale, but a flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were no longer wide, but turning glassy. "But I must; I shouldn't;” "I thought today was a day where all people cast aside their inhibitions, and did exactly as they pleased," he reasoned, stepping a little closer, noticing that she did not attempt to move away from him. "I already saw you looking through that hole there;” Now Domitia blushed furiously, turning her head to look at the ground. "I am ashamed; I should not; I shouldn't have been;” "What were you looking at, anyway?" he queried, pressing himself against her, his cock now flat against her belly, separated from her skin only by the fine material of her stola. She shivered as she felt his cock press to her, and her hands reached up and flexed, without touching him. Leaning over her shoulder, her wondrous scent in his nostrils, he closed one eye and peered through the tiny hole in the ochre-painted wall. He smiled slyly as he could see that the hole looked out on the palaestra, the courtyard in which he and Becky (and several others) had been fucking earlier. Even now, he could see a man bending a slave girl over in the shallow pool and fucking her from behind, while two women beyond the pool were lying opposite each other, legs scissored and slithering their pussies together. One of them was sucking on the cock of a slave who leaned over her, moaning and fondling her tits. "Well, you were enjoying yourself, clearly," Mark mused, turning and smirking at her. She looked at him, trying to smile back, but then just blushing and looking at the ground again. At least she wasn't trying to leave anymore. "Would you like to watch through the hole again while I fuck you from behind?" Something in his suggestion made her tense very suddenly, and she looked at him again, her eyes now wide. "I; shouldn't; no, my parents must not know I'm here, they; I should return to my domicile." "Are you married?" he asked, thinking that even if she was, she had showed up at her parents' orgy and was making herself cum, even if she'd been hiding. Marriage didn't seem to be a barrier during an orgy, near as he could tell. By his count, he'd already fucked at least four married patrician women and three plebeian women today. "Yes! No! I;” she stammered, blushing again and closing her eyes. Against her will, she inhaled deeply, taking in his raw, animal scent. Gods, he smelled divinely of sexuality, of carnality, of; heated fucking. It made her instantly wet, and her body trembled in need. "I cannot;” He smiled slyly and could tell that she wanted to stay. Even though she was protesting, he could already feel her hips pressing forward, squirming against him, desperate to finish what she was started when she was alone. She wanted to cum with him. "Then don't say anything," he whispered to her, his hands on her hips now. She shuddered again, her eyes wide and glassy as she gazed up at him. "Let me take care of this for you, Domitia;” He couldn't be sure, but the thought she nodded almost imperceptibly. Her felt her tits press forward against him. Her name means 'She who is tamed'; He took both her wrists in one hand and lifted them, pinning them against the wall over her head. She gasped and shivered, seemingly cowed by his superior strength. Her hips squirmed against him again, her tits heaving as she almost began to pant. Her eyes were flashing now, and he could see lust in them, almost as if it was forbidden and impure. He would give her what she wanted, that was certain. Domitia sucked in her breath as he put his free hand on her tit and fondled her, the soft skin yielding before his touch, his palm brushing over the hard nipple. Domitia bit her lip as she tried to remain quiet, her whole body trembling with a need for release. Mark caressed her other tit as well, pinching the nipple and pulling on it gently, making the brown-haired girl whimper and squeeze her eyes shut. "No; uh;” she gasped. His hand now found her waist and undid the cotton strip that belted the stola, letting it fall away. Domitia was breathing heavily now, especially when he began to pull her dress down, revealing more and more of her body. She gasped loudly as she felt his hard cock pressed against her belly now. She pushed her tits against his chest, squirming with urgency. Her protests made less and less sense by the moment, although he surmised it was just for show. Girls did that sometimes. At least, that's what Becky and other girls he'd fucked had told him. Domitia seemed to be no exception. Her stola now pooled around her ankles, revealing her body. The one flickering brazier in the corner of the room revealed that he had seen correctly; she had a lovely body. Not an erotic fantasy like Becky's, which was the product of the modern era of vitamins, yogurt, quinoa, hemp seeds and CrossFit, but still lush and attractive, and currently given to a deep-seated lust he wanted to fulfill. Her eyes were flashing as they stared up into his, her tits heaving. She bared her teeth as he reached down and cupped her cunt, which was now dripping wet. His finger slid up and down her length, finding her clit and eliciting a gasp. Her hands, still pinned above her head, flexed compulsively. She was breathing heavily now. "Keep your arms above your head," Mark said firmly as he released them and brought his hand down, both of them reaching behind her and taking hold of her ass cheeks. Domitia almost hissed as he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She had readily obeyed, and kept her arms over her head, as if they were still pinned there. Her submission to him seemed very real and complete. Looking into her eyes, he held her steady, leaning her back against the wall while one of his hands guided his cock to her wet entrance. One he felt the engorged tip nestle against her lips, he placed his hand back on her ass cheek and began to push; Domitia breathed deeply as he penetrated, but then shook and whimpered as he encountered a barrier. Mark paused, but then felt her push her hips against him, and proceeded to lean forward against the wall. She shook and cried out, and Mark suddenly slipped deep inside her warmth easily. Holy shit, she'd been a virgin; awesome! She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face against his neck, trembling almost uncontrollably. Seconds later, she lifted her face and look up at him, her eyes glassy. Whatever pain she'd been feeling was clearly gone, now. He could, on the other hand, feel a single, warm trickle of a fluid down the underside of his cock, and the air smelled slightly of pennies now. "You have made me a woman," she murmured, still staring at him. "Let us finish this wondrous coupling now. Fuck me, Bonosus, servant of Lady Horatia;” She put her arms back above her head again, her wrists crossed, as a sign of his power over her. Mark nodded and began pumping slowly, sliding his cock in and out of her. Domitia trembled again, at the feel of him inside her, hard and throbbing, her cunt squeezing around him. She sighed loudly, eyes still locked with his. "A girl could die this way, and happily;” she breathed, squirming her tits against his chest. It was a bit of a strange thing to say, he thought, maybe a little morbid, but teen girls were like that sometimes, with the weird, poetic drama. He'd fucked a goth chick once, and she was; Domitia grunted and began pumping back against him lustily, all her fears of their fucking obviously gone. She was hissing through her teeth, grinding her hips against him as he made a sawing motion with his, pushing deep inside her wanton cunt. He could feel her cunt tightening around him as she found their rhythm, slippery and getting wetter by the moment. She jammed her lips against his and kissed him feverishly, their tongues wrestling between their mouths. He held her tighter, thumping her against the wall each time he thrust his cock deep inside her. She moaned into his mouth, and her warm skin was getting damp with sweat as he took her. She might have been a virgin mere moments ago, but her carnal desires would not be denied anymore. Domitia pushed back for all she was worth, her arms finally coming down and gripping his back. They were still kissing in a frenzy, and Mark was breathing through his nose, his hips smacking against hers. Domitia panted and moaned into his mouth with each thrust, her fingernails raking his back as she fought to get him ever deeper inside her. Her need almost baffled him, because he could feel the head of his cock battering her cervix each time he drove home. The wet sucking sounds her cunt made filled the room, even over the sounds of their groans. Mark was growing warm now, and he could feel that the sex tabs he'd used had already replenished his cum, deep inside his balls. When he did bust, this girl's first experience would see her overflowing with cum, his cum, and it would be glorious. He wanted to bring her out of hiding and over to the orgy. He wanted to fuck her at the same time as he fucked Becky and Nanu. Domitia seized up suddenly, shaking around him and screaming into his mouth while her cunt clenched him ferociously. He kissed her hard, making sure she didn't alert the whole house, and fucked her harder than ever, making her wail into his mouth again. He could feel his own body heating up rapidly, the distinct, tingling boiling in his balls letting him now that orgasm was now unstoppable. Mark pulled her hard against him, pressing into her as far as he could, straining and arching his back. The floodgates burst and he began filling Domitia with his pearly cum, and she panted and almost growled at the release. She churned and writhed on his cock, her frothy essence smearing his entire groin. He felt the peristaltic motions of his inner muscles, spurting his cum up his cock and deep inside his lover, a glorious, blessed release. Best. Orgy. Ever. He sagged against her, breathing heavily, while Domitia went limp in his grip, sighing in deep pleasure. She was no longer raking her fingernails over his back but caressing it gently, almost reverently. It was kind of backwards, since he was supposedly a slave and she was a patrician's daughter, but what the hey, she was a total subbie, right? She purred as she kissed his damp skin, still undulating her hips against him and squeezing his cock gently with her gooey cunt. He held her close, his forehead against her neck while he tried to regain his breath. This orgy was barely half over. There was so much to; The screech from behind them froze his blood instantly. He went rigid for several moments, before his head snapped around and he looked to see who was in the doorway. Gazing at the entwined pair in astonishment, bordering on horror, was Nanu. Still quite naked, her face was frozen in shock, her mouth working soundlessly. Confusion engulfed him, wondering what had caused the slave-girl to have such a caustic reaction to what she'd seen. Was it jealousy? It couldn't be that; she'd watched him fuck plenty of other women today. He looked back at Domitia, and saw that she had frozen as well, pale with what could only be described as terror about their discovery. That confused him too. What the Hell was happening here? Endless feet seemed to come stampeding toward them, and cries of shock now echoed through the house. Master Flavius surged through the door and stopped dead, his eyes wide as dinner plates. "Domitia!" he said in a quavering voice, pointing a trembling finger at the duo. "What are you;" Lady Pompeneia, accompanied by Becky, now bustled into the room. The matron stopped dead upon seeing them, her body shaking. Becky's eyes went wide. "Oh, shit;” she muttered in English. "Father!" Domitia called out, still impaled on Mark's cock, but looking over his shoulder at her parents. "Mother, I;” She made to move, but Mark's tool shifted inside her, and she gasped in pleasure and began wriggling furiously, fucking him again despite their ever-growing audience. People cried out in shock, and Lady Pompeneia's eyes rolled into her head before she fell to the floor in a dead faint. The cacophony grew, with Mark staring in confusion and Domitia grunting like an animal as she fucked her way to ecstasy again, seemingly unable to stop. A patrician woman entered and shrieked, scandalized by what she saw. "The slave!" she called out, aghast. "He has defiled one of Vesta's Virgins!" As if in response, Domitia shook and arched her back, wailing loudly as she came. "Seize that man!" shouted Flavius, his face purple with fury. Free men and slaves both surged forward, grappling onto Mark and trying to yank him away. But Domitia would not be pried off him, howling in protest and still grinding herself madly on his cock, squealing through another orgasm, even as they led the pair away. Most of the crowd followed them out, still clamoring loudly. Some women helped the swooning Pompeneia to her feet, and led her out of the room. Soon, the only people left were Becky and Nanu, who stood in the doorway. The slave-girl stared at her new mistress, who shrugged rather helplessly. Nanu turned and followed the crowd, leaving Becky alone in the room. It was eerily quiet now, the noise of the crazed crowd getting increasingly distant; people yelling in outrage, punctuated by the distinct sounds of Domitia cumming yet again, loudly. Becky finally hung her head for a moment, shaking it and smiling. "Oh, I can't wait to see how this turns out;” she said to herself as she walked out the door. The Wrath of Rome The mightiest city in the world, lord of Europa, teeming with untold citizens, slaves and foreigners. Blessed by Jupiter, greatest of the gods, and fed by the ancient Tiber River, Rome stood glorious and invincible, crowned with seven hills like jewels. Not that Mark could see any of that from his tiny, stinky little prison cell. He sat on the dirty floor, sighing despondently as he looked through the iron bars that separated him from the rest of the world. He'd found a corner that was not sticky with the effluences of previous inhabitants of the cell, crouching up with his knees to his chest. He suspected that the tab he was wearing would protect him from disease and sickness, but he'd be damned if he was taking any chances. He heard grunting and groaning from the cells behind him, then an absolutely disgusting series of splattering noises as someone began crapping themselves messily. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion and stared along the bottom of the wall, making sure nothing was likely to seep through. He turned his head and stared blankly across the small hallway at the cell opposite. Out of the darkness, a deranged, naked man appeared, his wild, scraggly beard greying and caked with God-knows-what. He cackled at Mark and helicoptered his cock at the new prisoner, all the while trying to shake the bars of his cell. Mark shook his head and looked away, finding a spot on the wall to stare at. He noted some graffiti, in Latin, brown with age; it was either dried blood or shit, but he decided he didn't care enough about what it said to get closer. He'd taken off the ratty tunic they'd given him, because it stank and had things crawling in it. Since he'd been arrested and dragged off naked from the Flavius villa, with Domitia still impaled on him, they'd eventually attempted to cover him up; somewhat difficult, since he was suffering from what was essentially medically induced priapism. Even now, he gazed down between his legs, noticing that his cock was still rock-hard. Had the tab malfunctioned? Was he supposed to stay erect this long? What the Hell kind of sex were they having in the twenty-eighth century that a guy needed to stay hard for a day and a night? He closed his eyes and pressed his head against his forearms, trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong; how the Hell was he supposed to know that there was a Vestal Virgin hiding in the damn house and masturbating? He'd heard of Vestal Virgins, of course, but he knew nothing about them. He'd paid attention in History class only moderately more than he had in Physics. Seemingly, he'd done an incredibly bad thing. Like 'fucking a pastor's blind virgin daughter on the altar' kind of bad. As decadent as Rome might have been, you didn't mess with their Vestals. He wished Becky was here. He hadn't seen her since he'd been dragged away from the villa, and he hoped she was okay. He had no idea if she was going to be in trouble or not, since she was supposed to be his owner. He groaned and shook his head, wishing he'd just wake up and this was all a dream; “Damn!” "Shut up in there!" said one guard harshly as he walked by. "Gonna make me, tough guy?" Mark grumbled, once the chip in his head had translated what the guard said, even though he could've probably figured it out on his own. The guard whirled around and stuck his arm through the bars, trying to hit Mark with the cudgel he was carrying. Mark hurriedly dodged out of the way and grabbed the club from the man's hand; the guard's eyes widened as Mark glared down at him, much taller than his would-be assailant. Mark was just over six feet, while the Roman was maybe five-three. The man's gaze dropped to Mark's erection, which pointed at him angrily. "Listen, pal," Mark growled, beyond caring about his hard-on at this point. "Try that again, and I'll shove this club of yours so far up your ass that you'll have splinters in your tongue for a month. Got it?" The man nodded hastily, his face pale. "Good," Mark grunted, shoving the cudgel bac through the bars at him. "Now fuck off and leave me alone." The guard hurried away while the crazy guy across from Mark cackled again and babbled incoherently at his retreating form. Mark slumped back down and continued moping. He'd been in this little crap-hole for the best part of a day now, without food or a chance to relieve himself, unless he chose to piss on the floor. He felt rather justified in sulking. Several minutes passed before he was interrupted once again. "Well, you look pretty grumpy for someone who spent most of yesterday getting laid;” chimed a sweet voice. Mark's eyes flicked open and he stood up hastily, gawking at his Physics teacher, who stood outside his cell, smiling at him in amusement. "Becks!" he said hastily, wiping at himself as if he had clothes on, forgetting that he was naked. "Hi! Uh; I'm glad you're okay!" "It's good to see you too, handsome," she replied, her eyes trailing down to his erection. She was wearing the elegant stola and accoutrements of a patrician woman now, much more modest than her attire just the day before. "Guess your hormones haven't worn off yet, hmm?" "Oh, he's got a mind of his own," Mark muttered, blushing slightly. "Trust me, the lynch mob was quite a libidoectomy. Where've you been?" "Well, once you got carted off, I thought I'd better take a look into what was likely to happen to everyone involved," she stated, seemingly not that concerned. "Roman litigation is a weird thing. They have trials, and you'll have a lawyer appointed to you, but the court of public opinion really counts as well, it seems." "So, I really screwed up when I fucked one of their Vestal Virgins?" Mark asked, trying not to sweat. Becky smiled. "Mark, you had no way of knowing, because she never should have been there to begin with. Vestal Virgins don't, in theory, belong to their parents any more, after they're selected for the honor. For her to be hiding in a room in her parents' house, jilling off, is a huge breach of her vows already, never mind getting caught with you bruising her brainstem." Mark thought about that for a moment. "So; Domitia's in trouble too?" "She's in even more trouble than you, to be honest," replied the teacher, shrugging. "You, you're some shmuck slave who got lucky. Her, she broke Rome's most sacred vows. She might as well have squatted over and peed on the Sacred Flame they protect, to extinguish it. Everyone associates the Vestals with the spiritual well-being of Rome itself. If one of the Virgins is impure, it's bad for Rome." "Damn;” he said under his breath, frowning at the floor. "Well, what about you? Are you in shit at all, because you're my owner?" "Well, not so far," Becky mused. "I'm sure that can change at a moment's notice, if anything goes really wrong." "Really wrong?" Mark exclaimed, gesturing to the cell around him in exasperation. "If this is only moderately wrong, I'd hate to see what's really wrong you're going on about!" "Oh, don't be such a drama llama," she cooed, waving dismissively. "We'll figure this out." "Are you okay, Becks?" he asked, making a wry face as he looked at her. "Last time we were in trouble like this, you kinda She-Hulked out on everyone, remember? You kicked at least five people in the crotch, one of whom was Cardinal Richelieu." "Yeah," she said almost wistfully. "I think my system is flooded with hormones from those tabs, and they're making me pretty mellow. I'm still in love with you right now, for instance." "Well, not to exploit your chemical imbalance here, but what are the chances of you doing something to make sure the man you're in love with doesn't die in this cell?" Mark said rather insistently. "Oh, you won't die in this cell," Becky pointed out. "The Romans weren't big on imprisonment at this point in their history. They're probably either gonna behead you or crucify you." "Becks!" Mark said loudly, going pale and beginning to panic. "You can't let them behead me, I like my head where it is!" "Yes, you are rather attached to it," she giggled. "And don't worry about getting crucified, only I'm allowed to nail you, after all. And speaking of;” She slinked forward, smiling saucily at him, lifting the hem of her long stola, revealing her wet cunt beneath. She turned around, presenting her shapely ass to him and swaying it back and forth while looking over her shoulder at him. "How about you put that stout nail of yours in my tool box?" she purred. "Now?" he exclaimed. "Not like you have anything else to do at the moment, Mark," she pointed out, still wiggling at him. "Move up to the bars and stick it out here;” Ignoring his exasperation, Mark sighed and pressed himself up against the bards, his rigid cock sticking out the other side. Becky lined up her sticky cunt with the head and pushed herself back on it, sighing in bliss as she did. Mark trembled as he penetrated her, having to admit to himself that it felt good to be inside his teacher. Becky closed her eyes as began squirming back against him, sliding his hardness in and out of her cunt. Eighteen hours without sex had felt like eighteen years, no doubt due to the hormones from the tabs. She guessed that their bodies, new to these stimulants from the far future, were not acclimated to the effects just yet; not that she was complaining, mind. She groped and massaged her tits as they spilled out of the top of her stola, reveling in the feel of Mark's lovely cock splitting her wide and touching deep inside. She stood up and pressed back against the bars, keeping his manhood firmly locked inside herself, wiggling and swaying, but also bringing his hands around to her tits, which he now squeezed and massaged in circles, making her groan loudly. The bars kept them apart somewhat, but he was still deep inside her, and that was what counted. Until she opened her eyes and saw the crazy guy in the cell across from them, looking at her with wild eyes, his tongue lolling out of his head, and jerking his filthy cock madly. "I miss seeing your face, Mark," she decided, turning around suddenly and pressing close to him again. She made him hold the bars, steadying his throbbing cock while she sidled forward, taking him inside her cunt again, sucking in her breath. She held onto the bars as well, squirming her hips. The bars were too closely spaced together to fit her legs through and wrap them around his hips, but he was still deep enough inside her to fuck her properly. "Hmm, baby;” If any guards knew what was happening, they chose to not interfere or even be nearby. They left the wealthy patrician woman alone. Of all the places Mark had expected to fuck Becky during their temporal travels, this would have been one of the last, he had to admit. Becky pushed her lips against his, kissing him deeply and lovingly. Their tongues tangled as she fucked him, exhilarating in the feel of his hard shaft in her and knowing she was going to cum quickly, and hard. She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes, her own flashing with lust. "You gonna cum in me, Mark?" she breathed, grinding on him hard, biting her bottom lip. "I want your cum in me, baby." He nodded, breathing heavily. He'd practically forgotten about his predicament, lost in the delirium of fucking his teacher. He pumped his hips back and forth in time with her movements, her cunt tightening around him and getting wetter with every second. He felt his cock throbbing and swelling inside her. "Yes, baby," she gasped, her skin flushed pink, her body trembling as she fought to hold on a few moments longer. "Cum deep inside me, Mark; oh God;” Becky clenched her teeth and arched her back as she pushed forward with her hips, straining hard; she felt Mark push against her as hard as he could, touching her cervix, and she shuddered and moaned loudly. The dam burst and he began cumming inside her, flooding her cunt with his desire. Becky shivered in pleasure, squeezing around him. They both sighed as the orgasm finally passed, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. Her fingers knotted with his and she gave him a peck on the lips before smiling. "Feel better?" she asked. "Oddly enough, yeah," he admitted, nodding. "So what do we do now? I don't wanna die here, Becks." "I know, don't worry, we'll figure it out," she replied, caressing his face with one hand while lowering the skirt of her stola with the other. "I've just gotta find out some things." "Can't we just bust me outta here and get out of Dodge?" he asked, not sure what the delay was. She gave him a quirky look. "Are we just supposed to leave Domitia to her fate? It's your fault she's doomed to death, you know. And there's also the matter of Nanu and what to do with her. We can't just prance around the timeline and mess up things with peoples' lives, Mark. I know you do it because you want to get laid, but there's still real consequences. You're living one of them." He sighed: "Yeah, you're right. I'm just worried." "I know you are, my love," she said gently, smiling warmly. "Just let me see what I can find out. Hang tight and stay out of trouble, okay?" She kissed him again lovingly and whispered something in his ear before sauntering out. He watched her leave and then sat back down, trying to ignore the fact that his hard-on was now sticky, on top of everything else. Getting shot by Richelieu may be have been ultimately worse, but this predicament was certainly less convenient. Some hours passed, and his mood decidedly did not improve. "Hello, my name is Faustus, and I am your legal representation during your trial," said a dull voice from beyond his cell. Mark's eyes drifted over to lay on a short, pudgy, balding man draped in a rather worn toga. He had some scrolls in a satchel he wore over his shoulder. He assessed Mark somewhat disinterestedly. "You are the slave Bonosus, yes?" Mark nodded. "And you are aware of the charges against you?" "Yup, I unknowingly boned a Vestal Virgin," Mark sighed, standing up, figuring he probably shouldn't be showing anyone any disrespect at this point. "What can I do for you, sir?" "Well, ignorance of the law is not likely to work as a defense in this particular instance, given the charge," Faustus said, tapping his satchel with his fingers. "Normally it might mitigate charges, but not where the Virgins are involved. At this point, I'm trying to spare you a cruel and painful death." "Swell," Mark said, his voice laden with apathy. "So, like, beheading instead of crucifixion sort of thing?" "Unless crucifixion is your preference, for some strange reason," replied the lawyer. "There is also the matter of your fee for my services in defending you?" Mark frowned: "I'm a slave, what am I supposed to be able to give you? Shouldn't you be talking to my owner, the Lady Aurora?" "The lady is proving difficult to contact, what with the entire city being in an uproar about you and all," Faustus reasoned, shrugging. "It may be up to you to see that my fees are met." "I don't have anything!" Mark protested somewhat angrily. Faustus trailed his gaze down Mark's well-built body, finally fixating on his erect cock and smiling lewdly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that;” Mark groaned and thunked his head against the iron bar that prevented his escape. He was wrong. This was worse than getting killed by Richelieu's men. Trial of Mark. Mark now found himself going through downtown Rome, but once again spending little time looking at the city; he was being hauled inside a cage on wheels along the Via Aurelia, with untold thousands of people lining the road, shouting, screaming and hissing at him. Rotten vegetables and rock-hard bread pelted his mobile prison, most of the projectiles not getting through to touch him. Mark didn't care. He stared out dully at the cacophony and churning masses of humanity, fully aware that his erect cock was pointing at them. He looked at the famed Palatine Hill and saw a large, rotund temple there, along with a vast manor. Outside the manor, standing on those distant steps, he saw many women dressed as Domitia had been, with their hair worn in the same style, staring down at him impassively. He almost laughed bitterly, knowing exactly who they are. No young person, ever, understood better than Mark now how important it was to pay attention to your studies. After all, it was about to cost him his head. His eyes widened when he saw Domitia dragged out the front doors of the manor by several servants and forced to look down at him. She seemed none the worse for wear, except for looking rather distraught and haggard. He saw, but could not hear her cry out at the sight of him, before being yanked back inside roughly, resisting the whole way. His lawyer, Faustus, had informed him that he'd be tried in a public court, his sentence determined there as well. If all went well, he wouldn't be made to wait long before his sentence was carried out. The waiting was the worst part, the lawyer assured him. The procession took forever, at least in his estimation. He was covered in tomato pulp and seeds, and bits of lettuce and other debris were sticking to him. "Will they at least allow me to bathe or clean up before my trial?" he'd complained to Faustus. He stank and he didn't like it. The lawyer said he'd see what he could do. On and on, his mobile prison rumbled slowly. They entered a crowded forum, surrounded by the white buildings Rome was renowned for. He saw several landmarks, but barely noted them. The presence of soldiers became heavier now, guarding against disturbances from the famously fickle and moody population of the city. They arrived at the courthouse, and he was hauled out of his cage by the chains his wrists were bound in. He ignored the cries and vitriol of the crowd, who had stopped throwing things, for fear of hitting a soldier or important person. At least there was that. He was brought into a small anteroom, where a pool sat in the center. He was unchained and shoved into it, allowed to bathe. Several Roman legionaries stood over him, one holding a whip in case Mark dawdled for any reason. Careful not to anger them, Mark cleaned himself diligently, but also as quickly as possible. When he got out of the pool, they dressed him in a plain but fresh tunic made of low-grade linen. There was one rather prominent problem, however, and the commander of the squad guarding him looked at Mark's crotch and scowled. "Does that thing ever go down?" he snapped. "Look, you're not as unhappy as I am about it," Mark shot back, exasperated about his condition. "Believe me! I had too many oysters at the orgy and now it won't go away." The commander thought about the predicament for a moment. He couldn't bring his prisoner into the courtroom sporting an erection. He finally ordered one of his men to tie a strap of linen around Mark's hips, keeping the obscene erection fixed flat against his belly. The legionaries chuckled as he was trussed, but then became serious as they prepared to lead him into the courtroom. Mark took a deep breath as he was led into the chamber that would determine his doom. Becky was squatting in a hallway, humming quietly as she sucked on the cock of a young lad who was running documents back and forth within the courthouse. He was pressed back against the wall, his eyes closed and moaning in pleasure as he let her work her magic. He didn't know exactly who this patrician woman was, but he wasn't about to stop her, either. Becky bobbed back and forth, swirling her tongue around his hardness and gently caressing his balls. She couldn't believe how horny she was! It had been more than twenty-four hours since the orgy and these sex stimulants were still wreaking havoc with her libido. If this kid lasted, maybe she could fuck him? She needed a good orgasm. A horn sounded outside the courthouse, and Becky paused mid-suck, opening her eyes and turning her head slightly to look in the direction of the noise, her cheek bulging comically as his cockhead pushed into it. The young man was still trembling and almost whimpering, even though she was distracted. "Damn, is it time for the trial already?" she exclaimed to herself before she stood up, straightened out her elegant stola and hurried down the hallway. The young paralegal gaped at her retreating form, his body trembling and his cock throbbing. "But I; I;” he protested, even though she was gone. He couldn't stop it. He whimpered and danced about on his toes, cum spurting from his aching cock. He grabbed his crotch and sighed deeply, doubling over at the release. Too late, he opened his eyes and noticed he'd spattered his jizz all over the documents he'd been bringing for the trial; "The accused is named Bonosus, a slave owned by Lady Aurora Horatia," announced one of the scribes in the room, a rotund chamber that had benches lining most of the walls, allowing for spectators. Today it was crowded, because the charges were so extraordinary. "Prior to this trial, the lady Horatia has been determined free of all guilt, with no investigation or charges needing to be brought forward." Becky, sitting near the trial stand, smiled and winked at the presiding praetor judge, an older, distinguished man, who subtly winked back at her before turning his attention back to Mark, staring sternly. Mark stood alone in the center of the rotunda, his hands and feet manacled, a single beam of wan light shining down on him from a hole in the center of the domed ceiling. He looked back at the judge blankly. "The accused is charged with disgracing a sacred virgin of the goddess, potentially putting great Rome in her disfavor, and such charges warrant only the ultimate of punishments, your honor!" declared a man in a well-embroidered toga made of exquisite fabric and trimmed in yellow. Mark assumed this was the lawyer meant to prosecute him. "For this heinous crime, Rome must be cleansed, to appear cleansed in the eyes of Vesta! We demand this Bonosus be burned at the stake!" Mark swallowed and looked at Faustus, who was sweating and wiping at his collarbone, trying not to fidget. People around the room were talking and whispering to one another. The judge looked down at the pudgy lawyer. "What say you on behalf of the accused, man?" "I;” he began, already faltering. "Your Honor, we feel that the defendant, being a mere slave ignorant of all law and education, had no way of knowing that he was indeed in contact with one of Rome's sacred girls. In that light, while we do not protest his guilt, we ask for clemency; lashes, if possible, or exile beyond the Empire's borders; but if he must die for this crime, let Great Rome show its much-famed mercy and give my client a swift beheading." People in the gallery began shouting angrily in protest at his words, while many of the advocates and adjudicates involved in the case began laughing derisively. Nobody seemed to be in Faustus' corner about this. Mark flicked his eyes up at Becky, and she was simply looking in impassively. A sinking feeling in his stomach took over his senses. Despite his fear, his cock throbbed in yearning at the sight of her. "Faustus, Faustus," chided the lawyer representing the city of Rome, shaking his head almost ruefully. "My dear Faustus, you are so good-hearted, but this defendant of yours did not simply assault one of the Sacred Virgins, he did not merely violate her chaste body, he sublimated her. He changed her! He has corrupted her! Bring in the girl!" Mark's eyes widened as Domitia was dragged into the chamber, clad in her sacred robes, but with strips of red fabric bound to her arms and around her forehead. She looked terrified, but then she saw Mark and her eyes widened. Before anyone could stop her, she broke free of the servants holding her and dashed forward, howling loudly and falling to her knees at his feet. Everyone gaped in astonishment as she lifted his tunic, releasing his cock from its confinement against his stomach, kissing and then sucking on it hungrily, plunging it all the way down her throat in crazed need. People howled in shock and outrage at the scene. Mark, who hadn't had any sex in over twenty-four hours and was in horny agony, groaned loudly despite himself and gripped her head, pumping his hips against her face desperately as people rushed toward him and tried to pull them apart. Someone finally managed to pry Domitia's mouth away from his cock, but when spectators tried to drag her away, she wildly latched her legs around his waist, grinding and humping at him in a desperate frenzy of lust, the skirt of her stola giving way and allowing her to spike herself onto him. The judge and other officials watched in bewilderment as the fracas stumbled around the rotunda, with people trying desperately to pull them apart. They were yanking at Domitia, who was panting and crying out in ecstasy, while Mark groaned in relief and need, despite the people clawing at him and punching him. One enterprising and rather stout legionary knelt beside the fornicators and grabbed hold of them, straining to separate them. Domitia's yelps and Mark's moans became desperate grunts to hold one to one another for several seconds. Eventually, though, Domitia's legs gave out and she was dragged back from him. Mark roared in protest as he shivered and came a split-second after she had been pulled off him. His cock, now released from its warm, wet confines, smacked the legionary across his nose and spat ropes of cum in his eye and across his face. He wailed at the sting and fell on the floor, kicking in panic and trying to wipe the spume out of his eyes. Domitia was finally restrained, and her mouth gagged to stop her howling. She continued to struggle, but it was no use. At last she sagged, seemingly exhausted. Mark looked around, finally noticing Lord Flavius and Lady Pompeneia in the crowd, looking on in horror and mortification. He glanced up at Becky, but she was looking at the ceiling and covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. "This!" said the prosecutor angrily, jabbing his finger first toward Mark and then at Domitia. "This is what the accused has done to one of the sacred Virgins! Turned her into an uncontrollable harlot! She is so completely undone that she cannot think of anything except quenching the fire between her wanton loins!" Many women gasped or cried out at his unprecedented words, while men muttered to one another. Lady Pompeneia looked like she was ready to faint again. "This is an outrage!" Lord Flavius shouted furiously. "We gave our daughter to the state willingly, to fulfill her destiny as a priestess of the goddess, and now we see ourselves unfairly shamed! And this; this; slave; endangers the safety of us all, calling our favor with Vesta into question!" "Do you call charges against the Lady Horatia to ruin your good name?" asked the prosecutor coolly. "Oh, no, no, of course not," Lord Flavius said hastily, shaking his head and looking over at Lady Aurora. "She remains blameless in all of this, assuredly." Becky winked at Lord Flavius, and then subtly at the prosecutor, who smiled and winked back. "Jesus, Becks;” Mark muttered, scowling at the ground. "You've been around the pool more times than Katie Ledecky since we got here;” "Silence!" boomed the judge angrily, his face still rather purple from witnessing the lewd chaos wreaked in his court. "Centurion, strike that man if he won't show respect!" Mark grunted and staggered as the centurion standing close to him cuffed him across the ear. He stayed upright, but glowered at the man. "Wanna try that while my hands aren't cuffed, asshole?" "Silence!" roared the judge, turning purple again as other guards kept Mark from jumping on his assailant. "You are a creature of vile sin!" shouted Lord Flavius from the benches, pointing a trembling finger at Mark. "Yeah? Who cares?" Mark shot back, glaring at his host. "Your wife wasn't complaining yesterday when she rode my hog to the Promised Land, was she? No complaints from your daughter, either!" Lord Flavius howled in fury as he tried to rush the floor but was restrained. Lady Pompeneia fainted again. Another guard cuffed Mark on the back of the head, staggering him again, but this time he didn't have a snappy comeback. He looked angry, but his face had a tic suddenly. People were shouting and crying out in horror at the chaos the proceedings had become. "What manner of devil are you, boy?" the judge hissed at Mark. "Oh, I'm here to fuck every woman in Rome," Mark said sarcastically, tired of this bullshit. "I meant for a Vestal Virgin to be last, ya' know, sort of the proverbial cum icing on the titty cake. But the opportunity came up, and wham, bam, thank you, Vesta;” People shrieked in outrage, and Faustus pissed himself, staring at Mark in dumbfounded horror. "That's right, gents, line 'em up!" Mark said angrily, his face still twitching. Why was he saying these things? Was the chip in his head giving him Tourette's? He wiggled his erection before the entire room, since his tunic had got caught on it when he was separated from Domitia and it was still in plain view, glistening with her spittle and cunt juice. "Bring your uppity wives and daughters to me, I'll make 'em behave!" Faustus just threw his legal scrolls in the air and stormed off. Another legionary tried to punch Mark, but he dodged the punch and rammed his forehead into the man's nose, just avoiding his helmet. The man fell backwards, holding his face. Mark might have tried to kick him, but there were suddenly ten legionaries surrounding him, their swords pointed at his throat. Mark held very still, glowering. The judged barked for the legal scrolls he was meant to consult during this trial, but they were not to be found. He yelled for them again, and a young man barged in hastily from the back door to the rotunda, and the chamber beyond, carrying armfuls of scrolls. He dumped them on the judge's stone table and scurried off without another word. The judge made to pick up one of the documents, but paused; it was sticking to another scroll. He frowned and pulled them apart, noticing that a pearly residue was the source of the problem. Worse, the scroll pages became slippery as he tried to pry them apart. The sticky substance was all over them. And his fingers now. He quietly put the parchments down and shoved them aside. Once the judge had composed himself, clearly livid about the circus his courtroom had become, and once Mark was facing him again, he leaned in and asked a question. "Do you have anything to say before your sentence is pronounced?" "Don't you think this is enough of a sham that we should just get it over with?" Mark grumbled. "What?" the judge asked, confused. "I said, how about you get this show on the road, because thousands of my potential children have a date with your mom's face tonight!" Mark snapped, jerking slightly. What the absolute fuck was happening? He wasn't speaking Latin anymore, he was speaking Greek! "You mock us by speaking Greek?" demanded the judge, rising from his chair. "Do you seek to invalidate this court?" "This court is full of invalids already!" Mark raged, the chip inside his head sputtering. Apparently one of the blows to his head had made it misfire. "Get your mother out here already! And your daughter too!" The judge slumped back on his stone chair, as if stunned by what Mark was saying. Everyone in the court was silent, waiting to see what happened next. He turned to Domitia, who was restrained nearby. "Domitia, former daughter of the Flavian household

Qasem Waleed is a 28-year-old physicist who has lived in Gaza his whole life. In 2024, he joined a chorus of Palestinians sharing videos and pictures and writing about the chaos and violence they were living through, as Israel's military bombardment devastated their lives. But Qasem was trying to describe his reality through the lens of the most notoriously confusing and inscrutable field of science ever, quantum mechanics. We talked to him, from a cafe near the Al-Mawasi section of Gaza, to find out why. And over the course of several conversations, he told us how this reality-breaking corner of science has helped him survive. And how such unspeakable violence actually let him understand, in a visceral way, quantum mechanics' most counter-intuitive ideas. Special thanks to Katya Rogers, Karim Kattan, Allan Adams, Sarah Qari, Soren Wheeler, and Pat WaltersEPISODE CREDITS: Reported by - Lulu MillerProduced by - Jessica Yungwith mixing help from - Jeremy BloomFact-checking by - Emily Kreigerand Edited by  - Alex NeasonEPISODE CITATIONS:Videos - A Brief History of Quantum Mechanics with Sean Carroll, The Royal Institution (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hVmeOCJjOU)Introduction to Superposition, with MIT's Allan Adams (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZ3bPUKo5zc)The Quantum Wavefunction, Explained (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOI4DlWQ_1w)Articles - Read a selection of Qasem's published essays about his life in Gaza and the quantum world: I am stuck in a box like Schrodinger's in Gaza (https://zpr.io/ALDVi9E5bRt8) Israel has turned Gaza's summer into a weapon (https://zpr.io/YS4WK4hVQC5T)The Physics of Death in Gaza (https://zpr.io/hxsgxicVqPAd) Signup for our newsletter!! It includes short essays, recommendations, and details about other ways to interact with the show. Sign up (https://radiolab.org/newsletter)!Radiolab is supported by listeners like you. Support Radiolab by becoming a member of The Lab (https://members.radiolab.org/) today.Follow our show on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook @radiolab, and share your thoughts with us by emailing radiolab@wnyc.org.Leadership support for Radiolab's science programming is provided by the Simons Foundation and the John Templeton Foundation. Foundational support for Radiolab was provided by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation.

We're SO THRILLED to bring you your next favorite audio drama: The Harbingers by Gabriel Urbina and Audacious Machine Creative. Go subscribe on your podcatcher of choice, and find more information at https://www.audaciousmachinecreative.comEpisode details Adam Blackwell is the most powerful man in the world. But he hasn't always been. Five years ago he was just a humble grad student at Sinclair University. How did he go from a nobody to the world's first modern magician? And once he got that power, what has he done with it?Be advised: This episode contains depictions of drinking and smoking, as well as strong language and discussions of politics. It also contains mentions, though not depictions, of violence, death, war crimes, the Holocaust, and a large-scale disaster. Listener discretion is advised. The Harbingers was created by Gabriel Urbina. Today's episode was written by Gabriel Urbina, directed and sound designed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, and executive produced by Eleanor Hyde. It featured the voices of Andrés Enriquez as Adam Blackwell, Lauren Grace Thompson as Amy Stirling, Emmy Bean as Claudia Skinner, and Kristen DiMercurio as Erica Pfeiffer. It also featured the voice of Olivia Love-Hatlestad. The original music for the series is by Nicholas Podany, and the original art is by Cassie J. Allen. Recording engineering and dialogue editing by Zhuolin Wu. This is an Audacious Machine production. Music for Wil's intro to the episode is "Physics" by Ketsa. We love you Ketsa! https://ketsamusic.com

In this episode, we try to make the concept of tacit knowledge explicit. How much of our scientific knowledge depends on knowledge that we can't communicate directly? How can we replicate studies, if they might rely on tacit knowledge? And why has the concept itself not been made more explicit in the last 45 years? Enjoy.    Collins, H. (2012). Tacit and Explicit Knowledge. University of Chicago Press. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo8461024.html  Franklin, A., & Collins, H. (2016). Two Kinds of Case Study and a New Agreement. In T. Sauer & R. Scholl (Eds.), The Philosophy of Historical Case Studies (pp. 95–121). Springer International Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-30229-4_6  Polanyi, M. (1966). The Tacit Dimension. University of Chicago Press. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo6035368.html Collins, H. M. (1975). The Seven Sexes: A Study in the Sociology of a Phenomenon, or the Replication of Experiments in Physics. Sociology, 9(2), 205–224. https://doi.org/10.1177/003803857500900202  Gerholm, T. (1990). On Tacit Knowledge in Academia. European Journal of Education, 25(3), 263–271. https://doi.org/10.2307/1503316 

In this episode, Conor and Bryce record live from C++ Under the Sea! We interview Ray and Paul from NVIDIA, talk about Parrot, scans and more!Link to Episode 260 on WebsiteDiscuss this episode, leave a comment, or ask a question (on GitHub)SocialsADSP: The Podcast: TwitterConor Hoekstra: Twitter | BlueSky | MastodonBryce Adelstein Lelbach: TwitterAbout the Guests:Ray is a Senior Systems Software Engineer at NVIDIA since 2022. Studied Software Engineering at the University of Amsterdam. Founded the Dutch C++ Meetup in 2013 and co-organizes C++ Under the Sea since 2023. He has been programming for more than 25 years, his journey began on his father's Panasonic CF-2700 MSX--and has been hooked ever since. He is also 'the listener' of ADSP the podcast.Paul Grosse-Bley was first introduced to parallel programming with C+MPI at a student exchange to Umeå (Sweden) in 2017 while studying Physics. In the following years he learned more about MPI, OpenMP, OpenACC, Thrust/parSTL and CUDA C++. After finishing his Master's degree in Physics at Heidelberg University (Germany) in 2021, he became a PhD candidate in Computational Science and Engineering researching the acceleration of iterative solvers in sparse linear algebra while being head-tutor for a course on GPU Algorithm Design. He learned using Thrust in 2019 shortly before learning C++ and became enamored with parallel algorithms which led to numerous answers on StackOverflow, contributions on GitHub, his NVIDIA internship in the summer of 2025 and full position starting in February of 2026.Show NotesDate Recorded: 2025-10-10Date Released: 2025-11-14NVIDIA BCM (Base Command Manager)C++11 std::ignoreC++20 std::bind_frontParrotParrot on GitHubParrot Youtube Video: 1 Problem, 7 Libraries (on the GPU)thrust::inclusive_scanSingle-pass Parallel Prefix Scan with Decoupled Look-back by Duane Merrill & Michael GarlandPrefix Sums and Their Applications by Guy BlellochParallel Prefix Sum (Scan) with CUDANVIDIA ON-Demand VideosA Faster Radix Sort ImplementationIntro Song InfoMiss You by Sarah Jansen https://soundcloud.com/sarahjansenmusicCreative Commons — Attribution 3.0 Unported — CC BY 3.0Free Download / Stream: http://bit.ly/l-miss-youMusic promoted by Audio Library

In this episode of HOOS in STEM, we speak with Kent Yagi, UVA Professor of Physics, whose work explores the deepest mysteries of gravity and spacetime. From Einstein's century-old prediction of gravitational waves to their first detection in 2015, Yagi has been testing general relativity at cosmic scales. His discoveries connecting neutron stars, black holes, and the ripples of spacetime are helping redefine our understanding of the universe itself.

Dan Nystedt, vice president of research at Tri-Orient Investments, joins us to discuss the Asian tech scene: geopolitical tensions and Taiwan's role, rivalries in chip manufacturing and AI, complexities of the global tech supply chain, and China's rare earth dominance and geopolitical impact. [audio mp3="https://orionx.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/105@HPCpodcast_ID_Dan-Nystedt_Chips-AI-China_20251113.mp3"][/audio] The post @HPCpodcast-105: Dan Nystedt on Chips, China, AI Tech appeared first on OrionX.net.

Do Aliens Speak Physics?: And Other Questions about Science and the Nature of Reality (Whiteson & Warner, 2025) is a mind-bending exploration into what it would mean, scientifically and philosophically, for humans to communicate with an extraterrestrial intelligence through the language of physics. Daniel Whiteson, a particle physicist, and Andy Warner tackle deep questions: Are concepts like "number," "space," "time," and "laws of nature" universal, or are they shaped by our biology, culture, and perception? What assumptions do we make that might not translate to a species evolved under utterly different conditions? The book pushes us to examine where physics ends and human perspective begins, to reflect on whether alien minds might think mathematics differently, sense reality differently, or have radically different "basic science." Join us on SETI Live as communications specialist Beth Johnson speaks with co-author Daniel Whiteson about the surprising places he found ambiguity, what assumptions underlie science as we know it, and what our notion of physics might reveal — or blind us to — when grappling with alien intelligence. Learn more about the book: https://sites.uci.edu/alienphysics/ (Recorded live 16 October 2025.)

The Time Riders: Part 6 An Orgy In Imperial Rome. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Another Time Excursion. "How's your head?" Becky asked as they walked down the hallway, gazing in wonder at the ornate mosaic that covered the floor and stretched ahead of them. The walls, no doubt made of brick, were covered in plaster, upon which colorful (and often erotic) frescoes were painted. While the clothing she was wearing in theory resembled the stola and other clothes worn by Roman women, hers was considerably abbreviated, if not downright scandalous. The white garment hung off her sensual curves, spilling away from her voluptuous tits, which could be seen through the mostly diaphanous material. Gold bracelets and bangles adorned her arms and a thin gold chain with tiny jewels sat on her ankle. She was wearing her golden-blonde hair up atop her head, but playful wisps and curls hung down in places, giving it a sassy and almost playful look. A gold-colored belt cinched in at her tiny waist, making her bust look even bigger. Mark grimaced and lightly thumped the heel of his palm against the side of his head, as if trying to jar his brain loose. "It kinda hurts, to be honest, like a buzzing headache," he muttered, waiting for his eye to stop twitching. "Who'd have thought getting advanced cybernetics installed in your noggin would hurt?" "Oh, come now, you're hardly Steve Austin," Becky chided, smiling at his outfit while they walked. "It was just a little bio-chip installed into your Broca's area to help you get by quickly with the whole language thing." "Well, if Latin is supposed to sound like the white noise on a grandpa TV combined with a mosquito buzzing in your ear, then it's working," Mark groused, wiggling his jaw to see if opening up his ear canals helped at all in getting rid of this unwelcome phenomenon. "How long did they say it usually lasted?" "Just an hour," Becky replied, stopping and fiddling with Mark's tunic, adjusting it to show off his handsome physique to best effect. The simple leather belt hung loosely on his small waist, more for contrast than anything. He was wearing very simple sandals on his feet. She hadn't had to do very much to his dark hair to achieve the look she wanted, merely tousling it after rubbing in a little olive oil, making it wavy and pleasing to look at. "Should stop any time now." And as if acceding to the lovely woman's request, the buzzing and throbbing stopped suddenly. Mark's eyes widened slightly at the sudden quiet inside his cranial grape. Becky saw his expression change and smiled, knowing what had happened. "Hmm," she purred, tracing a finger down his form and over his cock beneath his period clothes. "Estne volumen in tunica, an solum tibi libet me videre?" Mark grinned, understanding what she had said. "Ego sum laetus video vidi te!" he replied readily. "Well, I know you're happy to see these;” Becky whispered, leaning close and using a finger to tug down the edge of her barely-there clothing and exposing her tit to him, the pink nipples begging for his attention. "But;” she said, replacing the clothing and standing up again, "; we're here to take part in a Roman orgy, so we'd best get moving now that you're feeling better." Mark exhaled, composing himself after her tease, and nodded. "All right. So what's the drill again?" "Your name is Bonosus," Becky instructed, touching up his outfit again. "You're a slave from Spain, meaning that you have no rights. But don't worry, I own you, and I am very specific about who can do what with you." "So, no guy is gonna try and fuck me in the ass, right?" Mark asked somewhat nervously, smiling. Becky smiled: "Pity you won't try it, you might like it. However, no, I'll simply explain that you're off-limits to men, because you're being saved for my uncle, who is away on the German border. Me, I'm a patrician woman, visiting Rome, and I'm looking for a good time. My name is Aurora. If you really need my attention and are worried about speaking in Latin, we'll speak in English, quietly. Got it?" "Okay, what should I expect?" he queried. "I did a little research, looking for who had a reputation for throwing orgies and parties that tended to bring out the morals police," she answered, adjusting her own outfit now. Neither of them was wearing undergarments, and if the light caught the bottom portion of her so-called dress just right, Mark could see her cunt. "This villa is far enough on the outskirts of Rome that we're very unlikely to get a visit." She leaned back against the wall, smiling saucily as she drew him into her, their pelvises pressing together as she looked up at him. "So we're going to go in there, and fuck, and fuck, and fuck, with anyone and everyone we choose," she whispered in his ear. "Fuck every single girl that catches your fancy, Mark. Those anacept pills we took will cover us against all known transmitted diseases for a week, and they make us temporarily infertile. No consequences. And the tiny tabs on our skin will keep our libidos from flagging for a whole day." "That sounds great," he agreed, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Really great." "Mark, I am going to behave like I haven't since my wildest nights in college," Becky said softly, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair as she looked up into his eyes. He could feel her breathing getting heavy. She was really turned on by what they were about to do. "Are you sure you're prepared to see me like that?" Mark nodded: "I don't own you, Becks. We're time travel partners, and damned good ones. It's not like we're in love. Do what you like, I promise, it's fine." "Hmm, just when I thought you couldn't get more attractive;” she purred, pulling him in for a deep kiss while they leaned against the wall. She broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Do' you remember where all our supplies are, in case things happen to go south?" Mark nodded again. "Back in the little vestibule near the servants' rooms. I remember. Now let's do this; Mistress Aurora." "God, I could get used to hearing that," Becky sighed, shivering as she straightened up and prepared herself. "Remember; lots of drinking, eating, music, dancing and fucking. Do whatever the Hell feels good tonight, Mark, this is a real Roman orgy." She took him by the hand and smiled wickedly. "Now let's go get 'em, tiger;” Mark was laughing and drinking wine from a silver goblet, while watching a group of slave girls dance in the middle of the floor. The girls, who were clearly from all around the Empire, were whirling and cavorting about while drums and cymbals clashed out a rhythmic beat for them to follow. They wore sheer material draping down from their waists between their legs, and nothing else. Their tits bounced and jiggled about as they twirled about one another, letting out sensuous calls on occasion. The hosts of the day's festivities, a patrician man named Flavius and his lovely wife Pompeneia, were very wealthy, and they owned over five hundred slaves, spread out among three separate properties spaced around the capital. Mark had even heard tell that they owned land in Egypt and Byzantium. Wealthy indeed. There were nearly fifty proper guests, excluding slaves and attendants, so the place was fairly bustling with people. Patricians, plebeians, freedmen, freedwomen and slaves, all were to enjoy themselves tonight. And all at the request of the guest of honor, the stunning Aurora of the fabled Horatius family. Mark pried his eyes away from the dancing girls long enough to look around for his 'mistress'. He finally espied her, lying stretched out on a lectus, along with their hostess, Pompeneia, hungrily swallowing one another's tongue while they groped each other. Against all odds, 'Aurora' still had her clothes on, although only barely. Mistress Horatia Aurora had, as guest of honor, requested that in the name of the goddess Feronia, that the slaves be allowed to celebrate tonight as well, free of consequence, as long as they also performed their assigned duties. If not actively seeing to an assignment, they were allowed to sit, although they had to accede their seat to anyone of a higher station who needed it. They would also still oblige guests who wished to be serviced by the slave in question, and the Flavius household's slaves were all available to anyone who attended. Mark looked back at the dance now, seeing that it was winding down, with the girls letting out calls that there supposed to represent cranes or herons crying out for mates. That was an invitation for anyone inclined to come and take them once the dance had ended. They all fell still in various poses as the drums and cymbals stopped and the room erupted in applause and cheers for their efforts. Mark smiled as one bronze-skinned beauty on the floor caught his eye. As the dancers dispersed into the crowd, she slowly walked over to him, her deep hazel eyes liquid with passion. Mark greeted her with a cup of wine, offering it to her. "I thank you," she said in a heavy accent, her Latin speech seeming formal. "Tonight is a special night indeed, is it not?" Mark paused for a half second as the tiny chip in his brain listened to what she was saying and translated it for him. Weirder still, it translated what she was saying in her voice, but in English. Her English voice sounded quite amazing to him, and he felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at her body. He thought of how to respond, the translation coming to him readily, in his voice, so that he knew how to sound when he said it. This technology blew his mind, somewhat literally. "Yeah," he replied in Latin, nodding as he clinked his silver goblet against hers. "I am enjoying it. You dance very well." "I have to," she replied, using two hands to bring the goblet up to her lips and sipping from it, as if she'd never had wine before. Hell, maybe she hadn't for all he knew. "If a dancer does not dance well in the Flavius household, demotion to some other task, probably much more horrible, awaits them. I need to be a good dancer, if I am to keep my coveted position." "I'm sure your masters have many coveted positions where you're concerned," Mark quipped, smirking. The girl blushed and giggled, taking another sip of her wine and looked at him. "You are slave to the Mistress Aurora, yes?" Mark nodded: "I am." "What is it like to be her slave?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. Mark was the tallest person in the room, and it wasn't going unnoticed. Becky was certainly the tallest woman, but he'd heard her jest about having German barbarians in her ancestry. Everyone laughed it off, and the party continued. Mark considered for a moment before answering. "Well, I like it a lot. Sure beats the life I was living before I became her slave." "Are you her only slave?" queried the girl, clearly more than a little intrigued. She didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that every time he wasn't speaking, Mark's eyes went down to her tits. They weren't as big as Becky's by any means, but they were still very nice, her soft light brown skin capped with darker brown aureoles and pronounced nipples. "Well, no," he lied, thinking on his feet. He hadn't really expected any questions along this line and would have to tell Becky whatever he said, so they could coordinate their stories if the matter came up. "I'm not really any good at counting, but there's always a lot of us around." "What do you do for her?" Shit, better make this simple but good; he thought to himself. "I'm her personal servant. I do all the most personal and intimate things for her. I dress her, I taste her food for her, I bathe her;” "Do you fuck her?" she inquired, looking over the rim of her silver cup as she took another drink, a deeper one this time. So this was the crux question, he realized. He simply nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh," she said in a quiet voice, as if his words were of concern for her. "Do; do her other servants fuck her?" He smirked: "None of the male ones, now that she's got me." She raised her eyebrow at his statement and took another drink. "Is that so?" Mark shook his head for a moment, as if he was remembering something. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude, I didn't ask your name." The girl made a wry face. "My name? Why would anyone ask for my name? I am a slave." Mark shrugged. "Well, so am I. Tell me your name, so I know what I'll be calling out in an hour." The girl almost choked on her wine, but recovered and looked up at him, as if assessing him. Finally she spoke: "Before I became a slave, my name was Nanu." Mark wasn't terribly surprised when the stupid chip in his head found out what the name meant. "So you're Egyptian and your name means 'pretty' or 'cute.'" She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to fathom how he could have possibly known that. "What is your mistress' name in my language?" she asked suspiciously. Mark blinked for a moment. "Khepri nebet." She moved closer to him. "What is your name, slave?" He smiled at her warmly, deciding it was time to move things along. "My name is Bonosus, Nanu, and I am the slave who is going to fuck you." Nanu smiled and reached out a hand to him. Becky panted as she rocked back and forth on her knees, pressing her face into her hostess' hairy cunt, lashing it with her tongue. Behind her, one of Pompeneia's slaves was gripping her hips and plowing his hard cock in and out of Becky, trying to keep up with her lusty pace. He wasn't nearly as large as Mark, nor was he as talented, but he would make her cum, given the environment. Becky was here to fuck in a Roman orgy, and what individual participants might lack in skill, her excitement would certainly make up for. Pompeneia moaned and gripped Becky's hair, loosening it further from its carefully piled arrangement. Becky didn't mind, though, as she expected to look fully disheveled and thoroughly fucked by the time this orgy was over. She'd had several cups of aged wine already and was feeling uninhibited, even for her. She slid two fingers inside her hostess, making her moan and churn her matronly hips while Becky took another stiff drink from her goblet. She then returned her mouth to Pompeneia's snatch, allowing rivulets of the dark wine to flow out over her engorged vulva before sucking on it hungrily, making the patrician woman gasp and groan loudly and thrash about on the lectus she was splayed on. The slave behind her pistoned his hips against her while she ground back against him, taking his cock as deep inside her as she could. She could feel him swelling and knew he was close to cumming, but she didn't mind if she didn't climax yet, because the day was young, and this orgy had barely started. There were so many people left to fuck. Besides, she could always track down her darling Mark if she needed serious attention, after all. The slave grunted and let out a low moan before he began spurting his cum inside her. Becky moaned into Pompeneia's cunt, sending her over the edge and making her cum shamelessly, her fat tits flopping about for all to see. Nobody cared, or if they did, they were delighted by it. There was no judgment at this orgy. As the slave pulled out, Becky clambered on top of Pompeneia and they kissed deeply, wrapping their arms around one another, tongues plunging. Becky finally sat up, smiling and straddling her hostess' hips. She smirked down at the Roman woman and then reached beneath herself, flexing her cunt muscles and teasing out the cum that the slave had just deposited in her. She smeared it all over Pompeneia's thatch and nether lips, before dragging her shaved twat up her lover's body, leaving a glistening and sticky trail of cum along the way. She squirmed and writhed on Pompeneia's tits, smearing them in the slave's essence while trying to get one of the nipples inside her cunt. Finally she wiggled her way up to Pompeneia's mouth, and the older woman gripped Becky's thighs and sucked on her smooth cunt hungrily, coaxing out all the cum she could from her guest. Becky smiled and reached back with one hand to finger Pompeneia's gooey cunt, bringing her to yet another climax, the fourth she'd received from Becky. The teacher had no doubt this woman would remember her very fondly. She finally clambered off Pompeneia and knelt beside her, the two of them kissing tenderly, sharing the cum from the slave between them, followed by Becky licking the residue off her lover's face. They whispered to one another before Becky stood and strutted away, knowing that Pompeneia's eyes were fixated on her glorious, toned ass. It felt good, knowing she was the object of desire for every single person in the entire household. Becky looked around in wonder, surrounded by actual Roman artwork, in a completely intact home with a glorious mosaic tile floor depicting a couple making love and then a hunting scene involving a lion. The plastered walls were painted in bright colors. The furniture, made of wood with brass fittings and comfortable cushions, was currently being put to the test as couples or groups around her fucked and made love in every conceivable position. She gazed down at the silver goblet in her hand, made of beaten silver and decorated with glass prisms and with a poem etched into its circumference. She picked up a small, sticky honey cake from a table, then took a bite from it before smiling wickedly and pressing it to her glorious tits, smearing the sticky honey all over them. As a female slave passed by, Becky took her gently by the arm and pulled her into an embrace, gently pushing her head down. The slave understood immediately and began kissing her tits, slithering her tongue around to get the gooey sweetness off Becky. The blonde woman was shivering and groaning while already smearing the honey cake against her cunt. Mark was sitting on in a low chair in a side room, holding Nanu by the waist while she bounced up and down on his lap, her arms around his shoulders and her eyes staring down into his. Her greedy cunt swallowed his cock, making her gasp and groan with each motion. Her inner muscles squeezed around him, and while Becky was definitely more skilled, and perhaps even tighter, the fact that he was actually fucking a Roman slave was an incredible thrill. She jammed her lips to his and kissed him feverishly, her fingernails raking over his back as she ground down on him, hissing and panting with lust. He found her to be incredibly exotic, and he realized that it might because he'd never met a true ethnic Egyptian before. As far as he knew, the bloodline of the ancient Egyptians had become extinct. She certainly looked exotic to him, with her deeply tan skin, hazel eyes and straight, coal-black hair. He used his strong arms to help move her up and down, almost spiking her on his cock, and her panting became a delightful yelping. There were loud cries of ecstasy from all over the house, so they paid no attention to anything else. She kissed him again before seizing up and shuddering, groaning loudly. She threw her head back and pressed her cunt down as hard as she could, cumming wildly. Mark kept pumping relentlessly, loving how her snatch clenched around him. Nanu flopped backward, her head now on the floor, arms splayed and her back arched, still pinned to Mark by his cock. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed heavily, still trembling. He smiled down at the girl, waiting for her to recover. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he took her arms and gently pulled her up to him. She almost purred and nuzzled against him, still in the throes of a sultry bliss that filled her. Nanu kissed him everywhere she could reach, including his fingertips. "You are an exquisite lover," she murmured, looking deep into his eyes and caressing his face. "No wonder your mistress needs only you for fucking." He smiled back: "I'm just happy that she doesn't mind sharing me, because I am enjoying fucking you too." She went back to kissing him gently, and was whispering things against his skin, but too softly for him to understand. She finally looked back up at him. "But you have not yet cum." Mark shook his head. "Do you fear giving me a child?" Nanu asked. He shook his head again. "Then are you barren?" "Only for this week," he quipped, grinning and enjoying her confusion at his statement. "Don't worry, I'm just conserving my strength. This orgy is a long way from over, and if I cum now, I don't know how long it will take me to recover." "Do you promise to cum in me?" Nanu asked expectantly. "I; I am just a slave, I know, but I like you, Bonosus. I want to feel your cum in me, especially if you cannot give me a child." "I think I can make that promise;” Mark replied, pulling her in for another kiss. Becky shivered as she sat on the stone bench, centered over a hole as she started to pee. She'd already cum at least six times, and she had the distinct feeling the tally would be sixty before the night was out. One woman and one man slave leaned down on either side of her and began sliding and flickering their tongues around her rock-hard nipples, making her moan in delight. She felt her legs being parted and smiled down at a freedwoman who leaned in and tongued her cunt attentively, even here in the cultus, the small, private bathroom of the Flavius family. Becky sighed and cradled the head of the woman licking her cunt, while squirming her tits against the mouths of the two slaves sucking them. The tongue of the woman between her legs sent tingles through her, and she could feel another climax building rapidly. Everything about this setting, this experience, was making her hornier and more sensitive than ever. She wrapped her arms around the necks of the man and woman sucking on her nipples and pulled them in tight, arching her back and groaning very loudly as she came, squirting into the face of the woman licking her cunt. She bucked and writhed on the seat, thankful for the anacept pills she and Mark had taken, since she'd done quite a bit of research on Roman hygiene practices. She stood finally, releasing the two slaves who were sucking on her tits, while the girl between her legs merely knelt back a little and kept her mouth pressed to Becky's cunt, massaging it with her tongue. Becky smiled down at her dreamily and winked before pulling her to her feet. They kissed deeply and then she led her out of the room, followed by the slaves. "Go and find my manservant for me," Becky instructed. "Bring him to me and I'll let him fuck you. He is a wonderful lover." The woman hurried off, while Becky found a couch and reclined, her legs spread wide. She let the male slave lap at her gooey cunt while she made out with the female. She felt so deliciously depraved in this setting, like she could let everything go and act like a harlot without consequence. Which she could. The freedwoman returned some minutes later (Becky barely remembered having sent her at this point), with Mark following. He was delightfully naked, his cock glistening with lubrication. He was holding the hand of a dark-skinned and dark-haired girl, who was clearly a slave and following behind him. The girl gaped at Becky in awe. "Hey, Becks," Mark said cheerfully in English, almost laughing as the chip in his noggin tried to translate what he was saying into Latin. "Enjoying yourself?" "Hmm, you have no idea, baby," the blonde woman purred, stretching her arms over her head so that her glorious tits thrust up toward the ceiling. "I see you've found yourself a pretty little playmate. She was one of the dancers from earlier, right?" "Yeah, I wanna see if I can somehow get all eight to fuck me at once," Mark replied, grinning. "That'll beat my record by at least a factor of; wait; you, Alexandra and her servant Lisette all at once; divided into eight;” "Don't strain yourself, Einstein," Becky said dryly. "Just suffice to say that fucking eight Roman slave-dancers at once will be more than anyone else you know will ever accomplish." "Except you, I'm betting," Mark pointed out, smirking. "Is that a challenge, young man?" Becky asked, raising her eyebrow. "What'll we wager?" he queried. He had no particular confidence that he could outfuck his Physics teacher, because she had proven to be quite a sex fiend, but he was more than willing to try, here in Imperial Rome. "Tell you what;” Becky suggested, sitting up on the couch at looking up at him, smiling lightly. "If I win, you have to let the man of my choice here in this orgy fuck you in the ass." Mark was very still, a shiver of dread going up his spine. He swallowed, waiting to hear what else she had to say. "But, if you manage to fuck more girls at one time than I take of male and female lovers at one time, I'll buy your cute little girlfriend from our host and make her ours, okay?" Mark could barely process what he was hearing. He turned his head and stared at Nanu, weighing the price of 'owning' her versus having his ass plowed by some random Roman dude. The perils of time travel. But he'd already been shot and survived, right? "You're on, Becks," he said finally. "Ya' only live once, right?" "That's the spirit," she cooed, winking at him. "Tu solum vivis unum tempus! As long as you save some of that splendid stamina and cum of yours for me. So, are you going to introduce me to your little friend?" Mark nodded and pulled the Egyptian girl forward. She seemed rather intimidated. "Becks, this is Nanu. She's Egyptian." Becky smiled kindly and patted her soft lap. Nanu let go of Mark's hand and eased herself carefully onto the blonde goddess' lap, sitting sideways. Becky put her arms around the girl's waist and looked her up and down. "Hmm, very nice, Mark;” Becky said quietly before pulling Nanu gently into her and kissing her warmly. To her credit, the slave girl did not resist at all, but melted into the kiss, moaning in pleasure. She squirmed around until she was straddling Becky, her legs hitched behind her back, and their tits squashed together. Mark stood closer and watched eagerly as their tongues tangled and they began caressing and fondling one another. Nanu shivered under Becky's divine touch, and he knew she was incredibly aroused already. Their kiss became sloppy, and they slid their tongues around one another's faces, leaving them glistening and sticky. Becky took Nanu's bottom lip in her mouth, sucking it in. The slave shivered again and let out a tiny whimper, before pulling back from the kiss and touching her fingers to the lip. She examined the fingers, noticing a trace of blood. "Yes, I bit your lip," Becky whispered to her only loud enough for Nanu and Mark to hear. "By making you bleed from our kiss, I have stated my intent to own you, Nanu. Would you like that?" Nanu's eyes widened and she nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good," Becky said, reaching between them and cupping the Egyptian girl's tit, giving it a gentle feel. "Now all my naughty little Bonosus has to do is manage to fuck all eight of you dancing girls at once in order to make that happen. You might want to help him a little;” She allowed the slave girl to stand and gave her a gentle pat on the rear. Nanu stood in front of Mark for a moment, looking up at him, and then hurried off. He then heard Becky giggling. "Goodness, Mark, how hard did you fuck her to make her fall that much in love with you already?" the blonde asked, her beautiful blue eyes glinting with mirth. Mark tried not to frown. "I didn't have to fuck her that hard, thank you. I've fucked you a lot harder on countless occasions." "And you'll have to fuck me much harder still to make me fall in love with you, handsome," she cooed, reaching out and stroking his cock gently. "It's time for my surprise. Have you put the little speaker things all around?" Mark nodded: "The switch to activate them and the music is in the little satchel we brought. I'll be ready." Becky smiled and stood up, moving close to Mark so that their bodies were pressing and his cock was nestled against her slick cunt, and already hardening from the contact. She smiled and traced a finger along his swelling cock while looking up into his eyes. "I'm glad to be here, Mark," she said softly, knowing that many sets of eyes were on them, and quite envious of them both. "But I'm mostly glad to be here sharing this with you. I couldn't have asked for a better time travel partner." They kissed tenderly for a moment before Becky pulled back and winked. "I'm gonna go get dressed; be ready for me." She scampered off, and he watched her magnificent ass wiggle away from him. He noticed he wasn't the only one staring. He wandered around and made sure that all the 'speakers' were strategically placed around the room for Becky's performance. They looked and felt like rocks, to be honest, so he had no idea how they worked. All he knew was that he'd tested them, and they did. Hell, they even had the music they were meant to play stored in them! Future-tech was really something. He remembered how they'd found a chrono-merchant, right in his hometown, in a secluded store he'd never noticed before. Chester had pointed them to the merchant in question, and he was happy to help them. Most of his time was spent helping customers from the far future, who happened to be visiting Mark and Becky's era, so having some locals was a refreshing change for him. The student and teacher had expressed their wish to go back to Imperial Rome and attend a real orgy. The man smiled slyly and showed them a range of items he thought they might need; clothing, currency, subtle but advanced medications to protect themselves; All it cost Mark was his collection of six vintage Star Wars Pez dispensers. Apparently, originals were big collector's items in the future. "Remind me to come back to you with my dad's Micronauts and Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots!" Mark had laughed. Mark felt well-prepared for this trip, and he had to admit, he was enjoying himself. He drank from his wine while standing in front of a patrician woman, who was sitting naked on a couch and slurping hungrily back and forth on his cock. He gazed around, noting the sumptuous array of foods laid out in vast quantities for the event; it was very hard for many of the slaves to restrain themselves from eating greedily, since this type of generosity was almost unknown to them. Loaves of bread, honey-cakes, dates, figs, stuffed dormice, varieties of pulses, apricots, various fish, cheeses, boar meat, olives, and caviar, which he'd heard the hostess Pompeneia brag to Becky about being sent straight from Persia. He'd never tried caviar before, and he was surprised that he actually liked it. He blinked as he felt the patrician woman pull her mouth off his throbbing cock, which she had brought back to an impressive hardness. She had then bent over the couch, in full view of everyone in the room, and shamelessly reached back and spread her ass cheeks, exposing her puckered knot and asking him to fuck her ass. Mark bit his lip, wondering what to do; Becky wouldn't be much longer in getting ready, but slaves were obliged to satisfy all favors required of them by the legitimate guests, especially the higher-ranking patricians. He couldn't say no. He stepped up and took hold of her wobbly ass cheeks, steadying his cock against her. She moaned in anticipation of him entering her. He reached down and ran his hand up and down her sloppy cunt for several seconds, and used that lubrication to prepare her ass, sticking his index finger inside her and twisting it around. The woman groaned loudly, and he realized that she was making a show of it, announcing that she was the one getting fucked by this tall, handsome and mysterious Spanish slave of Lady Aurora's. Apparently he was something of a commodity. He would fuck her ass fast and hard, making her cum, so that he could return to his assignment from Becky. He took hold of his cock and pressed the head against her little star, pushing it through. She grunted and let out a moan. Lots of people were watching, including more than a few slaves. Slowly and firmly, Mark slid his turgid phallus deep inside her, making her cry out so loudly that he was certain she could be heard outside the villa, despite all the other carnal happenings around them. Here goes nothing; He gripped her hips and leaned over her, pressing her down into the couch as she wailed again. He began pumping in and out strongly, plowing deep inside her. Clearly she was no stranger to this, because she wasn't nearly as tight as Becky. He fucked her ass in a steady rhythm, watching as his own pulsing shaft slid in and out of her. She gasped and yelped, putting on a show for those watching. Her hands kept her ass cheeks pulled wide, so everyone could see how deep inside her Mark was. Then he took the initiative. Everyone gasped as he let go of her hips and gripped both of her wrists, pulling back toward himself and arching her spine, even as he pressed forward into her more strongly with each stroke. The woman seemed to choke on her breath, shaking and looking back at him in shock. Her face was variously flushed and pale, depending on where one looked. Her eyes seemed bleary, as if she was on the verge of tears. Her erect nipples declared her arousal as her tits protruded far in front of her back-stretched arms. He rode her as though she was a bridled horse, only her two arm were the reins. The full floppy tits shook wildly with his aggressive pounding, grinding, fucking of her asshole. But she didn't object to his aggression or dominance. "Do you think Mistress Horatia lets him take her that way?" he heard one woman ask another as she gazed on in rapt wonder. "If she does, she's a lucky cunt, she is;” whispered the other woman in response. And still he plunged his cock deep inside her ass, making the woman squeal and churn beneath him, struggling to move, but pinned by his superior strength. He could tell that the other women (and most likely some men) were jealous, because they were beginning to talk shit about her quietly. "Qualem muleirculam!" whispered a man gazing one in envy. That seemed a little harsh; Mark wasn't sure she was actually a bimbo. A shameless slut, sure. But wasn't everyone here today? "Pedica meo!" she gasped, squeezing her ass around him. "Pedica meo!" Mark fucked her faster and stronger still, driving his cock deep into her bowels, until she sounded like she was having a severe asthma attack. She wheezed and struggled, but he held her immobilized. She could not escape this exquisite torture unless he let her. He could feel her tightening, though, and he knew she wouldn't last long; exactly what he wanted. He would make sure she got the show she desired. His hips began pistoning rapidly, but with even more strength. The woman's eyes rolled into her head and her mouth dropped open. Her entire body shuddered in a long wave, and she screeched, battered by endless waves of pleasure as the orgasm crashed over her. She clenched her teeth and writhed, as if trying to escape, but she had already completely surrendered to her blissful fate. Mark dropped her wrists and now gripped her long, kinky brown hair, yanking on it to pull her up. She gasped at the unexpected but glorious sting and found herself pulled up and back against him. His hips still pumped against her ass cheeks, sliding his cock deep within, while his strong hands began to grope and almost maul her flushed, sweaty body. Helpless before him, she allowed the violation readily, whimpering and in tears. "Es scortum obscenus vilis," he growled in her ear before biting it and making her writhe in need. "You are a vile, dirty little whore, aren't you?" "Etiam!" she gasped, as his hand gripped her chin and turned her face forcefully to look into his eyes. "Yes, I am a vile, dirty whore! Fuck me in my shame!" He fucked her until she was almost limp, and finally slid out of her ass, the abused knot pulling back along with his shaft obscenely, a fact noted and commented on by anyone close enough to see. She collapsed forward over the couch again, trembling, but saying nothing. Mark turned his body and caught the gaze of another woman, who hustled over, knelt and began sucking on his cock without question. He waited while she cleaned him dutifully before noticing Becky standing by a dark corner, watching in amusement. She raised an eyebrow and he nodded. Without further ado, he subtly retrieved the remote for the things that were supposed to be speakers, and held his arms up, beckoning everyone to gather in. As the naked crowd moved in, the host and hostess came and stood near him, smiling pleasantly. Pompeneia explained that they were now to be entertained by the guest of honor, who would be dancing for them all. As if on cue with her words, slaves around the room modified the intensity of the flames coming from the braziers that illuminated the room, making it dimmer and more sensual, except for an area in the central expanse. Mark subtly pressed a button on a tiny remote he was hiding in his hand. Music emanated from around the room from the concealed speakers. He'd remembered what the T E A agents had told him about anachronistic technologies and how they would rarely work in times or eras they were not known in, but he seemed to be getting away with it so far. It occurred to him that this meant the technologies he and Becky were using were not to be discovered. Yet. He smiled as Becky seemed to shift and ripple into view, because of the flickering brazier flames. The music, he knew, would be like nothing these people had ever heard before. True, it wasn't metal, but the arrangements and instruments would be alien. Not to mention the Phil Spector-esque 'Wall of Sound' involved. Becky had told him the song was called 'Gypsy', and she now spread her arms over the head, as diaphanous strips of translucent material curled sensuously around her lovely form, and gems glittered on her forehead and navel. Gold anklets tinkled on her feet. Mark had never seen 'Lord of the Dance' before, but watching Becky, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. As wind instruments began playing while drums and strings kept a backbeat, Becky snaked and twirled around the circular space in time with the music. Everyone watched her, rapt. Mark's eyes flicked over and he saw Nanu looking on from farther back in the room, standing atop a bench to get a better view. Her eyes were wide with awe. People were still whispering as they watched; for a patrician woman to dance this way, or even know how to dance this way, was scandalous, and they loved every second of her performance. The music grew louder and more intense as the wall of sound, a concept these people couldn't even readily grasp, filled the venereum. Becky continued her cavorting, her tits bouncing about beneath the outfit she was wearing. It was more of a tease than anything, because it concealed pretty much nothing. When she kicked high, she showed her cunt to everyone. She seemingly didn't care, or was enjoying it. Probably the latter, knowing her as he did now. The music reached a crescendo and then stopped, with Becky collapsing to a sitting position, curled in on herself. The crowd clapped, cheered and catcalled enthusiastically. Seconds later, another musical piece began, this one in a style probably more familiar to the onlookers. Mark knew it was from the soundtrack of the movie 'Alexander'. It opened with tinkling chimes and what sounded like hooting bird calls. Becky slowly rose to her feet, holding an elaborate pose. Then what sounded like four hammers striking an anvil rang across the space, followed by a frenetic drum beat. Becky broke into a wild dance, spinning and prancing about with abandon. The crowd watched spellbound as the music echoed around the room. Becky's blue eyes flashed with excitement, knowing that the revelers were enchanted by her. There was no one in this room who was not sexually enthralled with her at this very moment. Even Mark, who knew her pretty much better that anyone on this planet, at any point in history, was watching her in quiet awe. It made her wet, thinking of what he'd do to her later after watching this. As she whirled in a circle close to the crowd, she took hold of a male dancer slave, and then another, leading them in the exotic and magnetic dance she now performed. Both men were naked, and she snaked her body against them, rapidly bringing them to hardness. The crowd cheered as she flung aside the strips of fabric that concealed her body, until she was as naked as the slaves. Everyone watched in astonishment as she dropped to her knees between the two men and began hungrily sucking on their cocks, each one in turn, then finally putting them both in her mouth at once, her cheeks bulging obscenely. "In the name of Suadela," breathed Pompeneia, standing next to Mark and staring dumbly. "Your mistress is the most magnificent whore I have ever seen, Bonosus." "Yeah, she's something, all right;” Mark agreed, blown away by his teacher's depravity. He thought about how much she'd been looking forward to behaving so luridly, without the consequences of biology or moral censure. She was time-travelling, for crying out loud; could there have been a better excuse? No, if he was allowed to fuck as many women as he wanted, even all at once, Becky had the right to do whatever the Hell suited her. It was a damned fool who held her to a different standard just because she was a woman. Guys who thought like that never got women as amazing as Becky. Loser incels; The music was finally ending, and he discreetly shut off the speakers with his tiny remote. Seconds later, he felt a dainty hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at Pompeneia, who smiled at him wickedly and cocked her head, indicating she should follow him. Mark took a deep breath and gently touched the nearly-invisible tab he'd put under his armpit, thankful for the vasopressin it was releasing into his system; "Heaven," Becky thought dreamily as she rode up and down slowly, the slave cock throbbing as it slid in and out of her ass. He was lying beneath her while she faced down his legs, his strong hands massaging her toned cheeks. His legs were spread to make way for another slave who knelt in front of her, thrusting back and forth to spear his rod in and out of her cunt. She groaned around the cock that was in her mouth, the freedman who owned it standing next to her beautiful face and letting her suck him. On either side, her hands were pumping vigorously on the cocks of two more slaves. "God," she thought, "I haven't done anything this wild since Frosh Week in my sophomore year. I've missed it so;” Five men at once. No regrets, no consequences. She almost giggled as she wondered where else she might fit another. Then two hands reached around from behind and began groping her ample tits, making her moan around the cock she was sucking on. Another slave had moved up behind her and settled down onto the face of the man beneath her. His hands groped her while the slave below him did something to his ass. Becky didn't care what they did to one another; she just wanted to feel as many men on her as possible. She shuddered as her nipples were pinched and she bobbed back and forth faster on the cock in her mouth, expertly swirling her tongue around the head and the shaft. Her hands twisted gently on the skin of the cocks she was holding, while she squeezed the ones inside her. She could feel them bumping against one another, separated only by a thin membrane between her cunt and ass. She gasped and almost wheezed, because they were striking deep inside her at different angles. The slave fucking her cunt was moving at an almost horizontal angle, while the one in her ass pushed straight up. It was almost; disorienting in a way. She gently pulled the two slaves she was jerking even closer, so that she could touch their cocks together, sliding them against one another. The slave behind her with his hands on her tits moved them, shifting them to her trim stomach as she pointed the two throbbing cocks at her tits, her hands stroking them rapidly. The slaves both moaned and shuddered as they spurted their cum across the expanse of her bosom, glazing the silken skin. Seconds later, she felt the cock in her mouth throb and swell, pumping a pearly offering down her throat. She swallowed hungrily, enthralled to be living her wild days all over again. Becky cried out and shook as an orgasm blossomed through her, just the first of many she planned to have in this particular tryst. Slaves leaned in and began lapping at the cum on her tits, tongues sliding along the skin or swirling around the nipples, occasionally biting and tugging on them. She leaned back, moving the man behind her to the side as she lay on the Nubian slave beneath her, still pumping in and out of her ass. She reached up and pulled the man fucking her cunt down by the shoulders, bringing him close and kissing him, their tongues rolling and wrestling about. They were both spearing up inside her now, their thrusts beginning to sync as she groaned shamelessly, filled with an exquisite wet heat. The climax that followed seconds later rocked her to her core, but she powered through it, determined to have as many more as possible. Now she let the two men fuck her while she took another hard cock in her mouth, stretching her neck back and relaxing her throat, letting it slide back and forth inside her. She gripped the hips of the man fucking her face, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the unadulterated ecstasy flowing through her, needing more men to pleasure her; Mark was sitting back lazily in the shallow pool that dominated the palaestra of the Flavian villa. He gazed around at the ornate courtyard, surrounded by columns and burgeoning with ornamental plants and trees. Exotic animals like peacocks could be seen strutting across the grass; at least, they could where none of the orgy's attendees were making merry. He sighed as a dancer girl knelt behind him and massaged his shoulders, while two others were curled up against his sides, cooing and kissing his skin. Nanu, meanwhile, was sitting in his lap, facing out and moving up and down slowly on his cock, taking it deep inside herself, her fingers flexing against his supple thighs. She turned her head to look back at him, her hazel eyes glassy with pleasure. More of her fellow dancers crowded in, until he felt himself totally enveloped in wanton slave flesh. They kissed and nipped at his skin, giggling and whispering to one another. Mark knew he was supposed to be a slave, but he seemed to be getting better treatment than a lot of the guests who weren't slaves. He imagined it was because he was the manservant of the guest of honor, but he still felt like a king at the moment. One girl dangled rich grapes in front of his mouth and he bit several off, chewing and swallowing casually. Another then brought a cup of wine to his lips and he drank from it before she leaned in and kissed him, allowing the wine to flow back and forth between their mouths. As she pulled back from the kiss, she allowed the wine to spill out of her mouth, trickling down her neck and tits. Two other girls immediately leaned in and began licking the sweet offering from her skin. Nearby, on a well-cushioned couch, Lady Pompeneia was lying on her side, quite naked, moaning as her husband propped one of her legs in the air and knelt between them, sawing his cock in and out of his wife. She drank from her goblet and watched her slaves attend to Bonosus. She closed her eyes and rubbed one of her tits as she remembered what it had felt like to have his big, sturdy cock fucking her less than an hour ago, feeling his thick, warm cum pump deep inside her. She wondered how wonderful it must be to own a servant with these incredible qualities and envied Lady Aurora. She entertained the absurd notion of trying to buy him from her, but was reasonably certain that even the emperor himself wasn't rich enough to purchase the slave outright. She'd content herself with becoming friends with Lady Aurora Horatia and perhaps then having access to Bonosus' fine obelisk of endless erotic pleasures. She watched as Nanu, churning on Bonosus' lap, shuddered, arched her back and cried out, cumming hard. Two of the other dancers were sucking her tits and she seemed in ecstasy. Not that Pompeneia blamed her; Nanu was rather tiny, and that magnificent cock had to be battering the bottom of her lungs. The Egyptian girl sagged, and one of the other dancers gently pulled her off and over to the side. Nanu was immediately replaced by another girl, who straddled Bonosus' lap, facing him and sinking down with a loud sigh. Pompeneia herself shuddered and gripped her tit tightly as a little orgasm shivered through her, while her husband moaned and pushed tight against her, cumming in her. Standing nearby, a slave helped ease his master's cock out of Pompeneia and sucked it clean. The mistress of the house sighed and caressed herself, enjoying every moment of this day. What a splendid orgy this was proving to be. She sat up slowly and looked around, seeing people in ecstasy all around her; not far away, one of the guests had a servant girl pressed up against a column, and was fucking her eagerly. She was pumping her hips against him and gasping in delight. On the emerald grass nearby, two women were laying side-by-side, arms wrapped around one another while they sucked hungrily on each other's pussies. One of her slender, boyish manservants was getting fucked in the ass by a patrician man named Pontifex, and her slave was mewling loudly. She heard laughing and joyous talk as Lady Aurora entered the palaestra, completely naked and surrounded by slaves and guests, all basking in her glorious sensuality. She sauntered over to the pool and eased herself down into it, sighing and relaxing in the cool water. Pompeneia smirked; after all the endless fucking the Lady had been doing, she was surprised there weren't clouds of steam emanating from around Aurora, as the water touched her skin. She was possibly the only person in the villa to have fucked more than her servant Bonosus. Pompeneia smiled and eased herself down onto the couch, beckoning over a slave-girl to service her. "Well, Mark, I see you've won our little wager," Becky observed, smiling at him while two slaves massaged her shoulders. She parted her legs to allow a servant girl to massage her cunt, or occasionally go under the water to kiss and nibble at it. "I managed six lovers at once. You seem to have eight." "Only if we fudge," he admitted, looking around the dancer who churned on his cock, trying to keep her moaning down so he could talk. "I can reasonably do four; one on my cock, one on my mouth, and one in each hand. I; am not gonna take any in my ass, after all." "Well, at the very least you can tie me," Becky pointed out, smirking at him. "Think and try again. You won't even need to move." Mark frowned for a moment, and then gave his teacher's words some thought; he perked up after a few moments, and then nodded. He told the girl he was fucking to lean back slightly. As she did so, he beckoned another to come and stand upright between them. The slave-girl did so, and Mark started lapping at her wet twat while the girl impaled on his cock began kissing and tonguing her ass. He paused and instructed four more to kneel by his hands. They did as asked readily. He faced them in to one another in pairs, bodies squashed close together. He then pushed his four fingers on each hand into one of them, while wiggling his thumb into the other. They all moaned, because Mark had decent-sized hands and fingers (in any day and age), and began kissing and swallowing one another's tongues hungrily. "See?" Becky giggled. "Six for six, you've matched me now." "Uh-uh!" he called out, his voice muffled by the slippery twat of the slave-girl on his mouth. "Watch this!" The women all whined in protest as Mark stood up, especially the one who had been fucking him, but he assured them that this would take only a moment before all was right with the world. He got out of the water and lay down on the grass, his frame stretched out and his throbbing cock on display, pointing at the cerulean sky overhead. His arms were spread wide and his legs slightly parted. Mark quickly brought the six girls back to their original positions, with the girl who had been using his mouth now facing down his body, to kiss and play with the one bouncing up and down on his cock. The two sets of girls resumed their places on his fingers and thumbs, kissing each other eagerly again, enjoying this strange game. He began wiggling his still-wet toes, and the last two slave-dancers caught on quickly; they took hold of his ankles and lowered their gooey pussies down onto his feet, taking them inside their slippery tunnels and moaning loudly. "Octo!" Mark yelled triumphantly from beneath the cunt squirming on his face. Becky laughed in sheer delight, clapping in support of her student's ingenuity. Others looking on laughed and applauded also. A crowd was gathering around him, but everyone made sure that Lady Aurora, who had moved to the spot just vacated by her servant, could see easily. She knelt on the low, tiled bench below the water, her elbows on the grass, the endless soft blades tickling her tits as she watched. She wiggled her shapely ass, and a slave dutifully moved up behind her and slid his cock deep inside her while she gazed on. Mark was enjoying himself; never had he guessed he would have been fucking eight girls at once, not to mention Roman slave-dancers, two of whom he was pretty sure were sisters. He wiggled his fingers, thumbs and toes, he flickered and snaked his tongue inside the girl above him, and he pushed up and down with his hips, spearing deep inside the slave-girl, who cried out in rapture as his cock split her wet cunt wide open. She arched her back and cried out loudly, cumming hard. She slumped off to the side and was quickly replaced by Nanu, who was eager for more. She churned and writhed on him, occasionally looking over at Lady Aurora, who smiled and winked at her. He could feel them all squirming and trembling now, and pushed himself harder, sending them all over the edge; several moaned loudly while the one on his face kissed Nanu deeply as they both screamed, rocked by their orgasms. The girl riding his tongue fell off to the side, shaking and holding her cunt as she moaned in pleasure. He looked over at his teacher. "Becks," he panted, his face glistening with cum and flush with need. "I'm gonna cum, but I want it to be in you. Please;” Without a moment's hesitation, Becky stood, the crystalline water cascading off her glorious body. She clambered out and all the slave-girls moved aside readily, even Nanu, who dutifully knelt beside Lady Aurora as she straddled her manservant. "Thanks for waiting for me, Mark," Becky whispered as she teased her slippery cunt lips along his cock while resting her hands on his shoulders and looking down at him. "It means so much to me." "Means everything to me too, Becks," he replied, nodding. "Wanna give 'em a show, show 'em how we do it in the twenty-first century?" The blonde beauty smiled wickedly, and without another word, shoved herself down hard on her student's cock, making them both moan loudly as he pushed deep inside her. Everyone watched in awe as the two began fucking madly, Becky thrashing her hips back and forth while he pumped up and down rapidly inside her, battering her cervix with each thrust. His hands found her bouncing tits and squeezed them, making her cry out, her fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders. Pompeneia and her husband Master Flavius stood right beside them, watching in fascination. Nanu was caressing and massaging Lady Aurora's flanks and ass while she fucked Bonosus, her deep hazel eyes staring longingly at them. Becky rode Mark harder and harder, his throbbing cock stretching her cunt deliciously, making her want to scream. She held on though, squeezing around Mark, thrilled to know that everyone's eyes were on them, watching them fuck with wild abandon. With every thrust she squeezed her ass cheeks tight, feeling Mark shudder below her. Mark was panting and grunting as he fough

In an interview at JupyterCon, Brian Granger — co-creator of Project Jupyter and senior principal technologist at AWS — reflected on Jupyter's evolution and how AI is redefining open source sustainability. Originally inspired by physics' modular principles, Granger and co-founder Fernando Pérez designed Jupyter with flexible, extensible components like the notebook format and kernel message protocol. This architecture has endured as the ecosystem expanded from data science into AI and machine learning. Now, AI is accelerating development itself: Granger described rewriting Jupyter Server in Go, complete with tests, in just 30 minutes using an AI coding agent — a task once considered impossible. This shift challenges traditional notions of technical debt and could reshape how large open source projects evolve. Jupyter's 2017 ACM Software System Award placed it among computing's greats, but also underscored its global responsibility. Granger emphasized that sustaining Jupyter's mission — empowering human reasoning, collaboration, and innovation — remains the team's top priority in the AI era. Learn more from The New Stack about the latest in Jupyter AI development: Introduction to Jupyter Notebooks for Developers Display AI-Generated Images in a Jupyter Notebook  Join our community of newsletter subscribers to stay on top of the news and at the top of your game.    Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

"AI is really bad at perspective taking…"Dr. Charlotte Grosse Wiesmann is a cognitive neuroscientist exploring how the human social brain takes shape in early life. She is a Professor at the University of Technology Nuremberg and directs the Research Group on Social Brain Development at the Max Planck Institute in Leipzig. Her research blends developmental psychology, brain imaging, and computational modeling to uncover how infants begin to infer other people's beliefs, intentions and mental states. In this conversation, Dr. Wiesmann unpacks how children's brains develop the capacity for social understanding and theory of mind. Drawing on developmental psychology and neuroimaging, she reveals how the brain transforms as children first succeed on false-belief tasks, a fleeting yet powerful window into the emergence of the social mind. Within this context, the conversation explores white matter maturation, environmental influences, and brain plasticity, offering fresh insights into how studying infant development can inform the future of AI. Join the conversation to discover how early brain development is reshaping our understanding of our social minds.We hope you enjoy this episode!Chapters:00:00 - A Journey from Physics to Neuroscience14:25 - Neural Bases of Early Childhood Theory of Mind21:58 - False Belief Task and Theory of Mind25:11 - Attention Schema for Consciousness27:14 - Primary Areas Involved in Theory of Mind31:24 - Impact of Neuro Deficits on Social Cognition33:57 - Role of Environment and Timing on Social Cognition37:11 - Implicit and Explicit Mechanisms of Social Development45:02 - Social Cognition Across Species47:37 - Connecting Neural Code to Social Cognition49:56 - Temporal Progression in Theory of Mind Tasks54:54 - Future Research Directions in Understanding Social Cognition01:00:08 - Infant Learning Inspires AI Development01:04:50 - Advice for Aspiring ScientistsWorks mentioned:14:31 -  White matter maturation is associated with the emergence of Theory of Mind in early childhood37:20 -  Two systems for thinking about others' thoughts in the developing brain49:50 -  Timing matters: disentangling the neurocognitive sequence of mentalizingEpisode producers:Xuqian Michelle Li, Karthik Sama

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,

The Farthest Reaches is a book about "Explanatory Universality". Explanatory Universality is a concept introduced by physicist and philosopher David Deutsch in his book "The Beginning of Infinity". Links, as mentioned in the audiobook can be found in the ebook available for free here: https://www.bretthall.org/the-farthest-reaches.html This present work follows the logic of that concept as it applies to education, psychology, morality, immigration, the trans issue, "evolutionary psychology" and the significance of people to physical reality and much more. This version is significantly longer and with superior audio production compared with the original podcast of the same name. These are the chapters and timestamps: 00:00 Preface 21:51 Chapter 1 - Universality and Reach 29:38 Chapter 2 - The Reach of Explanatory Universality 38:53 Chapter 3 - Explaining Explanatory Universality 47:31 Chapter 4 - Explanatory Universality and Education 1:00:27 Chapter 5 - Explanatory Universality, Psychological Science and IQ 1:03:41 Chapter 6 - Explanatory Universality and Adopting Culture 1:10:26 Chapter 7 - Explanatory Universality and IQ Part 2 1:14:58 Chapter 8 - Explanatory Universality and the “Trans Issue” 1:22:57 Chapter 9 - Explanatory Universality and Immigration 1:48:12 Chapter 10 - Explanatory Universality and Ethnicity 2:11:39 Chapter 11 - Explanatory Universality and Multiculturalism 2:23:22 Chapter 12 - Explanatory Universality and Mental Illness 2:32:35 Chapter 13 - Explanatory Universality, Hangups and Sexuality 2:41:26 Chapter 14 - Explanatory Universality and The Woke Left and The Woke Right 2:48:29 Chapter 15 - Explanatory Universality and Optimism 2:58:20 Chapter 16 - Explanatory Universality and Artificial Intelligences 3:09:59 Chapter 17 - Universality, Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Reach 3:17:07 Chapter 18 - Explanatory Universality and Evolutionary Psychology 3:31:20 Chapter 19 - Explanatory Universality and Individuality 3:39:05 Chapter 20 - Summary and Conclusions 4:08:18 Acknowledgements and Afterward   The author thanks David Deutsch ( ⁨@DavidDeutschPhysicist⁩  ) Naval Ravikant ( ⁨@NavalR⁩  ) Reid Nicewonder ( ⁨@CordialCuriosity⁩ ) and Peter Boghossian ( ⁨@drpeterboghossian⁩ ) for their crucial support and engagement. And to all other supporters who have contributed to the ongoing viability of ToKCast and my other content output. Brett Hall is a technical advisor and content creator, Ambassador to Conjecture Institute ( ⁨@ConjectureInstitute⁩ ) and Board Member of the National Progress Alliance (www.nationalprogressalliance.org) and holds undergraduate qualifications from: The University of New South Wales )in Physics and the Philosophy of Science) The University of Western Sydney (in Science and Mathematics Teaching) and Postgraduate Qualifications from Swinburne University, Melbourne (in Astronomy and Astrophysics). Macquarie University (in the Teaching of English Language) The Australian Catholic University (in Mathematics) and a partially completed post graduate certificate in Geology and Geophysics from Macquarie University. He lives in Sydney, Australia.

In this fascinating episode, we explore the boundaries of physics and imagination with Dr. Ronald Mallett, Professor Emeritus of Physics at the University of Connecticut and one of the few scientists in the world to have developed a theoretical framework for time travel. A pioneer in general relativity, black hole physics, and quantum cosmology, Dr. Mallett's groundbreaking work challenges what we think we know about time, gravity, and the structure of the universe. With a career spanning decades of research and teaching, Dr. Mallett's passion for science was born from a deeply personal story — the loss of his father at an early age which inspired a lifelong quest to unlock the secrets of time itself. His book, Time Traveler: A Scientist's Personal Mission to Make Time Travel a Reality, blends rigorous physics with human curiosity and heart. Tune in to discover: ·       The fascinating difference between special and general relativity. ·       What modern physics says about the possibility of time travel. ·       How black holes might hold the key to understanding space-time curvature. ·       The philosophical and ethical implications of manipulating time. Whether you're captivated by Einstein's theories, intrigued by black hole dynamics, or simply curious about the limits of human understanding, this episode offers a rare glimpse into how science and imagination collide at the edge of discovery. Learn more about Dr. Mallett's extraordinary journey and groundbreaking theories by exploring his work and book, Time Traveler. Episode also available on Apple Podcasts: https://apple.co/38oMlMr  Keep up with Ronald Mallett socials here: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ronald.l.mallett/  X : https://x.com/rlmallett  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ronaldmallett/ 

We're on Patreon! Find us at https://www.patreon.com/AudioUnleashed This week, Brent and Dennis weigh in on whether or not cheapaudioman is really telling the truth about tubes that nobody else is talking about, and answer the literally burning question: Is buying a McIntosh 275 really a death sentence for your chihuahua? Then they dive deep into the philosophy of intention-driven audio, whatever the heck that is, and ponder whether a monastery is really the best place to learn how to calculate standing-wave frequencies. Next, they engage with a LinkedIn post from Steve Temme of Listen, Inc., mostly as a backdoor excuse to talk about THD (total harmonic distortion) and how much it matters, or doesn't.

Quantum Materials and Nano-Fabrication with Javad ShabaniGuest: Dr. Javad Shabani is Professor of Physics at NYU, where he directs both the Center for Quantum Information Physics and the NYU Quantum Institute. He received his PhD from Princeton University in 2011, followed by postdoctoral research at Harvard and UC Santa Barbara in collaboration with Microsoft Research. His research focuses on novel states of matter at superconductor-semiconductor interfaces, mesoscopic physics in low-dimensional systems, and quantum device development. He is an expert in molecular beam epitaxy growth of hybrid quantum materials and has made pioneering contributions to understanding fractional quantum Hall states and topological superconductivity.Episode OverviewProfessor Javad Shabani shares his journey from electrical engineering to the frontiers of quantum materials research, discussing his pioneering work on semiconductor-superconductor hybrid systems, topological qubits, and the development of scalable quantum device fabrication techniques. The conversation explores his current work at NYU, including breakthrough research on germanium-based Josephson junctions and the launch of the NYU Quantum Institute.Key Topics DiscussedEarly Career and Quantum JourneyJavad describes his unconventional path into quantum physics, beginning with a double major in electrical engineering and physics at Sharif University of Technology after discovering John Preskill's open quantum information textbook. His graduate work at Princeton focused on the quantum Hall effect, particularly investigating the enigmatic five-halves fractional quantum Hall state and its potential connection to non-abelian anyons.From Spin Qubits to Topological Quantum ComputingDuring his PhD, Javad worked with Jason Petta and Mansur Shayegan on early spin qubit experiments, experiencing firsthand the challenge of controlling single quantum dots. His postdoctoral work at Harvard with Charlie Marcus focused on scaling from one to two qubits, revealing the immense complexity of nanofabrication and materials science required for quantum control. This experience led him to topological superconductivity at UC Santa Barbara, where he collaborated with Microsoft Research on semiconductor-superconductor heterostructures.Planar Josephson Junctions and Material InnovationAt NYU, Javad's group developed planar two-dimensional Josephson junctions using indium arsenide semiconductors with aluminum superconductors, moving away from one-dimensional nanowires toward more scalable fabrication approaches. In 2018-2019, his team published groundbreaking results in Physical Review Letters showing signatures of topological phase transitions in these hybrid systems.Gatemon Qubits and Hybrid SystemsThe conversation explores Javad's recent work on gatemon qubits—gate-tunable superconducting transmon qubits that leverage semiconductor properties for fast switching in the nanosecond regime. While indium arsenide's piezoelectric properties may limit qubit coherence, the material shows promise as a fast coupler between qubits. This research, published in Physical Review X, represents a convergence of superconducting circuit techniques with semiconductor physics.Breakthrough in Germanium-Based DevicesJavad reveals exciting forthcoming research accepted in Nature Nanotechnology on creating vertical Josephson junctions entirely from germanium. By doping germanium with gallium to make it superconducting, then alternating with undoped semiconducting germanium, his team has achieved wafer-scale fabrication of three-layer superconductor-semiconductor-superconductor junctions. This approach enables placing potentially 20 million junctions on a single wafer, opening pathways toward CMOS-compatible quantum device manufacturing.NYU Quantum Institute and Regional EcosystemThe episode discusses the launch of the NYU Quantum Institute under Javad's leadership, designed to coordinate quantum research across physics, engineering, chemistry, mathematics, and computer science. The Institute aims to connect fundamental research with application-focused partners in finance, insurance, healthcare, and communications throughout New York City. Javad describes NYU's quantum networking project with five nodes across Manhattan and Brooklyn, leveraging NYU's distributed campus fiber infrastructure for short-distance quantum communication.Academic Collaboration and the New York Quantum EcosystemJavad explains how NYU collaborates with Columbia, Princeton, Yale, Cornell, RPI, Stevens Institute, and City College to build a Northeast quantum corridor. The annual New York Quantum Summit (now in its fourth year) brings together academics, government labs including AFRL and Brookhaven, consulting firms, and industry partners. This regional approach complements established hubs like the Chicago Quantum Exchange while addressing New York's unique strengths in finance and dense urban infrastructure.Materials Science Challenges and InterfacesThe conversation delves into fundamental materials science puzzles, particularly the asymmetric nature of material interfaces. Javad explains how material A may grow well on material B, but B cannot grow on A due to polar interface incompatibilities—a critical challenge for vertical device fabrication. He draws parallels to aluminum oxide Josephson junctions, where the bottom interface is crystalline but the top interface grows on amorphous oxide, potentially contributing to two-level system noise.Industry Integration and Practical ApplicationsJavad discusses NYU's connections to chip manufacturing through the CHIPS Act, linking academic research with 200-300mm wafer-scale operations at NY Creates. His group also participates in the Co-design Center for Quantum Advantage (C2QA)  based at Brookhaven National Laboratory.Notable Quotes"Behind every great experimentalist, there is a greater theorist.""A lot of these kind of application things, the end users are basically in big cities, including New York...people who care at finance financial institutions, people like insurance, medical for sensing and communication.""You don't wanna spend time on doing the exact same thing...but I do feel we need to be more and bigger."

Ethereal Encounters Welcomes Jodi Jones November 12th , 2025 LIVE Wednesday 4:10 PM EST TOPIC: The Physics of Consciousness: How Tesla's 3, 6, 9 Applies to the Universe Jodi Jones is a world-class Medical Medium, Empath, and multidimensional channel — here to lead the sensitives, the seers, and the energetically cracked open back to their original blueprint. Meet the Frequency Behind the Method. But this Method wasn't born in light. It was forged in fire. Jodi walked through her own full-body unraveling — navigating over 46 chronic symptoms, adrenal collapse, nervous system shutdown, and spiritual disconnection. The kind of initiation you don't come back from the same. The 369 Blueprint Method™ was channeled through that collapse — built in real time with Spirit, and co-created alongside a vast multidimensional team of doctors, healers, shamans, galactic beings, and non-physical guides. With over 18 years of experience and thousands of client transformations, Jodi's work blends psychic precision, energetic medicine, and Tesla's 3-6-9 frequency technology — helping sensitives remember who they were before the world got loud. Her podcast, Collective Soulversations, is a portal for the raw, the real, and the Spirit-led — where spiritual awakening meets cellular truth. This isn't mindset work. This isn't manifestation. This is energetic architecture — encoded for those who are ready to return home to the frequency they were born to hold. Website: https://jodi-jones.com/

In this episode of The Coach Dave Love Podcast, we dive into one of the most polarizing shooting mechanics in basketball: the Dip.Once seen as a bad habit to eliminate, the pendulum has now swung in the opposite direction—some coaches actively teach it. But what's the science behind it? What are the trade-offs when players dip versus when they don't? And how can coaches make informed decisions rather than rely on trends?Dave and Matt explore:What the dip does (and doesn't) accomplish from a physics perspectiveHow it fits within Dave's Sandbox Analogy of shooting mechanicsHow coaches can help players explore the dip more intentionally and effectivelyPlus: we feature our first-ever listener question! Want to be next? Record a voice note with your name, location, and question and email it to: podcast@coachdavelove.comReferenced blogs:The Physics of the Basketball DipExploring the Sandbox: Rethinking Skill in Basketball Shooting

What's up, everybody? It's Tom Bilyeu here: If you want my help... STARTING a business: join me here at ZERO TO FOUNDER:  https://tombilyeu.com/zero-to-founder?utm_campaign=Podcast%20Offer&utm_source=podca[%E2%80%A6]d%20end%20of%20show&utm_content=podcast%20ad%20end%20of%20show SCALING a business: see if you qualify here.:  https://tombilyeu.com/call Get my battle-tested strategies and insights delivered weekly to your inbox: sign up here.: https://tombilyeu.com/ ********************************************************************** If you're serious about leveling up your life, I urge you to check out my new podcast, Tom Bilyeu's Mindset Playbook —a goldmine of my most impactful episodes on mindset, business, and health. Trust me, your future self will thank you. ********************************************************************** FOLLOW TOM: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tombilyeu/ Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@tombilyeu?lang=en Twitter: https://twitter.com/tombilyeu YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@TomBilyeu In today's episode, Tom Bilyeu takes us on a gripping journey through the current state of the global economy, sounding the alarm on what he calls the "everything bubble." He draws parallels between the 2008 housing crisis and our present moment, but warns that this time, it's not just housing—it's stocks, real estate, crypto, commodities, and even collectibles, all propped up by years of cheap, printed money. With bold insights and clear data, Tom Bilyeu unpacks why the relentless expansion of debt and money supply has pushed our financial system to the edge, and how compounding interest is the “final boss” no one sees coming. You'll hear why traditional solutions like money printing and taxation may not be enough, and what history tells us about societies with runaway debt. Plus, he lays out practical strategies for adapting and thriving—no matter what the future holds. This episode is a must-listen for anyone who wants to understand the complex forces at play behind the headlines and protect themselves in uncertain times. So, settle in and get ready for a direct, no-fluff breakdown of where we're headed—and what you can do to be prepared. 00:00 Intro 02:36 Part 1: Things Look Great, But We're Totally Screwed 06:56 Part 2: The Physics of Money 18:32 Part 3: Timing is Everything 30:22 Part 4: Surviving the Flood - Where We Go From Here Linkedin: Post your job free at https://linkedin.com/impacttheory HomeServe: Help protect your home systems – and your wallet – with HomeServe against covered repairs. Plans start at just $4.99 a month at https://homeserve.com Bevel Health: 1st month FREE at https://bevel.health/impact with code IMPACT ButcherBox: Your choice of holiday protein — ham or turkey in your first box, or ground beef for life — plus $20 off at https://butcherbox.com/impact Shopify: Sign up for your one-dollar-per-month trial period at https://shopify.com/impact Incogni: Take your personal data back with Incogni! Use code IMPACT at the link below and get 60% off an annual plan: https://incogni.com/impact BlandAI: Call it for free today: https://bland.ai Or for enterprises, you can book a demo directly:  https://bland.ai/enterprise Connectteam: 14 day free trial at https://connecteam.cc/46GxoTFd Raycon: Go to https://buyraycon.com/impact to get up to 30% off sitewide. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Science has an incredibly impressive track record of uncovering nonintuitive ideas about the universe that turn out to be surprisingly accurate. It can be tempting to think of scientific discoveries as being carefully constructed atop a rock-solid foundation. In reality, scientific progress is tentative and fallible. Scientists propose models, assign them probabilities, and run tests to see whether they succeed or fail. In cosmologist Andrew Jaffe's new book, The Random Universe, he illustrates how models and probability help us make sense of the cosmos.Blog post with transcript: https://www.preposterousuniverse.com/podcast/2025/11/10/335-andrew-jaffe-on-models-probability-and-the-universe/Support Mindscape on Patreon.Andrew Jaffe received his Ph.D. in physics from the University of Chicago. He is currently a professor of astrophysics and cosmology and Director of the Imperial Centre for Inference and Cosmology at Imperial College, London. His research lies at the intersection of theoretical and observational cosmology, including the Planck Surveyor, Euclid, LISA, and Simons Observatory collaborations.Web siteImperial web pageGoogle Scholar publicationsAmazon author pageSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Professor Ivette Fuentes makes impossible physics testable, with verified predictions on the Casimir effect and quantum vacuum. Now she's building a "third way" to quantum gravity, a surprisingly simple model that changes both quantum mechanics and relativity instead of forcing one to dominate the other. SPONSORS: - As a listener of TOE you can get a special 20% off discount to The Economist and all it has to offer! Visit https://www.economist.com/toe SUPPORT: - Support me on Substack: https://curtjaimungal.substack.com/subscribe - Support me on Crypto: https://commerce.coinbase.com/checkout/de803625-87d3-4300-ab6d-85d4258834a9 - Support me on PayPal: https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=XUBHNMFXUX5S4 JOIN MY SUBSTACK (Personal Writings): https://curtjaimungal.substack.com LISTEN ON SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/show/4gL14b92xAErofYQA7bU4e TIMESTAMPS: - 00:00 - A Third Way to Quantum Gravity - 07:35 - Vacuum-Induced Berry Phase - 12:30 - Dynamical Casimir Effect - 19:02 - Stagnation in Physics? - 29:25 - A Third Way to Unification - 38:20 - What is Physics? - 43:43 - What is Entanglement? - 56:11 - Observer-Dependent Entanglement - 1:03:20 - Advice for Students LINKS MENTIONED: - Ivette's First Appearance [TOE]: https://youtu.be/cUj2TcZSlZc - Ivette's Published Papers: https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=W7-xksIAAAAJ&hl=en - Ivette's Website: https://ivettefuentes.weebly.com/ - Berry Phase: https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/mathematics/berry-phase - Maria Violaris [TOE]: https://youtu.be/Iya6tYN37ow - Casimir Effect: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casimir_effect - Towards Universal Quantum Computation Through Relativistic Motion [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1311.5619 - SQUID: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SQUID - Observation Of The Dynamical Casimir Effect In A Superconducting Circuit [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1105.4714 - Generating Multimode Entangled Microwaves With A Superconducting Parametric Cavity [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1709.00083 - Sir Roger Penrose [TOE]: https://youtu.be/iO03t21xhdk - String Theory Iceberg [TOE]: https://youtu.be/X4PdPnQuwjY - Felix Finster [TOE]: https://youtu.be/fXzO_KAqrh0 - Jonathan Oppenheim [TOE]: https://youtu.be/6Z_p3viqW1g - Ted Jacobson [TOE]: https://youtu.be/3mhctWlXyV8 - Jacob Barandes [TOE]: https://youtu.be/wrUvtqr4wOs - Tim Maudlin [TOE]: https://youtu.be/fU1bs5o3nss - Bertlemann's Socks And The Nature Of Reality [Paper]: https://cds.cern.ch/record/142461/files/198009299.pdf - Perimeter Institute: https://perimeterinstitute.ca/ - Alice Falls Into A Black Hole [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/quant-ph/0410172 - Observer Dependent Entanglement [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1210.2223 - Frederic Schuller [TOE]: https://youtu.be/Bnh-UNrxYZg - Vacuum Induced Spin-1/2 Berry Phase [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/quant-ph/0202128 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Podcast Highlights: 1) Cognitive Physics emerge as a bridge between science and spirit? 2) Is the universe a simulation or a sentient thought? 3) Can science and spirituality finally speak the same language? 4) What role do we play in coding the next version of reality itself?

We move to a portal to Hell and get attacked. The fight is on!

In this mind-bending episode of Bigfoot Society, host Jeremiah Byron sits down with Dr. Simeon Hein — author of Dark Matter Monsters — to explore the bridge between science and the unexplained.Simeon dives deep into how Bigfoot, UFOs/UAPs, and other paranormal encountersmay connect through dark matter physics, electromagnetic fields, and resonant energy phenomena. Discover how eyewitness reports, environmental changes, and even “the hitchhiker effect” could reveal hidden scientific truths behind mysterious creatures and high-strangeness events.

Get my book Focus Like a Nobel Prize Winner: https://www.amazon.com/Into-Impossible-Laureates-Concentrate-Creativity/dp/1544548850 Imagine the day that aliens arrive not with a death ray, but with a rug and a new understanding of physics. Daniel Whiteson's new book opens with a wild question what if aliens show up with a better understanding of physics, we can't even recognize that's what they're offering. How would you react? This is his hope that aliens might carry the product of millions, billions, or kazillions of years of alien scientific thought that would catapult us unimaginably into the future. But Daniel speculates on why we might not be able to understand even the language it's written in. Join us today for a conversation about Daniel Whiteson's new book, Do Aliens Speak Physics? And a Romp Through the Drake Equation The Future of Artificial Intelligence, and physics, and even the search for exotic new particles. Now let's go deep into the impossible. Key Takeaways 00:00 "Do Aliens Speak Physics?" 08:07 "Are Aliens Humanity's Saviors?" 15:07 Early Attempts to Contact Aliens 19:03 Math: Tool or Universal Truth? 25:03 "Limits of Understanding the Universe" 29:30 "Possibility of Alien Communication" 36:21 "Learning from Alien Discovery" 37:08 "Physics, Humanity, and Alien Insight" 46:08 "AI, Physics, and Possibilities" 51:58 Technical Talk and Nobel Prize 53:23 "Quirks and Particle Physics Missteps" 01:01:17 Serendipity and Nobel Pursuits - Additional resources: Buy Daniel's Book: https://www.amazon.com/Do-Aliens-Speak-Physics-Questions/dp/1324064641 Get My NEW Book: Focus Like a Nobel Prize Winner: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FN8DH6SX?ref_=pe_93986420_775043100 Please join my mailing list here

As we move into the end of the year, I'm excited to return to our recurring series “What's New in Science” with my co-host Sabine Hossenfelder. In this month's episode, we started by tackling a favorite subject: scientific hype. Sabine kicked things off by dissecting a recent, highly suspect press release claiming a million-qubit quantum computer is on the horizon. I then brought up a National Geographic article claiming that “warp drive is speeding closer to reality” , and we discussed the reasons why it actually isn't, including the need for “negative energy,” that keep it firmly in the realm of science fiction.From there, Sabine steered us into the world of academic accolades, discussing the controversy around last year's Nobel Prize in Physics for work on neural networks and the collaborative nature of science. I then introduced this year's prize, which was awarded for the beautiful and precise experimental work on seemingly macroscopic manifestations of quantum mechanics—specifically, showing a superconducting quantum state can “tunnel” through a barrier.Finally, we turned to cosmic mysteries. Sabine presented a report on search for “Dark Stars,” a theory that the first stars might have been powered by dark matter annihilation , which require some wishful thinking and what I think are not particularly well motivated physics. For full disclosure this is an issue I thought about in a slightly different context almost 40 years ago and have some a priori skepticism about. I closed with a much more plausible bit of exotic physics that may have been observed: new observations of long-lived gamma-ray bursts. A new model suggests these are caused by a black hole that has merged with a star and is consuming it from the inside out. From wild hype to implausible and plausible models to Nobel-winning physics, I hope you enjoy the conversation.As always, an ad-free video version of this podcast is also available to paid Critical Mass subscribers. Your subscriptions support the non-profit Origins Project Foundation, which produces the podcast. The audio version is available free on the Critical Mass site and on all podcast sites, and the video version will also be available on the Origins Project YouTube. Get full access to Critical Mass at lawrencekrauss.substack.com/subscribe

Use code coolworldspodcast at https://incogni.com/coolworldspodcast to get an exclusive 60% off. In this week's episode, David is joined by Jason Steffen, Professor of Physics at University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Jason is the author of the book "Hidden in the Heavens: How the Kepler Mission's Quest for New Planets Changed How We View Our Own". To support this podcast and our research lab, head to https://coolworldslab.com/support Cool Worlds Podcast Theme by Hill [https://open.spotify.com/artist/1hdkvBtRdOW4SPsnxCXOjK]

What is nothing? Can it be defined, either philosophically or scientifically? Or will the exploration of nothing bring, ultimately, to nothing?The philosophical exploration of nothingness is an ancient one, from the mysterious number zero through theological understandings of the absence of God right to modern physics and ideas of the void.Join leading theoretical physicists David Deutsch and Lee Smolin, alongside science writer Amanda Gefter, as they discuss the edges of their understanding of nothing, including what something is, what physics tells us, and the extent to which we require esotericism to comprehend it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

If we ever meet intelligent extraterrestrials, will we even be able to talk about physics? Physicist Daniel Whiteson of UC Irvine and cartoonist Andy Warner join Sarah Al-Ahmed to explore one of science’s strangest and most profound questions: if alien civilizations exist, would their understanding of the Universe look anything like ours? Their new book, “Do Aliens Speak Physics?”, discusses the nature of knowledge itself, asking whether math and physics are truly universal, or if even our most “objective” truths are shaped by our human perspective. Together, they consider what it would take to communicate with alien intelligence and how humor and illustration can make those big cosmic ideas feel surprisingly down-to-Earth. Then, stick around for What’s Up with Bruce Betts, as we discuss how difficult it is to explain physics to humans, let alone extraterrestrial life. Discover more at: https://www.planetary.org/planetary-radio/2025-do-aliens-speak-physicsSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Physicists mathematically prove that we don't live in a Matrix world, debunking the idea that the universe is a simulation. Physicists Just Ruled Out The Universe Being a Simulation : ScienceAlert Physicists Have Mathematically Proven the Universe Is Not a Simulation | SciTechDaily Mathematical proof debunks the idea that the universe is a computer simulation | Phys.org Consequences of Undecidability in Physics on the Theory of Everything | Journal of Holography Applications in Physics Brought to you by Express VPN - find out how you can get up to four extra months at ⁠⁠www.ExpressVPN.com/COOL⁠⁠ Contact the show - coolstuffdailypodcast@gmail.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Why do physical laws have their specific form? Host Curt Jaimungal shows this question is a philosophical knot, because any "explanation" must itself stand on a law. Sponsors: - As a listener of TOE you can get a special 20% off discount to The Economist and all it has to offer! Visit https://www.economist.com/toe Join My New Substack (Personal Writings): https://curtjaimungal.substack.com Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4gL14b92xAErofYQA7bU4e Timestamps: - 00:00 - Why Physical Laws? - 05:04 - The Justification Problem - 12:14 - The Limits of Explanation Links mentioned: - Wigner's Classification: https://ncatlab.org/nlab/show/Wigner+classification - Noether's Theorem: https://ncatlab.org/nlab/show/Noether%27s+theorem - This Is What Energy Actually Is [TOE]: https://youtu.be/hQk9GLZ0Fms - Do Symmetries “Explain” Conservation Laws? [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/2010.10909 - Max Tegmark [TOE]: https://youtu.be/-gekVfUAS7c - Lee Smolin [TOE]: https://youtu.be/uOKOodQXjhc - Amanda Gefter [TOE]: https://youtu.be/yABPvDJ6Zgs - John Norton [TOE]: https://youtu.be/Tghl6aS5A3M - Laws of Physics [Eddy Keming Chen]: https://arxiv.org/abs/2309.03484 - What's Actually Possible: https://curtjaimungal.substack.com/p/the-unexamined-in-principle - Eddy Chen & Barry Loewer [TOE]: https://youtu.be/xZnafO__IZ0 - The Package Deal Accounts of Laws and Properties [Paper]: https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11229-020-02765-2 - David Deutsch [TOE]: https://youtu.be/vKeWv-cdWkM - Elan Barenholtz & Will Hahn [TOE]: https://youtu.be/Ca_RbPXraDE - Münchhausen Trilemma [Wikipedia]: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%BCnchhausen_trilemma - Jennifer Nagel [TOE]: https://youtu.be/CWZVMZ9Tm7Q - Law Without Law [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1712.01826 - Schrodinger Equation: https://ncatlab.org/nlab/show/Schr%C3%B6dinger+equation - Born Rule: https://ncatlab.org/nlab/show/Born+rule - Enaction of Qbists [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/2411.04230 - Constructor Theory [Paper]: https://arxiv.org/pdf/1210.7439 - The Package Deal Account of Laws and Properties [Paper]: https://sites.rutgers.edu/barry-loewer/wp-content/uploads/sites/195/2020/05/Loewer-2020-The-Package-Deal-Account.pdf - Jonathan Pageau [TOE]: https://youtu.be/X3co_AA6yec - The Most Abused Theorem in Math (Godel's Incompleteness) [TOE]: https://youtu.be/OH-ybecvuEo SUPPORT: - Become a YouTube Member (Early Access Videos): https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCdWIQh9DGG6uhJk8eyIFl1w/join - Support me on Patreon: https://patreon.com/curtjaimungal - Support me on Crypto: https://commerce.coinbase.com/checkout/de803625-87d3-4300-ab6d-85d4258834a9 - Support me on PayPal: https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=XUBHNMFXUX5S4 SOCIALS: - Twitter: https://twitter.com/TOEwithCurt - Discord Invite: https://discord.com/invite/kBcnfNVwqs Guests do not pay to appear. Theories of Everything receives revenue solely from viewer donations, platform ads, and clearly labelled sponsors; no guest or associated entity has ever given compensation, directly or through intermediaries. #science Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We're happy that Jennifer Aniston is happy! But that doesn't stop the hypnotist judgement. Throw Magicians and Physics in there too!

The universe as revealed by physics is objective: it's out there, existing and behaving in ways that are completely independent of human thought. But the process by which we learn about the universe, and the language with which we talk about it, is extremely human-dependent. Does that mean that aliens would do science differently, and even think differently about physics, even if we all live in the same universe? Physicist Daniel Whiteson has teamed with cartoonist Andy Warner to investigate these questions in their new book Do Aliens Speak Physics?Blog post with transcript: https://www.preposterousuniverse.com/podcast/2025/11/03/334-daniel-whiteson-on-the-physics-of-and-by-aliens/Support Mindscape on Patreon.Daniel Whiteson received his Ph.D. in physics from the University of California at Berkeley. He is currently a professor of physics at the University of California, Irvine. He is a Fellow of the American Physical Society and recipient of an Emmy nomination. He is the author of several books, often with co-author Jorge Cham. He is the co-host (with Kelly Weinersmith) of the podcast Daniel and Kelly's Extraordinary Universe.UCI web pageGoogle Scholar publicationsAmazon author pageWikipediaSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.