Podcasts about Pity

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

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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

Wanna rock the ReddX merch? https://teespring.com/stores/r... Got a story? I got a subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/ReddX... In this episode of r/LegbeardStories we've got a legbeard that is being pity-dated by an OP... For three years. How is that possible? Come experience the leaps in logic involved in dating a legbeard for such an amazingly long period of time... Even after she begins to threaten him in multiple ways. Dating a legbeard is never a good idea, but rarely is it ever this BAD of an idea... It doesn't matter what your background is, you always need to treat people like people and not use them simply to get off. Neckbeards seem to learn this lesson particularly slow and it really does make my blood boil... So we must bring it to light so others don't suffer alone. For your fill of neckbeard stories we've got you covered with the freshest weeaboo, niceguy, and neckbeard happenings on reddit. Stick with ReddX for your daily dose of cringe with a side-dish of relatability. You might even feel good for dessert... But who can say? #twilight #legbeard #vampire Join me on Discord dude: https://discord.gg/fmfCdmP One-time PayPal donation: https://www.paypal.me/daytondo... Support this channel on Patreon: http://patreon.com/daytondoes Stalk me on the Twitter! http://www.twitter.com/daytond... Visit me over on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ReddX... Check out my other channel: https://www.youtube.com/dayton... Wifey's channel is right over here: https://www.youtube.com/channe... Have you ever met a neckbeard or a legbeard? They are frustrating to deal with, but luckily you aren't alone! These r/legbeardstories from Reddit are among the top posts of all time and include some of the funniest Reddit stories ever posted on the legbeard stories subreddit! rSlash LegbeardStories have all kinds of funny legbeards in them, but especially the nice girl. And the weeaboo. There is a wide spectrum of neckbeards, and this is but a small slice of it. Listening to ReddX's legbeard stories playlist is a great experience! These neckbeard stories Top Posts of All Time from Reddit are made for you to enjoy any time you feel like it, so be sure to save my rSlash legbeard stories playlist to your favorites! While there are many rslash channels that read r/legbeard stories and r/prorevenge from reddit, each channel has their own way of performing them. Some of the top rSlash subreddit narration channels I recommend checking out are the original rSlash, Redditor, fresh, r/Bumfries, VoiceyHere, Mr Reddit, Storytime and Darkfluff. These Reddit story channels inspired me to start my own Reddit story channel, with a focus on legbeard stories and at times going into the r/pettyrevenge and r/choosingbeggars subreddit as well. Because most of my audience prefers Neckbeard Stories of Reddit, I tend to just stick with reading the r/EntitleParents Top Posts of All Time. But I also enjoy getting up close and personal with legbeards and weeaboos from time to time. Subscribe to ReddX for the freshest daily Reddit content. I post relatable readings of Reddit posts and Reddit stories every single day! Journey with me as I relate these amazing Reddit stories to my personal life journey. I'm greatly inspired by the top reddit posts of all time videos and reddit stories on YouTube which is why I started doing them myself. YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channe... Discord: https://discord.gg/Sju7YckUWu Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/daytondo... PayPal: https://www.paypal.me/daytondo... Patreon: http://patreon.com/daytondoes Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/daytond... Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ReddX... Merch: https://reddx-shop.fourthwall....

Case + Cass unpack the blurry line of helping too much vs. not enough, and why that “middle ground” makes them feel truly included.

THE PERSIAN LEAPS "About Your Record" from Electrical LivingGUIDED BY VOICES "Unfun Glitz" from Sweating the PlagueBAD MOVES "Spirit FM" from Tell No OneEXTRA ARMS "No Enemies" from Up From HereSLOAN "On the Horizon" from Navy BluesTWEN "Damsel" from AwestruckDEAR BOY "Anything at All" from The Strawberry - EPRULER "Obvious" from Winning Star ChampionHATCHIE "Stay With Me" from KeepsakeWOLF ALICE "Freazy" from My Love Is CoolNEW PORNOGRAPHERS "Colossus of Rhodes" from In the Morse Code of Brake LightsPERNICE BROTHERS "The Devil and the Jinn" from Spread The FeelingSCOTT GAGNER "Two Guitars, Bass, And Drums" from Hummingbird HeartMcKEON "I Will Prove You Wrong" from McKeonJACOB TURNBLOOM "Suncoast Digest" from Cemetery LuauFOXHALL STACKS "The Old Me" from The Coming CollapseWEEZER "Photograph" from Weezer (Green Album)SUCCESSFUL FAILURES "Oh Diane" from SaratogaNICK PIUNTI & THE COMPLICATED MEN "All This Time" from All This Time - SingleDAVE MOLTER "Foolish Heart" from Foolish Heart - SingleNICK FRATER "Strangers On the Bus" from Full Fathom Freight-TrainMATTHEW SWEET "Future Shock" from In ReverseTREBLE CHARGER "More's the Pity" from Wide Awake BoredBOB MOULD "Deep Karma Canyon" from Bob Mould (Hubcap)THE TOR GUIDES "Just a Smile" from Backwards In ReverseMAPLE MARS "Somewhere Back There" from GalaxylandANC4 "Easy Way Out" from ANC4BIG TIDE "Wrong Number" from Sync or SwimSPINN "Notice Me" from SpinnTHE MUFFS "On My Own" from No Holiday

Dan Jarmsa // Genesis 29:31-30:24 Sermon notes

4th shiur - R' David Reboh Likutei Moharan Torah 7 Tinyana.Subscribe to our WhatsApp status for exclusive updates, short clips and more. We are also available on Youtube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts. Download our english and hebrew pamphlets here

Messages from Merge Community Church in Azle, Tx.

Anne Lamott talks about compassion and pity and portraying compassion as a connection to another's struggles versus pity as a detached, often condescending, feeling. Sarah explores some thoughts around this today - listen in!Coaching with Sarah - All details HEREJoin my email club HEREBuy the best-selling book Drink Less; Live Better HERE or order from anywhere you usually buy your books.Subscribe to my 5 day Drink Less Email Series HEREDownload my Habit Tracker HEREDid you know I've HIDDEN a podcast episode? It's your secret weapon at 5pm if you are feeling cravings for alcohol.You can listen HEREBTW - If you didn't already know, I'm Sarah - Drink Less; Live Better founder, best-selling author, expert speaker, life coach and, as you already know, podcast host!We don't have to hit rock bottom, we're allowed to want something different and we can CHOOSE to improve our lives from this point onwards. I work in the magic space where doubt, hope and action meet... oh.... and PS I believe in you!Let's get connected; on Facebookon instaCheck out Drink Less; Live Better for blog posts and moreSubscribe to this podcast so you don't miss an episode - also please do leave a like or review and share the love! Thank youFound the podcast useful? I'd love to have a coffee with you - you can buy it HERETHANK YOU!

In the 1980s, the tiny town of Arcadia, Florida, was “fifty miles and fifty years from Sarasota.” With its cowboy roots, low-wage agricultural industries, and violent frontier history, Arcadia was a curious mix of the desolate ranchlands of West Texas and the stately homes and bitter race relations of the South. In A Town without Pity, award-winning author Jason Vuic recounts two heartbreaking stories from Arcadia that rose to national prominence at the end of the Reagan era and forced the town to reckon with not only AIDS hysteria but also the legacies of a racist past. This book delves into the case of James Richardson, a Black migrant worker accused in 1967 of poisoning his seven children. Richardson spent twenty years in prison due to suppressed evidence for a crime he didn't commit. Vuic also tells the story of the public mistreatment of the three Ray brothers, white school-age children with hemophilia who contracted the HIV virus from a tainted medicine called factor VIII. The Rays were barred from attending their local church and school, and when their house burned down in a mysterious arson, reporters dubbed Arcadia the “town without pity.”Through extensive use of newspapers, court records, and interviews, Vuic shows how the actions of authorities and residents left little room for the voices that spoke up against bias, harassment, and coercion. At the same time, this cautionary tale places Arcadia as a microcosm of many small towns in the late twentieth-century United States, reminding readers of the staying power of social divisions and prejudice even after the achievements of the civil rights movement. A TOWN WITHOUT PITY: AIDS, Race, and Resistance in Florida's Deep South—Jason Vuic

Send Us Your Prayer Requests --------Thank you for listening! Your support of Joni and Friends helps make this show possible. Joni and Friends envisions a world where every person with a disability finds hope, dignity, and their place in the body of Christ. Become part of the global movement today at www.joniandfriends.org. Find more encouragement on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube.

What if true forgiveness isn't about waiting for an apology, but a radical choice that frees your heart—even amid deep pain? Michael Rowntree tackles common misconceptions about forgiveness, inspired by MikeWinger 's episode discussing Erika Kirk's powerful act of forgiving her husband's killer. Discover how Christian theology calls us to forgive infinitely, just as we've been forgiven by God, and learn the difference between unconditional forgiveness and conditional forgiveness for public reconciliation.0:00 – Introduction and Episode Inspiration1:23 – Matthew 18: Community Discourse Overview2:02 – Peter's Question and Jesus' Response on Forgiveness3:16 – Misconception 1: Forgiveness as Everyday Choice6:25 – Misconception 2: Forgoing Repayment, Not Forgetting9:19 – Luke 17: Conditional Forgiveness Explained11:38 – Unconditional vs. Conditional Forgiveness13:09 – Joseph's Story: Model of Reconciliation14:54 – Erica Kirk's Unconditional Forgiveness16:27 – Jesus' Model of Pity and Mercy17:26 – Closing Quote on Healed MemoriesMIKE WINGER'S ORIGINAL EPISODE:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H74TYYjK6RUSubscribe to The Remnant Radio newsletter and receive our FREE introduction to spiritual gifts eBook. Plus, get access to: discounts, news about upcoming shows, courses and conferences - and more. Subscribe now at TheRemnantRadio.com.Support the showABOUT THE REMNANT RADIO:

Around The Table - Pity the Fool Matthew 25: 1-13 Pastor Bill Vecchio Jr.

Get Up resumes with more on the Bengals win vs. the Steelers. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In the latest episode of The Line Podcast, recorded on October 17, 2025, Matt Gurney and Jen Gerson start off with a quick recap of Alberta's teacher strike — and the feedback Jen has been getting since last week's show. Matt mentions something else they've been getting. Notes of thanks from struggling parents.This episode of The Line Podcast is brought to you by Forestry For The Future. Canada's housing crisis demands bold, scalable solutions. Build Canada Homes is an opportunity to leverage Canadian wood in modern construction. Wood-based methods like mass timber and modular construction can significantly reduce build times, waste, and carbon emissions, while supporting local economies. Expanding building codes, streamlining approvals, and prioritizing domestic wood in federal projects could double demand and foster job creation in rural and northern communities.Despite trade challenges and market volatility, a partnership between industry and government is vital to stabilize the sector, enhance competitiveness, and deliver innovative, sustainably sourced Canadian wood products for homes across Canada and abroad. With capacity growing across provinces, stable demand and predictable financing are key to unlocking the sector's potential.We need to Build Canada Homes with Canadian wood. To learn more, visit ForestryForTheFuture.ca.From there, they head to the Middle East. Well, not literally, but you know what we mean. They talk about the limited optimism they feel now that the fighting has largely stopped, the genuine relief at the hostages being home, and why Gaza likely needs to be occupied by a stabilization force for decades. Canada's influence? Let's just say it was minimal. Matt even suggests it might have been negative — that we may have actually made things slightly worse. Not a great chapter in our diplomatic history, but probably not one where we could have expected much better. They also wonder if Carney appreciates what will be asked of Canada in exchange for letting our PM be on the stage.This episode is also brought to you by the Daily Bread Food Bank. Working-age Canadians with disabilities experience poverty and food insecurity at twice the rate of the general population. The Canada Disability Benefit was designed to address this, but at $6.67 a day, it fails to cover essentials like food, housing, and medication. Daily Bread Food Bank and coalition partners urge the federal government to fully fund the benefit to lift those it was meant to serve out of poverty. Join thousands of Canadians calling for change to help ensure people with disabilities can live a life of dignity. Take action at FundTheBenefit.ca.Then the conversation shifts back to domestic politics — sort of. Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre is tweeting about Nazis again. It's not that he's totally wrong, but his grasp of the history seems to hover at the level of someone who's skimmed a bit about interwar Europe … or, maybe, he knows exactly what he's doing and just wants to troll everyone for the donations. That seems to be how politics works these days.Fun stuff. For more fun stuff, check us out at ReadTheLine.ca. 

Mark 6:30-44 (NKJV)Andrew, Isack, and Edwin discuss the compassion and care of Jesus the Good Shepherd.Read the written devo that goes along with this episode by clicking here.    Let us know what you are learning or any questions you have. Email us at TextTalk@ChristiansMeetHere.org.    Join the Facebook community and join the conversation by clicking here. We'd love to meet you. Be a guest among the Christians who meet on Livingston Avenue. Click here to find out more. Michael Eldridge sang all four parts of our theme song. Find more from him by clicking here.   Thanks for talking about the text with us today.________________________________________________If the hyperlinks do not work, copy the following addresses and paste them into the URL bar of your web browser: Daily Written Devo: https://readthebiblemakedisciples.wordpress.com/?p=23116The Christians Who Meet on Livingston Avenue: http://www.christiansmeethere.org/Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/TalkAboutTheTextFacebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/texttalkMichael Eldridge: https://acapeldridge.com/ 

Bleav Host Robert Land asks Texans Analyst Garrett Williams (aka Texans Stressans) @TexansCommenter if he likes early Bye Week, how Popovich has improved O-Line, Stroud's under the radar improvement & if it's time to give Schultz respect. Plus, can they still win AFC South, biggest Texans weakness & positions or players to target at trade deadline. Today's Show Presented by FanDuel! (:26) Is early Bye Week Good? (1:14) Does Cole Popovich need more love? (4:30) Stroud's Big Improvment this year! (9:57) Does Schultz deserve more respect? (13:54) Can Texans STILL Win AFC South? (16:04) Do Stats show Texans Way Better than Record? (19:50) Biggest Texans Red Flag? (21:43) Trade Deadline Targets? (27:11) Keys to beat Seahawks? (32:00) Are Texans Best Defense in NFL? (34:29) Pity for Titans? (35:50) Final Thoughts Subscribe on Youtube, Spotify, Apple & iHeart X @HSTPodcast #cjstroud #demecoryans #texans Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Join me and Scott as we talk about the parable of the rich fool!

The problem with pity as it relates to your Filipino relationships.In this episode, we will explore-What is Awa(Pity)How does culture shape Awa in you and your family?What's the difference between Awa and EmpathyHarm that Can Result from AwaReshaping Awa to Empathy...atbpThis episode is brought to you by the your Free Assessment Guide for Filipino Women Navigating Guilt, Emotional Burnout, & Boundaries. Your guide will assess how much emotional burnout you're carrying and give you actionable tips to break the cycle of pleasing others, while denying yourself to finally feeling good enough.Download your guide free here: https://www.kalamansijuice.com/filipino-women-with-family-guiltTo read articles on the Kalamansi Juice Blog, visit:https://www.kalamansijuice.com/blogTo book a Free Consult with Roanne:https://tinyurl.com/consultwithRoanneSalamat po sa pakikinig,Roanne

This episode's title comes from the 1626 play by English dramatist John Ford, because we are very smart. And turns out, it kinda fits for discussing SATC's apparent attitude toward Samantha Jones. We dive into Sam's key romantic relationships to explore how her attitude toward sex and dating was contrasted with that of the other three women, and what that says about how the show viewed women's sexuality.We also discuss different iterations of the fan theory that Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda are all really aspects of Carrie's personality. Are they fictional aliases for the women Carrie wrote about in her column? Are they figments of her imagination? Or do each of Carrie's friends represent her id, ego, and superego? That's right, we're getting Freudian. Because we are very smart.

Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

על יוצרים בעליית הגג, קונספציה ומבוכה, אידיאל רומנטי, כותרות נכונות, ישראלים ויהודים, אובססיה של אומנים, אירופה והמהגרים, רשתות ומסכים, על טולסטוי, וולבק, טננבום, תדמור, שרעבי, ריף, מארי, פיטרסון. שיחה (בעיקר) על הוצאה לאור הספרים המופיעים בפרק: אנה קארנינה / לב ניקולייביץ' טולסטוי המפה והטריטוריה / מישל וולבק תפוס ת'יהודי / טוביה טננבום מלחמה ושלום / לב ניקולייביץ' טולסטוי חטוף / אלי שרעבי 12 כללים לחיים / ג'ורדן פיטרסון הוא חזר / טימור ורמש פלטפורמה / מישל וולבק החייל האמיץ שווייק / ירוסלב האשק אני ישן בחדרו של היטלר / טוביה טננבום הסוד / רונדה בירן כניעה / מישל וולבק המוות המוזר של אירופה / דאגלס מאריי יוליסס / ג'יימס ג'ויס ביום בו תקרא לי אבא / אביעד פרידמן מדוע אתה מצביע ימין ומקבל שמאל? / ארז תדמור יותר יהודי ממך / אלקס ריף טפשונת משטרים / אלקס ריף רוזה / נורית כהן The Pity of War / Niall Ferguson Human action, a treatise on economics / Ludwig Von Mises Let The Stones Speak / Dan Gibson, Chad Doell , Walter Schumm Support the show: https://www.e-vrit.co.il/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Our thoughts about The Life Of A Showgirl! Some surprising Keith Urban updates! Some One Direction news! And lots more! Enjoy!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

“The King of Compassion” Matthew 9:18-38 October 5, 2025 Pastor Tony Felich  Sermon Application [file]   ----more---- Matthew 9:18 While he was saying these things to them, behold, a ruler came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” [19] And Jesus rose and followed him, with his disciples. [20] And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, [21] for she said to herself, “If I only touch his garment, I will be made well.” [22] Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well. [23] And when Jesus came to the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, [24] he said, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. [25] But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl arose. [26] And the report of this went through all that district. [27] And as Jesus passed on from there, two blind men followed him, crying aloud, “Have mercy on us, Son of David.” [28] When he entered the house, the blind men came to him, and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” They said to him, “Yes, Lord.” [29] Then he touched their eyes, saying, “According to your faith let it be done to you.” [30] And their eyes were opened. And Jesus sternly warned them, “See that no one knows about it.” [31] But they went away and spread his fame through all that district. [32] As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. [33] And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, “Never was anything like this seen in Israel.” [34] But the Pharisees said, “He casts out demons by the prince of demons.” [35] And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. [36] When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. [37] Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; [38] therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”   Our Messiah King responds to human needs with divine compassion — and He calls His followers to show that same compassion.           • Compassion for the grief stricken (18-25)          • Mercy for the suffering (26-31)          • Pity on the spiritually oppressed (32-34)          • Care for bodies and souls (35-36)          • Moved by the magnitude of the need (37-38)

This episode features a full length Bible study taught by Pastor Jack Abeelen of Morningstar Christian Chapel in Whittier, California.If today you prayed with Pastor Jack to receive the Lord, we'd love to hear about it and get you started on the right foot. Visit us online at: https://morningstarcc.org/born-again/To see more of Pastor Jack's Bible studies, visit our Morningstar Christian Chapel channel at https://www.youtube.com/@morningstarcc.To subscribe to our Podcast newsletter go to http://eepurl.com/iGzsP6.If you would like to support our electronic ministry, you may do so by going to our donations page at https://morningstarcc.churchcenter.com/giving/to/podcast.Visit our church website at https://morningstarcc.org.

Are you willing to sacrifice a little comfort to see others come tofaith in Christ?

At the Contains Strong Language Festival in Bradford, Tom Sutcliffe and guests explore the history and culture of the city, and nation, through its poetry and stories. From battlefields and royal courts, coalmines to curry houses Start the Week looks at the language and rhythms that have captured the country. The historian Catherine Clarke is retelling the story of the past in a new way in ‘A History of England in 25 Poems'. From the 8th century to today these verses illuminate the experiences, emotions and imaginations of those who lived through it. As the 2025 City of Culture, Bradford gets an imaginative re-making in ‘The Book of Bradford: A City in Short Fiction', a collection filled with rich diversity and youthful energy. Its editor Saima Mir, who grew up in the city, says the stories don't avoid the scars of past challenges, but there's pride in a city that has overcome differences and is looking ahead.Moving on from the past is also reflected in Andrew McMillan's debut novel, ‘Pity', which follows three generations of a Yorkshire mining family, exploring themes of masculinity and post-industrial decline. As a prize-winning poet, McMillan will also be performing at the Contains Strong Language Festival in Bradford.Producer: Katy Hickman Assistant Producer: Natalia Fernandez

Chip Scoggins joins Scott Korzenowski for two segments of talk on the Vikings, Lynx and more. Later, Korzo explains why he feels bad for Pam Bondi and the spot she is in under President Trump and we react to news that Jimmy Kimmel will return to his show tomorrow night.

Geoff and Marie's Good Life: Part 14Geoff  The ModelGeoffrey's Cock Immortalized.Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.We had paid for the J and W Rum and left the store when a rather naughty thought occurred to me, and I freely admit to being both deeply ashamed and inordinately proud of it at the same time. "Why not ask Tony if we can rent the upstairs room at The Black Swan for a couple of hours," I suggested. "That way you can have a proper birthday party in private and we could see how it might work for our wedding.""Isn't a bit big for just us seven girls? Or, I suppose nine if Wendy and Jane come along too.""I was thinking of popping along as well, if I'm welcome," I told her, mischievously. "I thought that I might also invite some friends. You know, for a bigger audience for the birthday girl's special treat." I gave special a very sleazy emphasis."You wouldn't!" She gasped in astonished horror a moment later, as she realized what I was proposing."It's her fantasy," I reminded her. "At our age, when would she ever get the chance again?""She'd be mortified. What if she gets stage fright and can't go on?" Marie protested. "Then she'll feel as though she's let everyone down.""What if she doesn't, and she gets the chance to give a live sex performance in front of total strangers as well as her friends," I countered. "This has been her fantasy since she saw that one in Amsterdam when she was in her twenties. You and I, along with our friends, could make it happen, this week. Her life-long unfulfilled dream; why would we not?"I understood Marie's reluctance. Despite my enthusiasm, I wasn't oblivious to all the things that might go wrong. Our audience needed to be discreet; the setting private and the atmosphere warm and intimate. If this was going to happen, I had three days to arrange it. Grand: I enjoyed a challenge."Who would you invite?" Marie asked. Aha! She was considering it."All your friends will be there, of course, including Margie and Sue, Charles if he can make it, Wendy and Jane, Ken and his wife, Mike and his two ladies and our student friends. Not quite twenty in the audience.""That's a lot of people," she mused."All the better," I countered."What about you?" It was a reasonable question. A solo performance was okay in principle, but that wasn't Jo's fantasy. She needed a sex partner, a performing cock, me."I think I'm okay with it," I replied. "I've given business critical presentations in front of important clients, academics, ministers. Some to groups of a hundred or more. This, in front of friends, actually seems less intimidating; for now at least.""Just when I think I have your measure, my love," she smiled at me. "You surprise me once again." She touched my cheek, fondly. "Don't ever stop."I was slightly distracted driving home, making a mental list of what needed to be done by Friday. Then something Marie had said registered. "You said that Jo should have been with us tomorrow," I recalled. "Who will be coming, then?""Well, it should have been Jo and Kate. Then Megan and Sam, then Angie and Lucy and then, of course, we have to fit in Margie and Sue." She frowned in frustration. "But you sleep with Angie and me regularly. And Lucy almost as often, it seems. You only just fucked Megan this afternoon and Margie and Sue over the weekend." She tutted to herself. "Angie's getting quite vexed at the way your random copulations are messing up her spreadsheet." She gave me a wry smile across the car. "Little Geoffrey's been a busy boy just lately. Not that I'm complaining," she added quickly, in case I misunderstood. "I'm more than content that you're not neglecting me.""Wednesday night?" I reminded her of my original question."Well, that's the thing; isn't it?" She squirmed uncomfortably. "The obvious two are Kate and Sam."She was right of course. In Jo's absence, Megan would have been the obvious substitute. Megan whose bed I'd just left. The next in the sequence was Sam, the forty-something paramedic; Kate's daughter."Oh," I contributed, rather unhelpfully."Exactly," Marie replied. "But we knew that it could happen. We even decided that we would be prepared to invite them both on the same evening, but not to have our open-door policy afterwards. I think that encouraging incest, even lesbian incest, is a step too far." She smiled to herself. "Even for us."When got home, Marie was going to speak to Sam and Kate to explain the situation and find out how they felt about it, and then ring round to tell the others about our plan. I made some calls of my own.First was Tony, the landlord at The Black Swan. We'd just seen the room, but if it wasn't available, the whole prospect became more difficult. It was and I agreed to call in that evening to discuss the arrangements. That meant that I was free to invite guests. Like Marie, I shied away from involving family. As tempting as it was, Peter, Linda and their partners were not getting an invitation to see me banging one of Marie's best friends.Mike, my friend from my rugby days called to his wife when I told him my plan. She shouted back that they would all be delighted to come. She wanted to meet the people who had made the idea of their own formal three person relationship seem possible.Next was Adrian. He seemed to be the core of the group of students we'd met in the pub. He and Emily, his very submissive girlfriend, were close to Angie and me. They were both eager to come and he was sure that the others, Mark, Tabbie and Alice, would too.Our favorite taxi driver, Ken, seemed keen but he needed to speak to his wife, Cath, before he accepted for both of them. Personally, though I'd only spoken to her on the phone, I was sure that she'd agree.I had left it to Marie to speak to Wendy and Jane and also to see if Megan thought Charles might be able to attend. We met up about an hour later in the kitchen. Everyone we'd spoken to was on board, we merely needed confirmation from the others. I asked Marie how she'd described the plan to Wendy and Jane.She looked a little awkward. "I invited them to the pub to meet the girls. I told them that it was a surprise birthday party for one of my friends and, if you could arrange it at short notice, there might be some adult entertainment. I think that they are expecting a male stripper or something. They both seemed very enthusiastic."Sam had been on duty when my wife called. She had explained the situation to Kate who had promised to talk to her daughter and get back to us.We were deciding what to have for tea when Colin joined us. This time without his friend, Mia. "Hello, sweetheart," his grandma greeted him. "Where's your friend?""She does art club on Tuesdays after school. Her mum will pick her up.""Grandad was thinking about making a lamb keema for tea. Does that sound okay?""That sounds amazing," he replied. He's an easy lad to feed.I sent him off to start his homework while we prepped the meal. In ten minutes the onions were sliced, the garlic grated and the spices measured ready to add. I finished chopping the wilted spinach and checked the recipe. "All done, just twenty minutes cooking from start to finish."I left my wife to amuse herself and went in search of Colin. He was in my study frowning at my laptop. "Problem?" I asked."I have to give three examples of something called 'Entropy' and I can't really. I sort of understood in class, but it's just gone out of my head."A passage from a Douglas Adams book came to mind; something about the Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides, the Princes of The Plains and the Dwellers in the Forest. The first two would wage war with each other in the forest and the latter group would suffer terribly as collateral damage. When they asked why the war had to take place in their forest, the answer, The Reason, seemed so obvious while it was being explained but less so when they returned to the smoldering remains of their villages. Most folk would recognize the feeling. I tried to help. "Imagine this. Your mum has spent all Saturday morning cleaning and tidying your bedroom. What does it look like the following Friday?"He looked uncomfortable. "Not great," he mumbled."That's entropy," I explained. "Your mum expended energy to put things into an ordered state but, over time, that order decays towards randomness. Can you think of similar examples?""Like ruined castles?" He asked, uncertain."Exactly," I replied"Or copying a copy?""So describe what happens," I prompted him."We still have a copier at school. If you copy a new document, then the copy is pretty cool, but every time you copy a copy, the background gets greyer and the text gets paler. Eventually, you have to guess what some of the words are.""So now you have two examples of your own to submit, and you can use mine too. Is that it?" I checked. "Shall I leave you to type that up?"He looked uncomfortable. "The talk; About sex;”I waited."Is it bad?" He asked."Not really," I reassured him. "There's stuff you need to know now and things you really don't need to know in detail for a couple of years."He didn't look convinced."Okay," I began. "We'll start now so you don't get hung up worrying about having to have this talk later. We'll talk about how your body will change, how girls' bodies change and what utter bollocks your mates at school will tell you when they try to show off how much they know about sex."He seemed to relax and we sat talking quietly for forty minutes or so, me taking a break for a coffee part way through. He coped well, though he admitted that periods sounded gross. I pointed out that girls would probably agree, but they weren't, by and large, optional. He also seemed to understand my main point; that nature had come up with a simple formula: cock plus cunt equals pregnancy. Until we had our next talk, in a couple of years, dealing with the mechanics of sex, if he took nothing else from our chat, he really had to remember that straightforward equation.He obviously understood what I was telling him. "So girls can get pregnant doing it standing up?""Absolutely," I agreed."Then it sounds like some of the Year Elevens are gonna be really deep in the doo doo.""If they've been getting their sex-ed exclusively from someone's big brother who has a porn site subscription, then probably, yes.""Thanks grandad. That wasn't so bad." And so saying he went back to his physics. I left him to it and went off in search of my wife.Marie smiled up at me when I found her, reading in the lounge. "You are the total package aren't you, my love?"I looked at her, quizzically."Sex, my dear," she clarified. "I heard part of your tutorial with Colin. You seem to excel at the theoretical as well as the practical aspects. Now, if you ever manage to actually figure women out too, you could be a Nobel Prize contender."The very thought made me laugh out loud. "Now you mention it though." I lowered my voice and sat next to her. "I could do with talking to you about Lucy.""Before you begin," Marie responded. "May I say this?" I sat back and she continued. "Megan and I talk. She and Charles agree that Lucy is in love with you. Her first husband died, her second husband is a treacherous twat and you, my love, represent the closest thing in her life to a constant male source of support."She saw me struggling to understand. "Megan, Kate and Jo, Margie and Sue too, they just need sex. They like you and, more importantly, they trust you, but their feelings go no further than trust and affection."She carried on, while I listened, fascinated. "Sam needs your intuitive grasp of how to help her deal with her demons. She really needs professional help but she appreciates the way you empathize with her struggles.""Angie needs help dealing with the world. I'm not convinced she's actually neurodiverse but she does have issues with some social interactions. Personally, I wonder if it's just because she's so much more intelligent than the rest of us that she sees these social niceties, behaviors that are apparently so important to everyone else, as meaningless nonsense." Marie gave me a hard stare. "You, dear husband, are her bridge. You speak her language but you are connected to our world too. You give her confidence and, when you command her, you allow her to shut down all of her defenses and trust absolutely in you. She cherishes those moments of peace.""I, on the other hand, need a partner. Someone who shares my goals and values but with a different perspective. You and I together are greater than the sum of our parts. I can hardly believe how close we came to destroying something so perfect but it will never," her voice hardened, "ever, happen again. Adding Angie to what we already have extends our partnership in another dimension, one I'm looking forward to exploring."She took my hand. "And now back to your original point: All that Lucy needs from you is your love. Knowing that you feel the way that you do about her gives her value. She knows that she's a capable artist, but Eddie made her question herself as a woman. You love me; and Angie. You think Jo is gorgeous. But you've never been embarrassed to admit that you think Lucy is sexy. That does wonders for her self-esteem. Yes, you tease her about being a blonde dingbat, but that doesn't hurt her. She knows it's affectionate."You've seen her recent work. That's down to you; you let her rediscover the woman she was fifteen years ago and she wants to repay you. So let her. She would never do anything to harm what we have: so you and she may have the same freedom as you and Angie. Love her and let her show her love for you."I sat, quietly impressed by Marie's comprehensive analysis of my sex life. "Jane and Wendy?" I prompted her.She considered for a moment. "With the benefit of hindsight,' she conceded. "I should have let you sleep with Jane five or six years ago. She needed you, and Ben would have benefited from growing up having you as a role model. But;” Here she dipped her head in reluctant acknowledgement. "We just weren't ready.""Jane has had a thing for you since before her husband passed. An innocent enough crush at first, but your," She stared accusingly at me, "Your supposedly innocent flirting has given her hope of some sort of part emotional, part physical relationship."She sighed. "I think she needs to get laid; she needs to be reminded that she's more than a widow and a single mum; she needs the confidence to rebuild her life so she can move on."I nodded slowly. That sounded like a fair summary.My wife graciously accepted my agreement and carried on. "Wendy is more damaged. While Jane lost her husband to illness, she ought to realize that she's still an attractive woman. Wendy has been hurt, though, just like Lucy. She's convinced herself that her husband abandoned her, because she's; what did she call herself? "A great heffalump". You, in fact we, need to show her what a striking girl she actually is."Marie frowned as she chose her next words. "It's possible that we may have to have you date her.""Christ, Marie!" I exploded, taken by surprise. "I know we keep bending the rules, but this?""No, dear." She disagreed. "We keep ignoring the rules, especially when they interfere with what's needed. There should be only one rule; 'Primum non nocere'."I looked blankly at her. "First do no harm," she translated for my benefit. "Supposedly part of the Hippocratic Oath, but it seems just as relevant here. If we can help Wendy at no risk to our marriage, what is the point of an arbitrary rule, however well intentioned, that prevents us? In fact." I got another hard stare. "Isn't this similar to the argument you used to persuade me to go along with your scheme for Jo?"Well, no not really: perhaps a little. Okay, quite similar in a way. She went back to her book while I considered her words. Nothing she had said changed the way I viewed our friends. She had reminded me what an amazing woman I'd been lucky enough to marry though. I was still savoring that thought when Colin joined us.He explained his homework to his gran while I listened to make sure that he'd understood just how fundamental the concept of entropy was. When he said, "And grandma, it applies to everything, mountains, stars, even people." I stood; my work here was done. My work in the kitchen, however, was just about to start.We had a civilized, if spicy, meal with Linda and Colin then, once they had left, I reminded my wife that I had an appointment at the pub. She decided to send me on my own, saying that she would look for a suitable way to wrap Jo's birthday present while I was gone. She did suggest that I might like to limit my beer input and hurry back, as she fancied an early night. I still had a few hours' worth of my erection pill coursing through my system, so that sounded like a most excellent idea.It was still fairly quiet in the bar when I arrived. I ordered a pint and Tony pulled one for himself and joined me at a table, leaving the barmaid to cope on her own. I explained that it was Marie's friend's birthday on Friday and that I intended to invite some additional guests to their usual 'girly get together' as a surprise.He looked levelly at me. "I believe every word," he told me. "But you're not telling me everything. Go on; spill."I gave him one last chance. "Plausible deniability," I explained. "There may be some adult entertainment involved. If you were prepared to let us have the room with a locked door, you couldn't be accused of being complicit."

Today David Waldman welcomes the distinguished Ian Reifowitz, author of Riling Up the Base: Examining Trump's Use of Stereotypes through an Interdisciplinary Lens, to connect the dots interdisciplinarily between Donald K. Trump riling up his base and the stuff we're presently going through. Trump will certainly receive his long sought-after Pulitzer Prize after scooping the entire lamestream media to report that his boy Kash Patel finally caught his man, with some assistance from Matt Robinson, a 27-year veteran of the Washington County Sheriff's Department and father of the alleged shooter Tyler Robinson… Yep, cis, white, Christian, Republican, gun nut, Trump fan Tyler Robinson…  Here we all were thinking that we witnessed a political assassination, when it kind of looks like Charlie Kirk might have just shot himself. Let's learn more about guns! Slap that like! Pity the poor Gops and Trump who required a Horst Wessel to carry them into the midterms. Oh well, back to that Ukranian girl. Meanwhile, South Koreans rejoice to see Korean political prisoners escape American clutches. And Brazilians dance in the streets even more than usual to see their democracy hold strong. Marco Rubio vows revenge. Remember, that's Riling Up the Base: Examining Trump's Use of Stereotypes through an Interdisciplinary Lens, with a live Q&A and book signing this September 30 at Barnes & Noble at 1550 3rd Avenue in Manhattan! Meet the Author, Ian Reifowitz, and mention my name for a free soft drink refill!

So now we know: Erin Patterson will be 82 before she gets the chance to get out of jail; if she gets out at all.This will make her one of Victoria’s longest-serving female inmates.But the revelations from Patterson’s sentencing hearing, in the Supreme Court of Victoria on Monday morning, leaned less to the historic, and more to the primal.Today, crime and justice reporter Erin Pearson, on the people impacted by Patterson’s premeditated and pitiless cruelty, and what the judge made of them. And the unexpected moments of mercy and forgiveness that Patterson was, nevertheless, offered by one of them.Subscribe to The Age & SMH: https://subscribe.smh.com.au/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

So now we know: Erin Patterson will be 82 before she gets the chance to get out of jail; if she gets out at all.This will make her one of Victoria’s longest-serving female inmates.But the revelations from Patterson’s sentencing hearing, in the Supreme Court of Victoria on Monday morning, leaned less to the historic, and more to the primal.Today, crime and justice reporter Erin Pearson, on the people impacted by Patterson’s premeditated and pitiless cruelty, and what the judge made of them. And the unexpected moments of mercy and forgiveness that Patterson was, nevertheless, offered by one of them.Subscribe to The Age & SMH: https://subscribe.smh.com.au/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Freddie

Send us a textHow do you deal with people who do not like you, or want to be around you, or who do not treat you well? What about self-focused people who can't see past themselves to love others, including you? Today we look at an empathy progress scale to learn to see others properly, emotionally, like Jesus sees them. Then we examine the need to be okay with not being liked. The goal isn't to have people treat you better. The goal is for them to find their way in Christ to become better people. The funny thing is, when it is less about you and more about them, you get more joy out of life and have a greater promise of repaired relationships. Daily Bible Devotional (Volumes 1 and 2):Amazon - (paperback, hardcover, and Kindle)Sponsors:  Spiritbuilding Publishers Website:  www.spiritbuilding.comTyler Cain, Senior Loan Officer, Statewide MortgageWebsites: https://statewidemortgage.com/https://tylercain.floify.com/Phone: 813-380-8487

Eryn Phelps is a licensed trauma counselor who specializes in helping outdoor athletes with anxiety, OCD, and PTSD. We talked about how EMDR helped cancer survivor and podcast guest Sol Wertkin, how to navigate time scarcity and get clear on what you want, overwhelm and panic attacks, grief and shame, labels and identity, and much more.Rúngne (Chalk & Apparel)rungne.info/nuggetUse code “NUGGET” for 10% off storewide, and use code “SHIPPINGNUGGETS” for free shipping.Mad Rock (Shoes & Crash Pads)madrock.comUse code “NUGGET10” at checkout for 10% off your next order.Chilipad (Don't Lose Sleep this Summer)Get 20% off any Chilipad sleep systemNADS (Organic Cotton Underwear)Use code STEVEN for 15% offBecome a Patron:patreon.com/thenuggetclimbingShow Notes:  thenuggetclimbing.com/episodes/eryn-phelpsNuggets:(00:00:00) – Intro(00:01:26) – Partners(00:05:56) – Sol Wertkin(00:12:54) – EMDR(00:27:19) – Sol continued(00:34:00) – Pity, empathy, & compassion(00:39:15) – Perception & victim mindset(00:54:41) – Preventing negative beliefs from taking root(01:00:08) – Mistakes, guilt, & shame(01:05:21) – Trauma from injury(01:10:21) – Grief(01:15:23) – Accepting risk(01:25:23) – Relationships(01:31:27) – Time scarcity & OCD(01:44:17) – Labels & identity(01:48:58) – Anxiety(01:51:53) – Overwhelm(01:58:39) – Panic attacks(02:04:06) – Curing anxiety, PTSD, & OCD(02:09:28) – Getting clear on what you want(02:24:02) – How Eryn makes decisions(02:26:40) – A grass kinda day(02:29:00) – Where to find Eryn(02:32:11) – Complacency & communication(02:36:44) – Dopamine

Another episode, another three films you don't necessarily expect to be in conversation with one another...Eddington, Sorry, Baby, and Give Me Pity!  This will be last Amanda Kramer film for a while until So Unreal and By Design are released. But rest assured, when that happens, we'll be on it. Support Why Does the Wilhelm Scream Keep in touch and read more at whydoesthewilhelmscream.com on instagram and threads @whydoesthewilhelmpod  Find out more about upcoming Fort Worth Film Club screenings and events at fortworthfilmclub.com and @fortworthfilm Support the next generation of film lovers at reelhousefoundation.org and on facebook reelhousefoundation Artwork by @_mosla_

Let's end this series with one of the most powerful mindset shifts I've learned:Throw shorter pity parties.In the final episode of my Summer Soundtracks Series, I'm sharing why it's okay to feel the sting of failure—but not okay to camp out in it forever. I'll unpack the difference between processing and pity, and challenge you to stop RSVPing to every pity party you throw for yourself. Let's talk about what it looks like to feel it, process it, and then move forward.In This Episode:Grab a Soundtrack Conversation Deck for that overthinker in your life today!Make sure to follow me on Instagram and share with your friends!Keep up with my book list on GoodReads!Sign up for my newsletter, Try This!Book me to speak at your event or to your team!My new book All It Takes Is a Goal is available! You can grab a copy from your favorite bookstore or at atgbook.com.Grab my books, Soundtracks and Finish, today!Episode Artwork Photo by Eastman Childs on UnsplashHave me speak at your next event!

Wednesday 7/23/25

Pity the poor Cowboy fan. Doomed to loud and sometimes comical failure by an octagenerian who still thinks he's the smartest man in pro football. SCOTT LINN and STEVE SOLOMON join me a on rare Tuesday where you get the OG's for FREE this week! We talk NFL news cycle ramping up, Mike Brown's big ol' Charlie Brown head, "bald bias" in media and advertising, Steelers throwbacks, therapy piano horses and a whole lot more! Enjoy!Our Sponsors:* Check out Hims: https://hims.com/CZABE* Check out Indeed: https:// indeed.com/CZABEAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for July 15, 2025 is: tantalize • TAN-tuh-lyze • verb To tantalize someone is to cause them to feel interest or excitement about something that is very attractive, appealing, etc. // She was tantalized by the prospect of a big promotion. See the entry > Examples: "Craving a culinary adventure? Look no further than Manila Street Treats, nestled within the vibrant Tapatio Produce International Market and Shops building in Elkton. This hidden gem offers a diverse menu of Filipino and international flavors that will tantalize your taste buds." — Chester County Press (Oxford, Pennsylvania), 1 Apr. 2025 Did you know? Pity poor King Tantalus of Lydia. The mythic monarch offended the ancient Greek gods, and was sentenced, according to Homer's Odyssey, to suffer in Hades the following punishment: to stand neck-deep in water, beneath overhanging boughs of a tree heavily laden with ripe, juicy fruit. But though he was always hungry and thirsty, Tantalus could neither drink the water nor eat the fruit: anytime he moved to get them, they would retreat from his reach. Our word tantalize is taken from the name of the eternally tormented king.

It's the Leatt LVK: More Than Moto show where Start Your Systems' Kellen Brauer and Vital MX's Lewis Phillips debate current SX/MX/MXGP topics as well as general life itself. In Episode 66, we break down what happened to Haiden Deegan, some riders facing illness, feel good 250 stories, the 450SMX championship, Vialle and HRC, and more. It's all brought to you by Leatt, Namura, Race Tech, and Partzilla.

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit smokeempodcast.substack.comDan Savage: What better person to explain the mess that is the P Diddy trial? The “Savage Love” columnist/podcaster chats with Sarah and Nancy about the hip-hop mogul's fetishes, OCD kinksters, the troubling statute of limitations on domestic abuse, and the dangerous elasticity of the term “sex trafficking.” This one is fascinating, fraught, and taught us a lot!Also discussed:* “It's not RICO, it's FREAK-O!”* Dan stans Steve & Eydie* Sarah is a little cinnamon, Nancy's straight-up vanilla* White parties started in gay culture?* “A moment of silence for the staff of these hotels…”* Clive Owens gets swapped with Clive Davis in a WILD WAY* “There's something Caligula about Combs …”* It's all about the glisten* “Sex always wins.”* Hotwifing??* “I got cheated on, YAHTZEE!”* “Pity sex is not rape”* Men find their kinks at 15, women at 35* Very tricky: Consent versus coercion* “Good giving and game” might needs some corrections/clarifications* The case for decriminalization of sex work* The moral panic of “sex trafficking”* The elasticity of the word “rape”Plus, some (qualified) props for Monica Lewinsky, Sarah pouts because Nancy's going on a date with another Sarah, New Orleans cops know all the lyrics to "Fairytale of New York,” and much more!

Fromatoarbitration.com