Podcasts about Priapus

 https://www.iservalan.com https://www.taletellerclub.comChapter 2: Classical Antiquity – Pleasure, Power, and Myth(Greece, Rome, India, China, Japan)Erotic Art in the Classical World: Sensuality, Divinity, and the Human FormThe civilizations of Greece and Rome profoundly shaped Western attitudes toward eroticism, beauty, and the human body. Meanwhile, in Asia, India, China, and Japan developed their own rich traditions of erotic art, where sexuality was intertwined with spirituality, aesthetics, and philosophy. Across these cultures, erotic imagery was not just about desire—it was deeply connected to mythology, religious devotion, and social identity.The Greek Celebration of the Nude and the DivineAncient Greek art (c. 800–146 BCE) is renowned for its idealized representations of the human form, including sensual and erotic depictions. Unlike later Western traditions, which often moralized sexuality, the Greeks saw eroticism as an essential aspect of life, closely tied to their gods, heroes, and social structures.The Male Nude and Homoeroticism in Greek ArtGreek sculptures and vase paintings frequently depicted the nude male body as a symbol of beauty, strength, and divine perfection. The kouroi (statues of young men) and later the works of sculptors like Phidias, Polykleitos, and Praxiteles showcased a balance of realism and idealism.Homoeroticism played a significant role in Greek culture, particularly in the institution of pederasty, where older men (erastai) mentored and formed relationships with younger men (eromenoi). While controversial today, these relationships were embedded in Greek education, social bonding, and military camaraderie. Erotic vase paintings and sculptures, such as those on the Warren Cup, openly depicted same-sex relationships without stigma.Aphrodite and the Feminine EroticThe goddess Aphrodite, associated with love and beauty, was a central figure in Greek erotic art. The first known fully nude female sculpture, Aphrodite of Knidos by Praxiteles (c. 360 BCE), marked a shift in the portrayal of female sensuality. While earlier depictions of women were clothed, this work introduced the eroticized nude female body as an artistic norm in Western art.Rome: Eroticism, Excess, and Moral ContradictionsThe Romans inherited much from Greek artistic traditions but added their own flair for luxury, satire, and explicit eroticism. Roman erotic art ranged from refined frescoes in wealthy villas to bawdy graffiti in brothels, revealing a culture that embraced sexuality in both elite and everyday contexts.Pompeii and Herculaneum: A Window into Roman EroticismThe eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 CE preserved vast amounts of erotic art in Pompeii and Herculaneum, offering an unparalleled glimpse into Roman attitudes toward sexuality. Frescoes from the Villa of the Mysteries and Lupanar (brothel) depict explicit scenes, suggesting that sexuality was not hidden but woven into public and private life.One of the most famous artifacts, the Priapus fresco, shows the god Priapus weighing his exaggerated phallus against a bag of money—a humorous but symbolic image of fertility and prosperity. Romans often associated large phallic imagery with protection, luck, and virility.Satire and Social Commentary in Roman EroticaWhile erotic art was common, Rome also saw moral pushback against sexual excess. Writers like Ovid (Metamorphoses, Ars Amatoria) celebrated love and seduction, while others, like Juvenal, satirized the decadence of Roman society. The Augustan moral reforms (1st century BCE) attempted to impose sexual restraint, yet erotic art continued to flourish, reflecting the contradictions within Roman attitudes toward pleasure.Erotic Art in Ancient India: The Sacred and the SensualEroticism in ancient India was deeply entwined with spirituality, particularly through Hinduism and Tantra. Unlike in the West, where sexuality was often seen in opposition to religious purity, Indian art frequently depicted sensuality as an extension of divine energy.Temple Eroticism: Khajuraho and KonarkThe Khajuraho temple complex (c. 950–1050 CE) and the Konark Sun Temple (c. 13th century CE) feature intricate sculptures of deities, lovers, and erotic acts. These reliefs, far from being mere decoration, reflect the Hindu belief that sexual union mirrors cosmic unity and divine creation.The Kama Sutra and Indian Erotic TextsAttributed to Vātsyāyana, the Kama Sutra (3rd century CE) is one of the most famous texts on love and eroticism. Contrary to its popular perception as a sex manual, it is a sophisticated treatise on pleasure, relationships, and aesthetics. Accompanying illustrations in later manuscripts helped visualize its teachings, making it one of the most influential works of erotic literature.Erotic Art in Ancient China: Daoism and Sensual BalanceIn China, erotic art was shaped by Confucian ideals, Daoist philosophy, and later Buddhist influences. While Confucianism promoted restraint, Daoism embraced sexuality as a path to harmony and longevity.Daoist Sexual Arts and Painted ScrollsDaoist texts, such as the "Art of the Bedchamber", describe sexual practices believed to extend life and health. Erotic scroll paintings from the Tang (618–907 CE) and Song (960–1279 CE) dynasties often depicted intimate scenes with poetic inscriptions, emphasizing sensuality rather than crude explicitness.Later, during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1912) dynasties, erotic books known as "spring pictures" (春宫图) became popular among the elite, blending humor, philosophy, and eroticism.Japan's Shunga: The Floating World of SensualityJapanese erotic art, or Shunga (春画), flourished during the Edo period (1603–1868). These woodblock prints, created by masters such as Hokusai and Utamaro, depicted erotic encounters with both aesthetic refinement and explicit detail. Unlike in the West, where erotic art often faced suppression, Shunga was widely enjoyed across social classes.Shunga as Art, Satire, and InstructionShunga prints were not just pornographic; they served multiple purposes, including sexual education, humor, and even political satire. Some depicted fantastical elements, such as Hokusai's famous "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife", blending eroticism with mythology.Conclusion: Classical Eroticism as a Reflection of CultureThe erotic art of classical antiquity reveals a diversity of attitudes toward sexuality:Idealized beauty and divine connection – Greek and Roman art celebrated the nude as an emblem of perfection.Religious and cosmic symbolism – Hindu and Daoist traditions saw sexuality as a path to spiritual enlightenment.Humor and satire – Roman and Japanese art often infused eroticism with wit and social commentary.While some traditions embraced erotic art as sacred, others saw it as a source of indulgence or controversy. The tension between openness and censorship would continue to shape erotic art in the centuries to come.The Warren Cup (1st century CE, Roman) A silver drinking cup featuring detailed homoerotic scenes, the Warren Cup provides insight into Roman attitudes toward male-male relationships. Hidden for centuries, it is now a key artifact in LGBTQ+ art history.Khajuraho Temple Reliefs (10th–11th century CE, India)These intricate sculptures depict a range of erotic acts, reinforcing the Hindu belief in sexuality as a divine force. Unlike Western art, which often separated the sacred from the sensual, Khajuraho integrates both seamlessly.The Frescoes of the Villa of the Mysteries (1st Century BCE, Pompeii, Roman Empire)The Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii contains one of the most famous and enigmatic fresco cycles from ancient Rome. While not explicitly erotic, many scholars believe the images depict a Dionysian initiation ritual, potentially related to sacred sexuality and mystery cults. The frescoes feature semi-nude figures, suggestive interactions, and themes of divine ecstasy, linking sexuality to spiritual transformation. This example highlights how Romans often blended eroticism with religious and ritualistic themes rather than treating it as purely physical pleasure.Shunga by Kitagawa Utamaro (1753–1806, Edo Period, Japan)Kitagawa Utamaro, one of the most celebrated ukiyo-e artists, created numerous Shunga (春画, "spring pictures"), which depicted intimate encounters with exquisite detail and elegance. His prints, such as Poem of the Pillow, emphasized the sensuality of touch, fabric, and movement, offering a refined and almost poetic take on erotic imagery. His work also often featured women's pleasure and agency, making it a significant contribution to the study of feminine desire in erotic art.#stencilart #originalart #investment art #blinkfrictionart #blinkfrictionfashion #reclaimart #reclaimfashion

It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more -- the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey's misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, "I have something to show you," he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, "Ooh, you little pervert, you!" She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?"Well, what do you want? Who are you?" She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, "it would not do." Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. "I have this to show you," Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn... or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.' She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey's reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey's tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry."Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?" Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like... like... semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain."May I, may I please suck it," she asked in a small, little girl's voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him."You may," he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl's mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?"Come," he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy' old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club' or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order's purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors' and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey's jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey's bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan's understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey's skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman's body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey's eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey's hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey's lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man's teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey's pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey's sensitive button and she winced slightly. "Why?" she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning."Because it is necessary." He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman's questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey's case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order's goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey's grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.

It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more -- the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey's misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, "I have something to show you," he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, "Ooh, you little pervert, you!" She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?"Well, what do you want? Who are you?" She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, "it would not do." Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. "I have this to show you," Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn... or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.' She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey's reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey's tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry."Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?" Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like... like... semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain."May I, may I please suck it," she asked in a small, little girl's voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him."You may," he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl's mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?"Come," he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy' old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club' or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order's purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors' and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey's jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey's bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan's understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey's skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman's body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey's eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey's hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey's lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man's teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey's pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey's sensitive button and she winced slightly. "Why?" she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning."Because it is necessary." He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman's questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey's case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order's goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey's grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.

It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more -- the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey's misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, "I have something to show you," he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, "Ooh, you little pervert, you!" She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?"Well, what do you want? Who are you?" She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, "it would not do." Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. "I have this to show you," Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn... or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.' She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey's reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey's tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry."Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?" Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like... like... semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain."May I, may I please suck it," she asked in a small, little girl's voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him."You may," he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl's mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?"Come," he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy' old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club' or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order's purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors' and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey's jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey's bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan's understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey's skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman's body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey's eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey's hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey's lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man's teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey's pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey's sensitive button and she winced slightly. "Why?" she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning."Because it is necessary." He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman's questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey's case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order's goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey's grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.

It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more -- the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey's misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, "I have something to show you," he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, "Ooh, you little pervert, you!" She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?"Well, what do you want? Who are you?" She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, "it would not do." Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. "I have this to show you," Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn... or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.' She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey's reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey's tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry."Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?" Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like... like... semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain."May I, may I please suck it," she asked in a small, little girl's voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him."You may," he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl's mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?"Come," he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy' old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club' or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order's purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors' and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey's jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey's bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan's understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey's skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman's body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey's eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey's hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey's lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man's teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey's pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey's sensitive button and she winced slightly. "Why?" she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning."Because it is necessary." He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman's questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey's case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order's goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey's grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.

fWotD Episode 2708: Secretum (British Museum) Welcome to Featured Wiki of the Day, your daily dose of knowledge from Wikipedia’s finest articles.The featured article for Thursday, 3 October 2024 is Secretum (British Museum).The Secretum (Latin for "hidden away") was a British Museum collection of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that held artefacts and images deemed sexually graphic. Many of the items were amulets, charms and votive offerings, often from pre-Christian traditions, including the worship of Priapus, a Greco-Roman god of fertility and male genitalia. Items from other cultures covered wide ranges of human history, including ancient Egypt, the classical era Greco-Roman world, the ancient Near East, medieval England, Japan and India.Many of the early donations or sales to the museum, including those from the collectors Sir Hans Sloane, Sir William Hamilton, Richard Payne Knight and Charles Townley, contained items with erotic or sexually graphic images; these were separated out by museum staff and not put on public display. Modern scholars believe the segregation was probably motivated by a paternalistic stance from the museum to keep what they considered morally dangerous material away from all except scholars and members of the clergy. By the 1860s there were around 700 such items held by the museum. In 1865 the antiquarian George Witt donated his phallocentric collection of 434 artefacts to the museum, which led to the formal setting up of the Secretum to hold his collection and similar items. The Secretum collection began to be gradually broken up in 1912, with the transfer of items into departments appropriate for their time frame and culture. The last entry into the Secretum was in 1953, when the British Library found 18th-century condoms being used as bookmarks in a 1783 publication they held. The last remaining items were moved out of the collection in 2005.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 01:07 UTC on Thursday, 3 October 2024.For the full current version of the article, see Secretum (British Museum) on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm neural Amy.

P Shot (Priapus Shot) for ED and Results

The most loving thing you could get for grandma might be a tube of Poly-Grip. The most stupidest thing currently on TikTok are morons eating poison. The most trendy thing the New York elite are getting nowadays are "vampire facials for the penis". And the stupidest thing you're doing is listening to more stupidity... Seagull Statue in MA Town With a Female Figure Dubbed 'Too Sexy'; 'Penis Fish' by the Thousands Wash Ashore After Heavy Storms; That Was No Bass a Boy Caught in an Oklahoma Pond; Scammers are using AI to mimic voices of loved ones in distress; More Than 40% of Young Adults Think Marriage Is an Outdated Tradition; Alligator waits for a ride at Florida bus stop; A Restaurant's Spicy Dragon Balls Caused Chemical Burns in a Woman's Throat; Jury Awards Girl $800K for McDonald's Chicken Nugget Burn; A Man Stole 3 Cakes with His Face Printed on Them; These Lithuanian Penis-Flavored Potato Chips Can Be Yours for Just $7; Trader Joe's Recalled Some Cookies, Because They Might Contain Rocks; A Mistake on Cap'n Crunch's Uniform Has Finally Been Fixed--After 60 Years; Landlord Secretly Airbnb's Someone's Apartment While They Were on Vacation; Woman Turns 4 Pounds of Excess Skin Into Human Leather; Man Pulls a Gun on an Internet Repairman Because He Didn't Do the Job; Coffee Company Releases Insanely Spicy Carolina Reaper Flavor. Play along with "Pancho" this week & see if you can do better then he can at guessing in the "Insane Game Show" & find the answers to life's biggest questions when you hear his profound wisdom as he answers more questions from those who want to "ASK PANCHO" for some advice! "Pancho" addresses the burning questions about “Help! – My Parents Are Against My Break Up" & “Help! – My Parents Always Want Me To Visit Them". Don't forget to download the TELEGRAM MESSENGER & join the ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠"Insane Erik Lane's Stupid World" Channel⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to read the actual stories used for the podcast & check out the photos & videos with them! It's FREE & available for Windows, Linux, Android, & Apple for both mobile & desktop! If this podcast doesn't push your buttons, this one will! Join Daniel Leslie for "The Button Pusher" Podcast on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Spotify⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠! --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/eriklane/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/eriklane/support

It does not do to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.“Men and their erections,”“Men and their erections,” Tacey laughed shrilly, “if you could harness them you’d solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks…”The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a ‘Teors’ was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock’ as the girl had done, a 'willy’ or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master’s private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit’ of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before.“It will not do, it will not do.” The Baculum’s words of wisdom enervated Jonathan.“I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo.” The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, “It will do.”They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists’ impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. “I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.”“Do.”Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more – the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey’s misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, “I have something to show you,” he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, “Ooh, you little pervert, you!” She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?“Well, what do you want? Who are you?” She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, “it would not do.” Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. “I have this to show you,” Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn… or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.’ She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey’s reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey’s tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry.“Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?” Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like… like… semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain.“May I, may I please suck it,” she asked in a small, little girl’s voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him.“You may,” he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl’s mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?“Come,” he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy’ old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club’ or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order’s purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors’ and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey’s jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey’s bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan’s understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey’s skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman’s body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey’s eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey’s hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey’s lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man’s teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey’s pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey’s sensitive button and she winced slightly. “Why?” she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning.“Because it is necessary.” He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman’s questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey’s case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order’s goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey’s grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.That was not the modern way. The Bacalum placed great store, not on punishment, but in behavioural correction. He saw the female mind as plastic and easily mouldable. A woman’s mind could change swiftly and, he reasoned, could therefore be changed easily. He believed strongly, much more so than his predecessors, in the use of the Mesmodildo for mind correction. It so eased compliance with change.Tacey had heard the accusation, must understand the gravity of her disrespect. Jonathan knew it was time and was gratified his thoughts were so in tune with the Bacalum for, at that very moment he knew it was time, the Bacalum raised his staff, a rod of iron surmounted by the bulbous end of a teors worked in silver filigree, and pronounced, “Do.”As one the knights, with both hands, pulled apart their robes disclosing to the single woman their rampant male nakedness beneath: it was the ancient and ritualistic Teorsic Flash. The sight of so many erect organs could have but one effect on Tacey, instinctively, as of a folk memory, she made a low curtsy, the obeisance, to the Teors. Awed, she saw each erect organ was bound in one, two or even three gold rings tightly held by the flesh that had expanded into them. They held their robes apart exposing their tumescent maleness to her, just to her; Jonathan could barely credit the honour being done to Tacey; to have revealed to her, to actually see, one hundred teors at a single time; moreover so beautifully bound in gold and framed by the red robes of the Order. It was breathtaking. She was honoured but awed. Never again, he knew, could she be disrespectful of the teors—not after such an experience under the influence of the Mesmodildo.There was a hush, the chanting ceased, and from his robes Jonathan drew out the wonderful golden Mesmodildo. This time, in the great hall of the Knights of the Teors he fully unsheathed it and it shone in the candlelight, its great pearl drawing all eyes to it, perhaps most of all those eyes already weeping the Second Wonder. Jonathan held it aloft and let his robe slip from him. Completely naked, apart from the leather band around his teors, the three gold rings tightly encircling his shaft and the silver ring around the small toe of his left foot (for reasons lost in the mists of time), he advanced upon Tacey. Her eyes widened and her mouth took on the shape of the Teorsic Circle. A proper expression of respect.But it was not between her lips that the Mesmodildo was destined. She had seen and sucked upon the artefact already but now, to complete the ritual, the great pearl must penetrate between her legs and rise up to touch the very entrance to her womb. The Specto, Combibo and Penetralis must be completed.The idea that Jonathan should kneel before Tacey and make the insertion was clearly misconceived. It would not do for a Knight of the Teors to kneel before a woman however important the ritualistic purpose. It was unthinkable. She would have to be raised. Such a lifting would have the benefit of making the act visible to all the knights; and clearly they would all wish to see the Penetralis. It was a problem long ago faced by the Order and brilliantly solved by Meatus XI, Bacalum 1895-1906, by the use of a ladder.In reality the method was somewhat more complicated than a simple ladder; in essence it was a pair of step ladders placed side by side but on castors. The girl, slipping her garment from her shoulders to the floor, ascended the steps, one foot to each set of steps until she reached the summit; when she was there, one foot set on top of each of the set of steps, the pair were moved apart, gradually widening the gap and causing the girl’s legs to open and splay, allowing the Dildick, or dildo wielder, easy access. The system had since been refined. Initially there were unfortunate and undignified situations where the steps kept moving apart due to the free running castors and the girl did 'the splits’ to an excessive degree and fell to the confusion of the knights below. The developed version ran on rails with stops and the splay could be precisely set so the girl was spread according to her height. To steady her and to ensure she did not tumble she was provided, one to each set of steps, a staff to hold onto; the end result rather like a pair of library steps mounted on rails. Properly set the naked girl would appear above the assembled knights spread-eagled with legs well apart and arms akimbo as her hands grasped the finely carved teors at the ends of the two poles.In the Teorsic Trance, Tacey disrobed and ascended the steps; the knights leaning forward out of interest to see her the better; at the top she grasped the two upright teors surmounting the poles and two raphes carefully moved the steps aside opening her legs until fully spread; Jonathan moved forward and looked upwards. Above him, open and vulnerable was Tacey’s sex, visible not only to him but to the other knights as well. There was a pause for meditation and then Jonathon raised the Mesmodildo higher and higher until the great pearl touched Tacey. The effect was electric. As Jonathan continued to push the great gold teors into Tacey, her body shook as if charged with an electric current whilst the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced shook her body. In her befuddled mind, as the waves of pleasure hit her, all she could focus on were the hundred of gold banded teors. Her desire for them was strong.Beneath her Jonathan rotated the Mesmodildo three times, as required by the ritual, and withdrew holding it high for all to see. The chanting returned, filling the hall.Still experiencing orgasmic aftershocks, Tacey’s eyes focused on the Mesmodildo as she descended the steps. Clearly totally captivated by the sight of the golden teors and its pearl, Jonathan could turn Tacey’s head to the left or right simply by moving the object. He lowered it to his own teors and Tacey followed it down to kneel in front of him. Rotating the Mesmodildo from the vertical to the horizontal he slipped the great rounded head with its pearl into Tacey’s mouth. Within her mouth, he knew, would be the rapid flicking tongue, caressing the smoothness of the pearl imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage a desperate thirst.Jonathan removed the Mesmodildo and, the ritual complete, turned, reluctantly, to pass it to a waiting knight. As the wonderful object was handed one to the other to be wrapped in its cloth their teors touched with just the faintest metallic sound of gold on gold; again a symbolic act.The Mesmodildo now sheathed, Jonathan knew Tacey would focus on his own teors. He smiled as her tongue flicked around her mouth. She would be desperate now, desperate for the male milk. He spoke and the chamber was hushed.“Repeat after me,” and he spoke the ancient words translated from the Latin so Tacey would understand and obey.Below him Tacey listened in rapt attention her eyes focused on Jonathan’s gold banded teors just inches from her face. She thought she had rarely seen anything so beautiful or desirable with its smooth plum head, sinuous veins and beautiful gold bands—bands that she could see were intricately engraved with intertwined teors.In a quiet voice, not loud as Jonathan’s had been, but gentle and modest as a woman’s voice should be she repeated:“Man is my master;The Teors is strong;I sink to my knees before the Teors;I shall drink from the Teors:Man is my master”The whole chamber was silent, hushed and now waiting for Jonathan. He applied all his years of training and meditation. He so wanted to do the thing; the act that marked a great knight—the spontaneous third wonder of the teors. All eyes were upon him not least Tacey’s as she gazed at his teors; Jonathan moved it closer almost as if he was going to place it in her mouth and let her suck. But that was not his intention. His concentration was intense; beads of sweat appeared on his brow and from his straining teors came the second wonder, a little bubbling pearl of Teorsic Fluid. The Bacalum saw it and nodded; from the knights came a low hum; Tacey’s eyes grew round as she saw the liquid pearl and she wet her lips. She had not, though, received permission to touch or lick however much her desperate desire was to taste and accept the teors into her mouth. Jonathan stared at Tacey’s moving tongue, practising all the meditative technique he could muster; so not wanting to disappoint his companions and disgrace himself, a full member of the Corona; so conscious of the rising sound of the humming knights. And then it came.Without touching, without his own hand or Tacey’s lips so much as brushing it, the Third Wonder came. With a groan Jonathan’s teors began to spout in full view of the company, spurt after creamy spurt crossing the air to land perfectly in Tacey’s waiting mouth. The low hum of the knights reached a crescendo and ceased.Tacey was clearly in ecstasy. Finally she had been permitted to drink the Teorsic Fluid; an ambrosia; she had never realised could be so…; had never thought… had never dreamt could be so wonderful.It was obvious to the company that Tacey’s orgasm had returned.The knights still wonderfully erect and gold banded began to process in their robes held open to display their manhood. An impressive sight as they circled the great hall. A group of seven knights advanced upon the kneeling Tacey and stood in a semi circle before her, folding their arms across their chests, their teors standing proud. Again Tacey was awed as first one then another teors began to stream semen without any manual or oral intervention. Her mouth sought the delicious fluid, her head turning first one way and then another. Two knights accepted defeat and allowed Tacey the honour of assisting the discharge of the Teorsic Fluid, her lips eagerly seeking, her mouth sucking, her tongue assisting as the hot ambrosia slid down her throat and her clitoris tingled like it had never done before.Group after group of knights advanced upon her as the ritual of the Discharge of the Teorsic Fluid continued. Despite her best efforts much of the delicious fluid had not reached her mouth. It dripped from her hair, her chin, her ears, her breasts and covered her body. Her skin tingled like she had never imagined it could and her orgasm went on and on as her senses were overwhelmed.Through the waves of ecstasy, all Tacey could hear around her was the tinkling sound of tens of gold rings falling and bouncing on the marbled floor as in her mind over and over again she kept repeating:“Man is my master;The Teors is strong;I sink to my knees before the Teors;I shall drink from the Teors:Man is my master”Jonathan stood; still the only naked person present other than Tacey, watching the ritual, marvelling at the power of the Teors so graphically wielded by the knights, delighting in the ejaculations and the sensual image of Tacey writhing on her knees under the onslaught. It was an image he would recall later for meditation. He was impressed by Tacey’s stamina for, despite the sustaining beverage she was consuming, her continuous orgasm would be sapping her strength. Soon he knew she must faint—again a right and proper thing in a female—a swoon.Still just conscious Tacey keeled over to lie in a pool of teorsic fluid, her eyes blinking and mouth moving. Jonathan was appalled. She should have swooned properly and completely. She should have been still and unconscious. He quickly signalled and, lifted by six raphes, she was brought to the Bacalum. He would know what was required.The Bacalum’s wise old face looked at the prostrate but still conscious girl and a frown came over his ancient features and then he nodded at Jonathan:“Do.”Jonathan attended him, gently lifting the hat from the end of the Bacalum’s teors. It was a magnificent specimen. No other Knight approached it in size—though a couple of raphe were almost equally endowed and great things were expected of them by the Corona.Once more Tacey’s thighs were separated and her sex exposed. The Bacalum stood ready and Jonathan took the Bacalum’s teors in his hand, marvelling at its girth, strength and length. He held it ready as the two raphes brought Tacey’s sex closer and closer to the great, now hatless, purple head. Tacey’s eyes widened as she saw what was to happen. Her eyes wide at the sight of the great gold banded teors but there was nothing she could do to prevent her approach. The great purple head touched, squashed a little and then impaled Tacey. It was not an easy task; such was the girth of the great fleshly member. Tacey had never felt so stretched and with it came a crashing final orgasm like a firework display and she passed from consciousness—quite swooned away as she should.Jonathan nodded thoughtfully at Tacey’s unconscious body. Once more the great wisdom of the Bacalum had been revealed.In awe, Jonathan turned his head to the Bacalum and bowed. The Bacalum nodded gravely and stepped backwards releasing his teors from the confines of Tacey’s sex so that it bounced upwards and stood impressively vibrating like a tuning fork. Carefully Jonathan replaced the hat upon its end to conclude the ritual. Probably as a result of Tacey’s slipperiness the hat slid slightly to one side at a rather jaunty angle as if it was pleased with what it had done.The Bacalum gazed down at the unconscious girl, and his gaze seemed to rest particularly on her shaved pubis. Jonathan had thought all was done but he was wrong; quite wrong. With a small smile the Bacalum raised his arms and with it released the pent up strength of his own meditation. From the great gold banded teors a magnificent ejaculation took flight drawing a gasp of wonder from the assembled company. The little jaunty bejewelled hat flew right over Tacey and beyond her head to clatter on the marble floor as the Bacalum’s own Teosic Fluid poured in great, strong, creamy spurts the whole length of her body. It was a sight for the knights to remember and feel humble.The ritual was concluded and it was time for Jonathan to take Tacey from the Phallocrypt and return her to the world above, the restless city, a better, wiser, more respectful person. One who would never again mock the teors, one who would be careful to be modest and quiet in the presence of men and a woman possessing, as women should, a secret lust for the Teosic Fluid.Jonathan always felt a great sense of regret when he left the Great Phallocrypt. It was where he felt greatest contentment—a sense of worth and belonging. He looked at the slowly regaining consciousness of Tacey as he prepared her for the return to the world above and sighed. Despite his pleasure, indeed his joy in the Order he would really love to have a girlfriend, a really nice girl, perhaps someone like Tacey. It was a sadness to him that he had never had a girlfriend, even as a teenager; had never had a loving relationship with a girl. He could not understand why.It was news, unwelcome news, news of the most distressing kind. After decades of silence, it now seemed the ancient opponents of the Order were not disbanded, not consigned to history but were once more on the ascendant; the Yin to the Order’s Yang, the Seth to its Jedi: the most detested Dames of the Drenched Digit.The Bacalum looked slowly up and along the walls of his office, at the many, many paintings of his predecessors; all of them seemed to be silently sharing his thoughts; even Henri de Coq who, it was said, came across with the Conqueror, bore a frown on his cropped Norman head. “It will not do,” said the Bacalum.By Drmaxc for Literotica.

It does not do to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.“Men and their erections,”“Men and their erections,” Tacey laughed shrilly, “if you could harness them you’d solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks…”The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a ‘Teors’ was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock’ as the girl had done, a 'willy’ or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master’s private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit’ of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before.“It will not do, it will not do.” The Baculum’s words of wisdom enervated Jonathan.“I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo.” The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, “It will do.”They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists’ impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. “I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.”“Do.”Walking slowly back down the Corpus Cavernosa, Jonathan mused on the wise words of the Bacalum and upon his mission. Tucked into his robes was the ancient object — it would not do for the knights to see that which he had been entrusted or to know it was amongst them.Shedding his ceremonial robes in the outermost halls, where the putative knights, the Raphes, met and took instruction in their twin, wonderfully spherical, meeting rooms, Jonathan ascended back into a rainy, wet London morning; the ancient object tucked in his duffle bag along with his laptop and sandwiches. He had his job in the world outside the Order which he must attend to from 9am to 5pm but then he would commence his mission.It was one thing to hold the Mesmodildo but another to set up the opportunity to use it. Jonathan neither knew where Tacey lived nor worked. He did not actually know her name. His only knowledge was that she sometimes frequented: rather had at least once frequented, the bar where he had heard her disrespectful statement. He should have found out more about her at the time; he realised that now — it would have been better to have gathered more evidence before reporting to the Bacalum — but he had been so incensed, so overcome that he had rushed ahead without careful reflection and contemplation. He would meditate upon it later that evening.Meditation was important to the Order. Sitting cross-legged on a mat woven with ancient designs, a knight would sit in contemplation of his teors until turgidity ensued, that First Wonder of the teors; his thoughts would roam free as he sought to better understand himself, resolve his problems and focus on the baseness of his desires whilst seeking to raise the Primo Cumum, that first flowing of the teors so aptly described as its Second Wonder; lastly came the conclusion of the ritual, the ultimate goal of the meditation—the full flowing of the teors, the Ejaculum, a sight wonderful to behold—when the teors of its own volition would spew forth its seed. Putative knights worked hard at achieving this, many sitting for hours trying to create in their heads the necessary images; erotic images necessarily to achieve the apparently spontaneous Ejaculum.At first, and Jonathan had to admit he was as one with them, putative knights would use the Manualum or hand to achieve the necessary final stimulation; but he had achieved so much more – the result of hard work and dedication. Often appropriate texts or images were used, spread before the knight or novice to assist in his meditation. The Library of the Order, the Curiosa, contained many volumes and meditational material.Traditionally the knight would bow his head and orally accept the bounty of the Ejaculum. Ancient manuscripts, some written in Latin, some Sanskrit testified to this and the beautiful coloured illustrations showed no less. A variant much favoured in the modern Corona, and therefore too the Corpus Cavernosa, was the Art of Felicitation, requiring extensive practice, much suppleness of the body and, Jonathan admitted, a long teors. He, himself, had only managed the briefest of Teorsic Kiss at the moment of Ejaculum but the Bacalum and a few others of the Corona, knights of great experience, could hold the rounded terminus of their teors orally at the moment of the Third Wonder, an ideal act permitting the recycling of the seed so not one drop was lost to the body.Jonathan was lucky, very lucky. Inevitably he had returned to the very bar of Tacey’s misdeed as the only reference point he had in relation to her; had sat there nursing a beer and wondering if he would have to use the power of the Mesmodildo on the very pretty bar girl who had, he recalled, been there on the previous night. Perhaps she would know about the disrespectful girl; know who she was and where she lived — and her name. The entrance of Tacey saved the need. It was a relief to Jonathan — the pretty bar girl with the large breasts might not have known anything about the disrespectful girl and left him with no obvious lead in his quest; it also saved the seed he might well have lost to her in the course of extracting the information; she was, after all, very pretty and perhaps worthy of the honour.Tacey moved across the room and sat on a bar stool, her long legs crossed one over the other drawing up the material of her trouser leg revealing a particularly fine pair of high heeled shoes—clearly new by the sight of the soles and undoubtedly expensive.Not for the first time Jonathan wondered both at the impudence and the illogicality of women. There sat the girl in a suit of clothes but with trousers not a skirt. Trousers were a male prerogative and unsuited to women; they were for men. A skirt would have shown her new shoes off but instead they were largely hidden by the trousers. What was the sense in buying shoes to be noticed and then wearing trousers? There was no logic. The girl would look better without the trousers. In his mind he imagined the girl naked but for the shoes; it was an appropriate image he would use for meditation later. He looked down at his own sensible, solid black shoes largely hidden by his own trousers — and that was perhaps just as well. He mentally gave himself a note to polish them in the morning—it was a task he tended to overlook though it would not do to keep the dome of his teors unpolished.A further shock came to Jonathan; instead of a white wine spritzer or some expensive but brightly coloured vodka concoction in a pretty bottle, the girl had ordered beer: not just a half but a whole pint. She was drinking beer from a pint glass! Had she no shame?Jonathan got up and walked across to her, “I have something to show you,” he said without introduction and in a deep impressive voice.Tacey looked Jonathan up and down for a moment and then burst into laughter, “Ooh, you little pervert, you!” She seemed to find the whole scene very funny indeed. Jonathan was affronted. What had he said?“Well, what do you want? Who are you?” She said.It was not going well; it should be he who was asking the questions. As the Bacalum had wisely said, “it would not do.” Slowly he drew from his duffle bag an object wrapped in a cloth. “I have this to show you,” Jonathan said mysteriously, drawing the cloth down the object a little way.Tacey had never seen the like. It was a pearl, a great creamy, misty pearl; far, far bigger than any she had seen before; a pearl far bigger than the cultivated pearls of her best necklace; a pearl far bigger than the one Great Aunt Agatha used to wear when she, Tacey, was little and had so fascinated her on visits. Within it, great streamy swirls of creamy clouds seemed to move, captivating her, capturing her eye; she found it difficult to look away from the pearl, to stop watching the moving clouds of cream that appeared to roll around the jewel.Gradually Jonathan drew down the material covering the object and whilst her eyes could not leave the pearl she could see it was mounted on gold, indeed atop a golden acorn… or was it an acorn? As the material rolled back Tacey realised it was not so much an acorn as the bulbous end to a golden penis — a golden erect penis in exquisite detail surmounted by a great pearl; a pearl representing, quite clearly to her eye now, the bubbling up of semen or rather, what did they call it, yes, it was the 'pre-cum.’ She was both shocked and fascinated; her eyes could not draw away and leave the pearl with its swirls of milky cream. Her mind was being taken.Jonathan watched Tacey’s reaction; it was how it should be, no woman could resist the Great Mesmodildo, their pretty eyes were drawn to the pearl like moths to a candle and next would come the longing, a certain dryness of the mouth, an increasing need for something they could not quite place—it was no less than the desire for the milk of a man, a teosic longing in their loins. Jonathan had no need to completely un-sheathe the artefact, to reveal its shining golden glory, merely sliding back the material to expose the bulbous head was sufficientTracey’s tongue moved slowly across her lips; they felt dry.“Shall we sit over there, somewhere more private?” Jonathan sheathed the Mesmodildo. He had taken command of the situation.Tacey took a large swig of beer to ease the sudden dryness in her throat and followed him without question.Once again Jonathan eased back the covering revealing the golden head mounted with its strange pearl. Tacey stared; images of ejaculating penises came flooding into her mind and the thought of taking the head of this gold penis into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue, feeling the sensual smoothness of the pearl—smooth, yes smooth like… like… semen. Her nipples pricked at the material of her bra, they felt as hard as iron or, indeed, the gold of the strange penis before her. Within her panties, the new purple pair her especial friend, Diane, had bought her, she was flowing. Already the material felt soaked as if newly from the wash; it would seep into her trousers—an embarrassing wet stain.“May I, may I please suck it,” she asked in a small, little girl’s voice.Jonathan smiled to himself. It was more like pleading. How easy these women were taken, how powerful the Mesmodildo, how easily their minds were beaten and taken and their lust aroused. In a moment she would be pleading with him to let her suck his teors, desperate to take his seed and feel it slipping down her throat. But now was not the time and not just because they were in a public bar.The bar actually was empty but for the pretty bar girl and the Mesmodildo would handle her easily. Jonathan looked again at her and thought that perhaps another time, if he had not returned the Mesmodildo, he would like to use the artefact upon her and see her kneeling before him.“You may,” he replied and held it for her, still wrapped, with just the very end, the beautifully rounded head showing, and watched as she made the proper rounded shape with her mouth, the Teoric Circle, that women must make, before bowing her head down and absorbing the smooth gold head. He could imagine within her mouth the rapid flicking tongue; all women did this; the tip caressing the smoothness of the pear imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage their desperate thirst.Gently he pulled, extracting the Mesmodildo. He liked the need to pull a little to overcome the natural suction of the girl wishing to retain the object. It was a pleasant resistance.Tacey looked up at him, her eyes wide and doe like, her mouth still in the shape of the Teorsic Circle ready for the Mesmodildo, his own teors or, indeed, any other teors. It was a temptation. So very pleasant to have been able to disrobe, but not there, and place his own teors in this girl’s mouth; feel her tongue seeking the milk, trying to enter the very end of his teors; feeling the Second Wonder rising and watching, as his teors rested on her tongue, the small first clear drop of the Teorsic Fluid seep and run down from the acorn head; the sudden stiffening as the tongue tasted and induced a frenzy of sucking.From the bar the other girl stared. What had that man offered the girl to eat and why did her face now hold the expression of some plastic inflatable sex doll?“Come,” he said — and she almost did — the feeling of arousal was so strong, but he meant for her to follow.It was but a short taxi ride; though Tacey would remember nothing of it nor walking into a small building and down some steps — the stone steps to the Great Phallocrypt, Jonathan leading her by the hand.It might have been thought that no women would have been permitted to enter the ancient halls of the Order. Certainly they could not be of the Order, being mere women and lacking teorsas though it was said in times past there had been exceptions; women who would rather have been men; women with slim boyish hips and small breasts who had worn cunningly made simulated, pseudo-teorsas and had been more than happy to join in the male rituals sometimes made upon and with other members of their sex. This, though, was most certainly not permitted by the current and recent Bacala.It was possible, though, for women to be brought for judgement, correction or punishment: but not for pleasure. It should not be thought the Order was in any way a society for 'randy’ old men to enjoy countless women in a social way, a sort of 'Hellfire Club’ or opportunity for hedonistic orgiastic activity. The Order’s purposes were profound, mysterious and extremely serious. Any sexual gratification was a by-product, almost an accident: though to achieve the First, Second and Third Wonders of the Teors erotic thoughts a plenty were needed and sexual activity was something the knights were required to undertake regularly and in a brotherly fashion. The Wonders of the Teors, after all, had their root in sexual activity.It was appropriate for Jonathan to undress Tacey. It would not do for her to be presented to the Knights in clothes from the city above, least of all in that so wrong trouser suit. She needed to be modestly clad in a simple cream linen shift, a shapeless garment hiding her womanly attributes from the knights. First, though, she needed to be ritually washed; like the undressing it was a task Jonathan would need to undertake and it was a task he did not shirk. There were no female attendants in the Phallocrypt to assist female 'visitors’ and, as Tacey was his charge, Jonathan would need to perform the ceremony. He led her into a side chamber, stone vaulted and with a stone bath sunken into the floor. The water splashed into the bath and Jonathan added scents of sandalwood, carbolic and spice.Firstly Jonathan undressed, glad to be free of his workaday clothes ready to dress in the wonderful robes of the Order; it was better for him to be naked whilst bathing Tacey as it would not do to wet his robes. Tacey stood motionless in her trouser suit, still with the Teorsic Circle fixed to her face but her eyes betrayed intelligence behind her fixed expression. It was right for her to be conscious, she now needed to remember the lessons she would be taught. He knew her eyes would be staring at his teors, she could not help it and it was right for women to focus on the teors, to think about its beauty and power. Generously, as he began to take off Tacey’s jacket he permitted his teors to rise to help give her focus and bring her back from her Mesmodildo induced trance. His penis swayed magnificently and he paused to watch it in one of the many mirrors of the bath house. Inevitably she would compare it to her own biologically comparable but so much inferior organ, the Clitoris. Almost unnoticeable in some women, a mere pimple in others but for some there was an element of size, a proto-teors but, obviously, none could stand comparison with the Teors. The Bacalum was most particular and expected the size of the erect clitoris to be established and recorded. He thought it important. Jonathan was skilled in this and had a Clitometer ready.Jonathan fumbled at Tacey’s bra strap. He always had difficulty with these and then pulled down her panties. Jonathan took a step back and frowned, staring at the naked girl and particularly her pudenda. Her pubic hair had been shaved into a long vertical band rising up with her Cleft of Venus. To Jonathan the upright band had an inappropriate element of the Teors about it, a column of dark curly hair standing vertically up her pubis—did it not represent a Teors—that great column of the male? Why even the top of the column, below her navel seemed rounded. Was this sign of her further disrespect or quite the opposite, a mark of respect? Jonathan did not know. He was torn between seeking out the Bacalum and asking, but thereby displaying ignorance, or leaving be, but that seemed indecisive. Perhaps it would be best for Tacey if he assumed the worse and shaved off the offending symbol leaving her pudenda naked of hair. The Bacalum, he knew, preferred girls like that— innocent and pure was Jonathan’s understanding of his reasons.Leading Tacey by the hand into the water Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Tacey’s skin. It was not an unpleasant task feeling his hands sliding over her smooth young skin, leaving no place uncleansed, but taking especial trouble over the ritualistic four parts of the woman’s body which required greatest care—the nipples, the bottom and the pudenda. A full minute being allotted to each in the proper order. First the left nipple, then the right, followed by the bottom and lastly the pudenda. Jonathan looked into Tacey’s eyes and saw considerable surprise as his right index finger, liberally coated in soap, slipped up her bottom. It was appropriate. A woman should be surprised at the unexpected acts of a man.Finally Jonathan washed Tacey’s hair, lathering it enthusiastically as he stood and she knelt in the bath in the proper position a woman should take when a man is shampooing her hair. Equally properly Jonathan placed his teors between Tacey’s lips, still in the Teorsic Circle, and pushed. A woman should always suck the man’s teors when he is washing her hair. It was clearly shown in the old manuscripts. Tacey reacted rather dopily but instinctively seeking the Teorsic Fluid. It was not, though, appropriate yet.The full minute spent soapily washing, shaving and examining Tracey’s pudenda also ensured, had the Mesmodildo not done its arousing work, the clitoris was fully erect. Drying Tacey with towels he had her lie down and open her legs wide, giving him not only full access but a full view of her sex. He readied his instrument, his Clitometer, adjusting the wheels and shiny metal dividers to measure both circumference and length. The cold metal touched Tacey’s sensitive button and she winced slightly. “Why?” she said in a slightly slurred voice. Her faculties were returning.“Because it is necessary.” He was being kind. It was not necessary to answer a woman’s questions or even to listen to her.The last part of the preparation now needed to be undertaken. Jonathan brought Tacey to a curved marble saddle surmounted by a gorgeous golden teors. Of realistic size; unlike many of the beautiful representations in the halls; not too large because this had to fit all women; and more stylistic in design than many more faithful depictions. It was in an art nouveau style which so fitted the curving nature of the teors and the artist had taken liberty with his depiction of the glans which swept unusually far down the shaft giving a particularly streamlined look. A beautiful object which would give any women great pleasure to mount. Carefully he sat Tacey astride ensuring she lowered herself so the teors pushed up inside her. Instinctively, as before, Tacey began to ride the teors. Jonathan smiled a little in pity. Women had such a need for and such a longing to steal the Teorsic Fluid. They could not help themselves.Jonathan depressed a lever and Tacey betrayed surprise. It was not Teorsic Fluid but a sweet Almond oil that was being injected by the golden teors into her as she rode. A cunning contraption pumped out the oil in carefully regulated spurts mimicking the Third Wonder but in a profusion only the most adept knights were able to achieve—and the truth was that Jonathan was not one of them; much to his chagrin. He was, though, working at raising his TFL, performing the exercises at morning and night. He carefully recorded the outcome in a spreadsheet stored on his laptop and the chart did show a rising trend. (TFL = Teorsic Fluid Level).The purpose of the Almond ejaculation was not the pleasure of the women, or deceiving her she had taken Teorsic Fluid, but to prepare her. In Tacey’s case the Mesmodildo had caused her to literally drip but the liberal amount of Almond oil being pumped into her would ensure ease of teorsic insertion and a most appropriate sheen of oily lubrication running down the inside of her thighs. The Order expected not just the substance but the appearance of things and it was so very important for a woman appearing before the massed knights not only to be massively aroused by the honour shown but to visibly demonstrate it as well.Prepared, Jonathan dressed Tacey in the linen shift and finished his own ritual. Washed, he merely needed to don the badges of his rank and his robes. At the very base of his teorsic shaft, indeed clasping it tightly behind his scrotum, he tied, with leather thongs, a thin leather belt encircling the shaft forcing the scrotum forwards and the testes into greater prominence. It was the first symbol of a member of the Order and many wore it ordinarily under their street clothes.From a small red leather box Jonathon drew out three intricately engraved gold rings, rings prepared by the Order’s goldsmith—a member himself. The first ring for a raphe, the second for a knight and the third ring for a member of the Corona. Jonathan had not possessed the third ring for long, indeed had only recently been erected to the Corona, and was only just getting used to wearing it tightly and impressively below his glans. Lifting his now unerect teors by the prepuce, with an ease gained by long practice Jonathan slipped the first, second and then third ring down the shaft and willed the First Wonder. His teors rose proudly, the flesh expanding into the rings so they were held tightly in their allotted positions as if the shaft was bound in gold. His teors looked magnificent in the mirror; Jonathan admired himself turning to the right and left as if trying on a new suit of clothes; it was big, knurled by veins, beautifully banded in gold and surmounted by the shiny purple head with its eye of mystery. It never ceased to impress him.Only the Bacalum wore the fifth symbol, a gold, bejewelled hat or helmet sitting atop his teors-head.Pulling on his great red robe Jonathan was prepared and led Tacey out into the great hall of the knights, the Corpus Cavernosum. The Knights of the Teorsas were assembled and waiting.The grand phallic ritual is concluded.The shock to Tacey must have been immense, shock and awe at walking into such a beautiful stone vaulted place and seeing the knights and raphes, perhaps a hundred in all, standing in their red robes watching her, their eyes focused just upon her; and, at their centre, the figure of the Bacalum looking so serene and wonderful in his great curving red penile hat. Jonathan could not but sense what she was feeling as he led her down the massed rows of the knights. Certainly her eyes were wide.A low chanting filled the hall as Jonathan led Tacey forward to the centre of the hall. Speaking in a clear voice he outlined to the assembly Tacey’s grave misdemeanour. It was certain, very certain they were not pleased and Jonathan felt for Tacey as she must now realise how great was her error, how unwise and wrong it was to speak lightly of the teors and in a flippant manner. It was possible she thought herself there for punishment but that was not often the way of the Order. Perhaps once upon a time Tacey would have been bound tightly and her bottom roundly punished as the Knights watched; the sight of a helpless, naked, bound girl wriggling under torment greatly assisting their meditation.That was not the modern way. The Bacalum placed great store, not on punishment, but in behavioural correction. He saw the female mind as plastic and easily mouldable. A woman’s mind could change swiftly and, he reasoned, could therefore be changed easily. He believed strongly, much more so than his predecessors, in the use of the Mesmodildo for mind correction. It so eased compliance with change.Tacey had heard the accusation, must understand the gravity of her disrespect. Jonathan knew it was time and was gratified his thoughts were so in tune with the Bacalum for, at that very moment he knew it was time, the Bacalum raised his staff, a rod of iron surmounted by the bulbous end of a teors worked in silver filigree, and pronounced, “Do.”As one the knights, with both hands, pulled apart their robes disclosing to the single woman their rampant male nakedness beneath: it was the ancient and ritualistic Teorsic Flash. The sight of so many erect organs could have but one effect on Tacey, instinctively, as of a folk memory, she made a low curtsy, the obeisance, to the Teors. Awed, she saw each erect organ was bound in one, two or even three gold rings tightly held by the flesh that had expanded into them. They held their robes apart exposing their tumescent maleness to her, just to her; Jonathan could barely credit the honour being done to Tacey; to have revealed to her, to actually see, one hundred teors at a single time; moreover so beautifully bound in gold and framed by the red robes of the Order. It was breathtaking. She was honoured but awed. Never again, he knew, could she be disrespectful of the teors—not after such an experience under the influence of the Mesmodildo.There was a hush, the chanting ceased, and from his robes Jonathan drew out the wonderful golden Mesmodildo. This time, in the great hall of the Knights of the Teors he fully unsheathed it and it shone in the candlelight, its great pearl drawing all eyes to it, perhaps most of all those eyes already weeping the Second Wonder. Jonathan held it aloft and let his robe slip from him. Completely naked, apart from the leather band around his teors, the three gold rings tightly encircling his shaft and the silver ring around the small toe of his left foot (for reasons lost in the mists of time), he advanced upon Tacey. Her eyes widened and her mouth took on the shape of the Teorsic Circle. A proper expression of respect.But it was not between her lips that the Mesmodildo was destined. She had seen and sucked upon the artefact already but now, to complete the ritual, the great pearl must penetrate between her legs and rise up to touch the very entrance to her womb. The Specto, Combibo and Penetralis must be completed.The idea that Jonathan should kneel before Tacey and make the insertion was clearly misconceived. It would not do for a Knight of the Teors to kneel before a woman however important the ritualistic purpose. It was unthinkable. She would have to be raised. Such a lifting would have the benefit of making the act visible to all the knights; and clearly they would all wish to see the Penetralis. It was a problem long ago faced by the Order and brilliantly solved by Meatus XI, Bacalum 1895-1906, by the use of a ladder.In reality the method was somewhat more complicated than a simple ladder; in essence it was a pair of step ladders placed side by side but on castors. The girl, slipping her garment from her shoulders to the floor, ascended the steps, one foot to each set of steps until she reached the summit; when she was there, one foot set on top of each of the set of steps, the pair were moved apart, gradually widening the gap and causing the girl’s legs to open and splay, allowing the Dildick, or dildo wielder, easy access. The system had since been refined. Initially there were unfortunate and undignified situations where the steps kept moving apart due to the free running castors and the girl did 'the splits’ to an excessive degree and fell to the confusion of the knights below. The developed version ran on rails with stops and the splay could be precisely set so the girl was spread according to her height. To steady her and to ensure she did not tumble she was provided, one to each set of steps, a staff to hold onto; the end result rather like a pair of library steps mounted on rails. Properly set the naked girl would appear above the assembled knights spread-eagled with legs well apart and arms akimbo as her hands grasped the finely carved teors at the ends of the two poles.In the Teorsic Trance, Tacey disrobed and ascended the steps; the knights leaning forward out of interest to see her the better; at the top she grasped the two upright teors surmounting the poles and two raphes carefully moved the steps aside opening her legs until fully spread; Jonathan moved forward and looked upwards. Above him, open and vulnerable was Tacey’s sex, visible not only to him but to the other knights as well. There was a pause for meditation and then Jonathon raised the Mesmodildo higher and higher until the great pearl touched Tacey. The effect was electric. As Jonathan continued to push the great gold teors into Tacey, her body shook as if charged with an electric current whilst the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced shook her body. In her befuddled mind, as the waves of pleasure hit her, all she could focus on were the hundred of gold banded teors. Her desire for them was strong.Beneath her Jonathan rotated the Mesmodildo three times, as required by the ritual, and withdrew holding it high for all to see. The chanting returned, filling the hall.Still experiencing orgasmic aftershocks, Tacey’s eyes focused on the Mesmodildo as she descended the steps. Clearly totally captivated by the sight of the golden teors and its pearl, Jonathan could turn Tacey’s head to the left or right simply by moving the object. He lowered it to his own teors and Tacey followed it down to kneel in front of him. Rotating the Mesmodildo from the vertical to the horizontal he slipped the great rounded head with its pearl into Tacey’s mouth. Within her mouth, he knew, would be the rapid flicking tongue, caressing the smoothness of the pearl imagining it a continuous spurt of male milk to assuage a desperate thirst.Jonathan removed the Mesmodildo and, the ritual complete, turned, reluctantly, to pass it to a waiting knight. As the wonderful object was handed one to the other to be wrapped in its cloth their teors touched with just the faintest metallic sound of gold on gold; again a symbolic act.The Mesmodildo now sheathed, Jonathan knew Tacey would focus on his own teors. He smiled as her tongue flicked around her mouth. She would be desperate now, desperate for the male milk. He spoke and the chamber was hushed.“Repeat after me,” and he spoke the ancient words translated from the Latin so Tacey would understand and obey.Below him Tacey listened in rapt attention her eyes focused on Jonathan’s gold banded teors just inches from her face. She thought she had rarely seen anything so beautiful or desirable with its smooth plum head, sinuous veins and beautiful gold bands—bands that she could see were intricately engraved with intertwined teors.In a quiet voice, not loud as Jonathan’s had been, but gentle and modest as a woman’s voice should be she repeated:“Man is my master;The Teors is strong;I sink to my knees before the Teors;I shall drink from the Teors:Man is my master”The whole chamber was silent, hushed and now waiting for Jonathan. He applied all his years of training and meditation. He so wanted to do the thing; the act that marked a great knight—the spontaneous third wonder of the teors. All eyes were upon him not least Tacey’s as she gazed at his teors; Jonathan moved it closer almost as if he was going to place it in her mouth and let her suck. But that was not his intention. His concentration was intense; beads of sweat appeared on his brow and from his straining teors came the second wonder, a little bubbling pearl of Teorsic Fluid. The Bacalum saw it and nodded; from the knights came a low hum; Tacey’s eyes grew round as she saw the liquid pearl and she wet her lips. She had not, though, received permission to touch or lick however much her desperate desire was to taste and accept the teors into her mouth. Jonathan stared at Tacey’s moving tongue, practising all the meditative technique he could muster; so not wanting to disappoint his companions and disgrace himself, a full member of the Corona; so conscious of the rising sound of the humming knights. And then it came.Without touching, without his own hand or Tacey’s lips so much as brushing it, the Third Wonder came. With a groan Jonathan’s teors began to spout in full view of the company, spurt after creamy spurt crossing the air to land perfectly in Tacey’s waiting mouth. The low hum of the knights reached a crescendo and ceased.Tacey was clearly in ecstasy. Finally she had been permitted to drink the Teorsic Fluid; an ambrosia; she had never realised could be so…; had never thought… had never dreamt could be so wonderful.It was obvious to the company that Tacey’s orgasm had returned.The knights still wonderfully erect and gold banded began to process in their robes held open to display their manhood. An impressive sight as they circled the great hall. A group of seven knights advanced upon the kneeling Tacey and stood in a semi circle before her, folding their arms across their chests, their teors standing proud. Again Tacey was awed as first one then another teors began to stream semen without any manual or oral intervention. Her mouth sought the delicious fluid, her head turning first one way and then another. Two knights accepted defeat and allowed Tacey the honour of assisting the discharge of the Teorsic Fluid, her lips eagerly seeking, her mouth sucking, her tongue assisting as the hot ambrosia slid down her throat and her clitoris tingled like it had never done before.Group after group of knights advanced upon her as the ritual of the Discharge of the Teorsic Fluid continued. Despite her best efforts much of the delicious fluid had not reached her mouth. It dripped from her hair, her chin, her ears, her breasts and covered her body. Her skin tingled like she had never imagined it could and her orgasm went on and on as her senses were overwhelmed.Through the waves of ecstasy, all Tacey could hear around her was the tinkling sound of tens of gold rings falling and bouncing on the marbled floor as in her mind over and over again she kept repeating:“Man is my master;The Teors is strong;I sink to my knees before the Teors;I shall drink from the Teors:Man is my master”Jonathan stood; still the only naked person present other than Tacey, watching the ritual, marvelling at the power of the Teors so graphically wielded by the knights, delighting in the ejaculations and the sensual image of Tacey writhing on her knees under the onslaught. It was an image he would recall later for meditation. He was impressed by Tacey’s stamina for, despite the sustaining beverage she was consuming, her continuous orgasm would be sapping her strength. Soon he knew she must faint—again a right and proper thing in a female—a swoon.Still just conscious Tacey keeled over to lie in a pool of teorsic fluid, her eyes blinking and mouth moving. Jonathan was appalled. She should have swooned properly and completely. She should have been still and unconscious. He quickly signalled and, lifted by six raphes, she was brought to the Bacalum. He would know what was required.The Bacalum’s wise old face looked at the prostrate but still conscious girl and a frown came over his ancient features and then he nodded at Jonathan:“Do.”Jonathan attended him, gently lifting the hat from the end of the Bacalum’s teors. It was a magnificent specimen. No other Knight approached it in size—though a couple of raphe were almost equally endowed and great things were expected of them by the Corona.Once more Tacey’s thighs were separated and her sex exposed. The Bacalum stood ready and Jonathan took the Bacalum’s teors in his hand, marvelling at its girth, strength and length. He held it ready as the two raphes brought Tacey’s sex closer and closer to the great, now hatless, purple head. Tacey’s eyes widened as she saw what was to happen. Her eyes wide at the sight of the great gold banded teors but there was nothing she could do to prevent her approach. The great purple head touched, squashed a little and then impaled Tacey. It was not an easy task; such was the girth of the great fleshly member. Tacey had never felt so stretched and with it came a crashing final orgasm like a firework display and she passed from consciousness—quite swooned away as she should.Jonathan nodded thoughtfully at Tacey’s unconscious body. Once more the great wisdom of the Bacalum had been revealed.In awe, Jonathan turned his head to the Bacalum and bowed. The Bacalum nodded gravely and stepped backwards releasing his teors from the confines of Tacey’s sex so that it bounced upwards and stood impressively vibrating like a tuning fork. Carefully Jonathan replaced the hat upon its end to conclude the ritual. Probably as a result of Tacey’s slipperiness the hat slid slightly to one side at a rather jaunty angle as if it was pleased with what it had done.The Bacalum gazed down at the unconscious girl, and his gaze seemed to rest particularly on her shaved pubis. Jonathan had thought all was done but he was wrong; quite wrong. With a small smile the Bacalum raised his arms and with it released the pent up strength of his own meditation. From the great gold banded teors a magnificent ejaculation took flight drawing a gasp of wonder from the assembled company. The little jaunty bejewelled hat flew right over Tacey and beyond her head to clatter on the marble floor as the Bacalum’s own Teosic Fluid poured in great, strong, creamy spurts the whole length of her body. It was a sight for the knights to remember and feel humble.The ritual was concluded and it was time for Jonathan to take Tacey from the Phallocrypt and return her to the world above, the restless city, a better, wiser, more respectful person. One who would never again mock the teors, one who would be careful to be modest and quiet in the presence of men and a woman possessing, as women should, a secret lust for the Teosic Fluid.Jonathan always felt a great sense of regret when he left the Great Phallocrypt. It was where he felt greatest contentment—a sense of worth and belonging. He looked at the slowly regaining consciousness of Tacey as he prepared her for the return to the world above and sighed. Despite his pleasure, indeed his joy in the Order he would really love to have a girlfriend, a really nice girl, perhaps someone like Tacey. It was a sadness to him that he had never had a girlfriend, even as a teenager; had never had a loving relationship with a girl. He could not understand why.It was news, unwelcome news, news of the most distressing kind. After decades of silence, it now seemed the ancient opponents of the Order were not disbanded, not consigned to history but were once more on the ascendant; the Yin to the Order’s Yang, the Seth to its Jedi: the most detested Dames of the Drenched Digit.The Bacalum looked slowly up and along the walls of his office, at the many, many paintings of his predecessors; all of them seemed to be silently sharing his thoughts; even Henri de Coq who, it was said, came across with the Conqueror, bore a frown on his cropped Norman head. “It will not do,” said the Bacalum.By Drmaxc for Literotica.

Matrix? More like Ma tricks and Papa too. Romade Religion, what can you say? Feel controlled? There is a reason for that seizin', listen hear, unherd."Hear" are the links I mentioned: You can find them posted at the following sites: The Piso Project http://pisoproject.wordpress.com The Roman Piso Papers (Scroll down for papers) http://independent.academia.edu/RomanPiso/Papers As I said above, Druidic priests were not A Few Words About The Royal Language (a language within language) http://www.academia.edu/30347785/A_Few_Words_About_The_Royal_Language References: See my paper, 'Napoleon Bonaparte & The Holy Roman Empire' http://www.academia.edu/10994708/Napoleon_Bonaparte_and_The_Holy_Roman_Empire Below are a couple of lists. Understanding The Oligarchy http://www.academia.edu/32492893/Understanding_The_Oligarchy.pdf Understanding The Oligarchy (at Wordpress) http://pisoproject.wordpress.com/understanding-the-oligarchy/ Oligarchy And Ancient Genealogies http://www.academia.edu/28345792/Oligarchy_And_Ancient_Genealogies Napoleon Bonaparte & The Holy Roman Empire http://www.academia.edu/10994708/Napoleon_Bonaparte_and_The_Holy_Roman_Empire The Biblical Dynasty - The Oligarchy Uses Religion Against Us http://www.academia.edu/s/0aa7c0388c/the-biblical-dynasty There was a sect of 'Jews' in the 1st century who were like Secular Humanists. They were fighting for basic human rights and an end to slavery, they were the Pharisees. They were fighting the Romans who were creating Christianity. What Happened At Masada? http://www.academia.edu/33706215/What_Happened_At_Masada_.pdf Seneca, Christianity, And The Caesars http://www.academia.edu/33161068/Seneca_Christianity_And_The_Caesars Christianity Was Exposed By Abelard Reuchlin (AcademiaEdu) http://www.academia.edu/33614693/Christianity_Was_Exposed_By_Abelard_Reuchlin The New Classical Scholarship: The New Forensic Study Of History http://www.academia.edu/31990534/The_NCS_The_New_Forensic_Study_Of_History The True Context Of Ancient History & The Gordian Emperors http://www.academia.edu/s/cc567b0350/the-true-context-of-ancient-history-and-the-gordian-emperors Ancient Alias Names List (2017) http://www.academia.edu/s/a339f0df02/ancient-alias-names-list-2017 Have you wondered about and maybe tried to do research of your own about the Gnostic gospels and other material that did NOT make it into the New Testament canon? Here is my research on it... The Apocryphal New Testament Authorship https://www.academia.edu/s/cbbb322c87/the-apocryphal-new-testament-authorship Was Pliny The Younger, the Roman author and friend of Emperor Trajan, and who was famous for asking Trajan what to do about Christians, also writing as St. Ignatius? Is this more evidence of the Oligarchy (1%) existing even in ancient times? Pliny The Younger As Saint Ignatius http://www.academia.edu/s/99511f2e10/pliny-the-younger-as-saint-ignatiuspdf Some of the easiest evidence regarding the Roman creation of Christianity for those who are just beginning to study the way that we do in the New Classical Scholarship is in examining the works of Pliny The Younger. Emperor Trajan & Pliny The Younger: Mutual Ancestry http://www.academia.edu/s/f6541cd384/emperor-trajan-and-pliny-the-younger-mutual-ancestry Two of my forthcoming papers are very important as evidence of the Roman creation of Christianity. One of these papers is on the subject of the fabrication of Christian persecutions by Roman emperors. This can be shown by giving the descent of all Roman emperors from Antoninus Pius onward, from Arrius Piso (or his immediate family), the main creator of Christianity. And the other paper will show the direct descent of no less than 60 popes from Arrius Calpurnius Piso. At this time, I have already posted the information giving the direct descent of at least 35 popes from Arrius Piso. Scholar Names, Works & Dates: [Authors of Biblical Criticism] Bishop John William Colenso, born Jan. 24, 1814 (1814-1883), 'The Pentateuch Examined'. Sir George Birdwood. Major General Forlong, 'Rivers of Life'. James Ballantyne Hannay, 'Sex Symbolism In Religion'. James Ballantyne Hannay, 'Christianity, the Sources of its Teachings and Symbolism', 1913. James Ballantyne Hannay, 'Bible Folk Lore', a series of six volumes of about 200 pages each. Produced during WWI (1915-1917). James Ballantyne Hannay, 'The Rise, Decline & Fall of the Roman Religion', published postumously, 1925. Sir Richard Burton. Robertson, 'Christianity and Mythology', London, 1900. Matthes. Paulus (1828). Colani (1864). M. Loisy. Bertram, 1922. Van Loon. Laurentius Valla. Sir Harry Johnston. Dr. Cheyne. Lord Kichener. Dr. Barnes (the bishop of Birmingham, Oct. 13th, 1924). Ruskin. Sir Authur Evans. Payne Knight, 'Worship of Priapus'. Naville, 'Discovery of the Book of Law'. German Scholar, Theodor Noldeke (1836-1930). J.C. Oman, 'Cults, Customs and Superstitions of India'. Lecky, 'History of European Morals'. Davidson's Lexicon (issued by Bagster). German Scholar, Christian Gottlieb Wilke (C.G. Wilke), 'Der Urevangelist', 1838. Wilke stated that Mark was the original (earliest) gospel. Bruno Bauer agreed. Allard Pierson (his first published work was about The Sermon On The Mount, and other Synoptic passages, c. 1878). Dirk Loman (c. late 1800s). William Van Manen (c. 1900). Dutch Scholars, Neber and Bolland. Karl Kautsky (1854-1938) 'The Origins of Christianity', 1908. He applied Bruno Bauer's thesis. Dietz, 'Der Ursprung des Christentums', published in Stuttgart, 1908. Some Of The Earliest Scholars Writing About A Roman Creation Of Christian Texts: Hermann Samuel Reimarus (1694-1768). Lessing, an essay published between 1774-1778. Bahrdt (1784-1792). Herder (1797). Dupuis (1743-1809). Volney (1757-1820). == This Title, 'Romans Created Christianity' In Other Languages: [Afrikaans: 'Romeine geskep Christendom'] [Albanian: 'Romakët krijuan krishterimin'] ['خلق الرومان المسيحية' :Arabian[ [Armenian: ' Հռոմեացիները քրիստոնյա են ստեղծել'] [Bosnian: 'Rimljani su stvorili hrišćanstvo'] [Bulgarian: 'Римляните създали християнството'] [Chinese: '羅馬人創造了基督教'] [Croatian: 'Rimljani stvorili kršćanstvo'] [Czech: 'Římané vytvořili křesťanství'] [Danish: 'Romerne skabte kristendommen'] [Dutch: 'Romeinen gemaakt christendom'] [Esperanto: 'Romanoj kreis kristanismon'] [Estonian: 'Roomlased loodud kristlus'] [Filipino: 'Nilikha ng mga Romano ang Kristiyanismo'] [Finnish: 'Roomalaiset luonut kristinuskon'] [French: 'Les Romains ont créé le christianisme'] [Frisian: 'Romeinen skepen it kristendom'] [Galacian: 'Os romanos crearon o cristianismo'] [Georgian: ' '] რომაელები ქრისტიანობას ქმნიდნენ [German: 'Romans schuf Christentum'] [Greek: 'Ρωμαίοι δημιούργησαν τον Χριστιανισμό'] ['הרומאים יצרו הנצרות' :Hebrew[ [Hmong Daw: 'Loos tsim Christianity'] [Hungarian: 'Rómaiak létrehozott kereszténység'] [Indonesian: 'Roma dibuat Kekristenan'] [Irish: 'Chruthaigh Rómhánaigh Críostaíocht'] [Italian: 'Romans ha generato Christianity'] [Japanese: 'ローマ人キリスト教を作成'] [Korean: ' 로마인 들은 기독교 만든'] [Latin: 'Romani creavit Christianitatis'] [Latvian: 'Romieši izveidoja kristietība'] [Lithuanian: 'Romėnai sukūrė krikščionybė'] [Luxembourgish: 'Réimer hunn de Christentum geschaf'] [Macedonian: 'Римјаните го создале христијанството'] [Malay: 'Orang-orang Rom mencipta agama Kristian'] [Maltese: 'Romans maħluqa nisranija'] [Mongolian: 'Ромчууд Христийн шашныг бүтээсэн'] [Norwegian: 'Romerne skapte kristendommen'] [Polish: 'Rzymianie utworzone chrześcijaństwa'] [Portuguese: 'Romanos criaram o cristianismo'] [Romanian: 'Romanii au creat crestinismul'] [Russian: 'Римляне создали христианство'] [Samoan: 'Na foafoaina e Roma Kerisiano'] [Scots-Gaelic: 'Rinn Ròmanaich Crìosdaidheachd'] [Serbian: 'Римљани су креирали хришћанство'] ['روميون مسيحييت پيدا ڪيو' :Sindhi[ [Slovak: 'Rimania vytvorili kresťanstvo'] [Slovenian: 'Rimljani ustvaril krščanstvo'] [Somali: 'Roomaanku wuxuu abuuray Masiixiyadda'] [Spanish: 'Romanos crearon el cristianismo'] [Sundanese: 'Rum dijieun Kristen'] [Swahili: 'Warumi iliunda Ukristo'] [Swedish: 'Romarna skapade kristendomen'] [Turkish: 'Romalılar Hıristiyanlık oluşturdu'] [Ukrainian: 'Римляни створений християнство'] [Uzbek: 'Rimliklarga nasroniylikni yaratdi'] [Vietnamese: 'Người La Mã tạo cơ đốc giáo'] [Welch: 'Rhufeiniaid creu Cristnogaeth'] ['רוימער באשאפן קריסטנטום' :Yiddish[ [Zulu: 'AmaRoma adala ubuKristu'] == Do a search to find out where you can find Reuchlin's work (he authored other titles also). Piso Christ: What Is The Book About? http://pisoproject.wordpress.com/piso-christ-what-is-the-book-about/ Piso Christ: The Roman Piso Family Created Christianity. https://www.amazon.com/Piso-Christ-Book-Classical-Scholarship/dp/142692996X Related Subject Matter: ================= (Key Words & Terms) History, Ancient History, Rome, Ancient Rome, Roman Empire, Roman Emperors, Popes, Papal History, Christianity, History of Christianity, Origin of Christianity, Emperor, Emperors, Roman Catholic History, Holy Roman Empire, Arrius Calpurnius Piso, Roman Piso Family, Ancient Alias Names, Ancient Pen Names, Gordian Emperors, Emperor Antoninus Pius, Arius Antoninus, Marcus Aurelius, Oligarchy, Royal Supremacy, Royal Language, Aliases, Genealogy, Ancient Genealogy, Ancient Genealogies, Historia, Historia Augusta, Flavius Josephus, Pliny The Younger, Suetonius, Tacitus, Plutarch, Hero of Alexandria, Apollonius of Tyana, Philostratus 'The Athenian', Philostratus 'The Younger', Herodian, Emperor Constantine, Vespasian, Titus, Domitian, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Lucius Verus, Commodus, Pertinax, Pescennius Niger, Didius Julianus, Clodius Albinus, Septimius Severus, Severus Alexander, Maximinus, Maximus, Probus, Clodius II, Constantius, Constantius Chlorus, Eusebius, Pope Eusebius, Church Father, Early Christianity, Roman Creation of Christianity, Nero, 666, Julius Calpurnius Piso, Julius Piso I, First 10 Popes, Justin Martyr, St. John 'The Divine', The Revelation, gospels, The Gospel of Thomas, Gnostic, Gnostic Gospels, Apocryphal, texts, holy, sacred, free, info, sample, paper, papers, research, research paper, Heron, Herod, Agrippa, Philo, Logos, Talmud, Pharisee, pharisees, sect, Cornelius, Theodosius I, Arcadius, Honorius, Byzantine, Byzantium, Constantinople, ancient literature, forensic history, censorship, Medieval, medieval censorship, Inquisition, Crusade, crusades, Church, Church History, comparative, religion, religious, organized religion, Abelard Reuchlin, Professor, Bruno Bauer, James Ballantyne Hannay, Marcus, Antonius, Cleopatra, Julius, Caesar, Caesars, Antonius Primus, Cestius Gallus, Nero, Vitellius, Otho, Licinianus, Frugi, Piso, Julius Servianus, Julius Severus, Julius Constantius I, Galba, New, New Testament, Bible, gospels, epistles, Panegyricus, Timothy, Justinian The Jurist, Proculus Calpurnius Piso, Silanus Piso, Herodes Atticus, ben Pantera, Scribes, genealogy, genealogies, royal, royal line, royal blood, historiography, philosophy, history of, historical Jesus, Dark Ages, Secular Humanism, Atheism, Atheist, Atheists, Historical Anthropology, Anthropology, Anthropology of Religion, Imperial, Imperial Rome, Roma, Classics, Classical Antiquity, Religion as psychological warfare, Werner Eck. Anthropology, genealogical charts, genealogy, archaeology, Origins of Christianity, Holy, Holy Roman Empire, Imperial Rome, Roman Empire, popes, emperor, emperors, King James, Bible, biblical, classics, classical history, historic, Pliny The Elder, Seneca, Aria, Arria, Arria The Younger, Arria The Elder, Arius, Arrius, Fadilla, Arria Fadilla, Arria Antonina, Antonius, Marcus Antonius, Antonius Primus, of Alexandria, of Tyana, of Rome, of Athens, Gnostics, gospel, Gospel of, Thomas, Mary, Magdalan, magi, three, three days, three wise men, rooster, hen, cock, crow, crew, Alexander, Sabina, Gaius Calpurnius Piso, Constantine, Julius Constantius, Constantius Chlorus, Emperor, emperors, Flavia, Flavian, Flavians, Titus, Domitian, Vespasian, Nerva, Augustus, Julius Caesar, Caesar, Tiberius, Gneius Calpurnius Piso, Gaius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero, Galba, Otho, Vitellius, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Commodus, Pertinax, Didius Julianus, Clodius Albinus, Septimius Severus, Severus Alexander, Pupienus, Claudius Gothicus, Probus, Gallienus, Tacitus, Florian, Florianus, Balbinus, Postumus, Philip I, Philip II, Pacatian, Jotapian, Aquilia Severa, Annia, Annia Faustina, Julia Soaemias, Julia Maesa, Diadumenian, Elagabalus, Julia Domna, Caracalla, Lucius Verus, Lucilla, Geta, Titiana, Manlia Scantilla, Didia Clara, Pescennius Niger, St. Peter, Saint, Saint Peter, Linus, and Werner Eck. Roman coins, denominations, coinage, province, Augustus, Claudius, Nero, Vitellius, Domitian, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, Septimius Severus, Severus Alexander, Elagabalus, Gordian III, Philip I 'The Arab', Claudius II 'Gothicus', denari, denarii, denarius, coins, coin, ancient coins, numismatic, celator, ancient mints, silver, gold, copper, aureus, drachm, didrachm, tetradrachm, follis, antoninianus, antoninianii, potin, billon, error, restrike, restrikes, silver wash, silvered, limes, AE, AE3, AR, AV, miliarense, siliqua, centenionalis, argenteus, dupondius, quadrans, cistophorus, sestertius, quinarius, as, As, Semis, triens, sextans, unica, quadrigatus, moneyer, victoriatus, solidus, scripulum. 

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The desire to look and feel young goes back a long way, as in all the way to the beginning. Death is our primary fear that drives so much other behavior, we will do anything to stave it off. Socrates, the father of Western philosophy, said, “…what a disgrace it is for a man to grow old without ever seeing the beauty and strength of which his body is capable.” This attitude might have made Socrates a good match for my fictional woman with the cursed bananas, although he was not recorded as being attractive at all. She may have swiped left and passed on him.If you doubt that we are chasing youth, just read or watch advertisements. Yesterday I was on the treadmill, chasing my own fountain of youth, and I could see a TV in the distance. (FYI: I signed up for a second Ironman back in 2019, before I realized that marathons or mileage on a bike would never fill the God-shaped hole in my heart. The race was punted twice during the Covid era, so I'm now swimming, biking, and running again, making me every bit the seeker of the people I'm about the judge (and of course measure for measure will I be judged). But I'll circle back to my own hypocrisy in a minute after I recap the TV sequence that I must regurgitate now.)The TV in the distance had a series of advertisements and infomercials: An infomercial with the late Larry King showed the incredible life-saving benefits of “Prostagenix,” a prostate supplement. Like any good snake-oil, having the letter X in the name goes a long way, as many supplements go this route, especially those marketed to men who are either obsessed with strength or desperately trying to hang on to the glory days of youth. Here's a sampling of ‘X' named companies and products that might give me eternal youth: Nugenix, Bodydynamix, NO XPLODE, Nitraflex, Oxide Booster, Vapor X5, XTEND, Shotgun 5X. All of these ‘X' names sound technical and give me the impression of deep science revelations that could very well conquer death. Cellucor C4 is literally named to sound like an explosive made by a biomedical lab. Then there are things like Total War and Bucked Up, which sound like supplements that the Greek gods Ares and Priapus would take, except the Olympian gods don't need to supplement anything because they are myths that don't age. They are not real. The myths of ancient Greece are not even written like the Gospels where clearly Jesus and the Apostles lived in a specific time and place. The Greek gods were obvious stories meant to match specific phases of life, and seasons of the year, and human experiences. But as men, we would really like to be pinned to certain gods as if it were a permanent buddy-system, so we can stay in our twenties and thirties. The problem is, one day you must switch from taking pre-workout biotech chemistry elixirs to “please just keep me alive” prostate health supplements. Talk about humbling, but it comes for us all sooner or later. The next infomercial was an ad for a battery-powered device that sprays tanning dust onto skin, and apparently this is targeted to women. The “Breeze” device ad showed middle-aged to elderly women being transformed into young flowers of the field by an application of orange dust. The ad itself was so airy and bright that I had thought perhaps this infomercial had been recorded in the same room that F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote about in the The Great Gatsby, when Nick the narrator first goes to East Egg and realizes how the rich, young, beautiful people live:The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea. The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. (from The Great Gatsby - Chapter 1)That was the look and feel of the infomercial setting. However, the spraying of this paint on faces seemed very unnatural amid the hyper-natural, if not heavenly, atmosphere of the white-clad studio. As the women sprayed the dust onto their faces I eventually thought of the phrase, “From dust you came and to dust you shall return,” but I never considered the dust would be orange. Finally, someone turned the TV to ESPN, the channel that dedicates all of it's time to celebrating youth and glory. The first advertisement that I saw was about low testosterone, with two aging legendary sports figures pitching the sale. In their obvious post-retirement leisure time, having achieved much success and notoriety through physical prowess but clearly not enough money to avoid getting lured into endorsements, the athletes casually stroked golf balls down the driving range, looking confident and strong. Their faces were slightly weathered from the march of time and, of course, their gritty play on the baseball and football fields. *wink* One of the greatest baseball sluggers of my lifetime, Frank Thomas, discussed the need for testosterone supplements with Doug Flutie, the plucky underdog quarterback who threw arguably the greatest Hail Mary touchdown pass in history. Their nonchalance and openness about aging signaled that it was no big deal to admit their bodies were changing. Sagging energy and muscles - that was normal! Floundering virility in the bedroom did not get mentioned openly but between the lines the word “flaccid” seemed to hide. The closed-captioning read like a parent talking to an adolescent about puberty. Paraphrasing the message, I read this: “Hey bud, it's ok that you can't hit home runs and drink hard and have sex all day any more. Neither could we. That is, we couldn't until we started taking these pills and powders. You can do it, too, friend, with this product.” In the 1990s, the snake oil and cure-all elixirs were not so dressed up and well-marketed. In fact, I think the 19th century hawkers of cure-alls, like those portrayed in the Little House on the Prairie had a better story for selling than what I recall in the 1990s. The horny goat weed and aphrodisiacs, not to mention “energy boosting” ephedrin, not only sounded like snake-oil but even looked like it. You could buy things at the gas station, either in the bathroom vending machine, or discreetly at the register. There was the courtesy at the checkout line where the cashier would kindly not make eye contact as the customer said, “Just the soda and candy bar,” as he furtively snatched a packet of horny goat weed and added it to the pile. But today, the sale of Dr. Porkenheimer's Boner Juice is wrapped in very attractive marketing, with legendary, fatherly ex-athletes doing the shilling. Going back to that difficult reference to “boiling goats” from an earlier episode - isn't it fascinating that the book of Exodus prohibits Canaanite fertility rituals that also involved goats, which we consider to sound archaic? Yet in our sophisticated, enlightened time, many people still take something called “horny goat weed” to preserve youth and virility, and it can be found in various supplements under more gentle names today. Now we have official pharmaceuticals from major corporations stamping approvals on snake oil to increase virility. Pfizer has replaced the ritual of the boiling of the baby goat with lab work, and again, if Exodus were written today, the warnings about joining the surrounding culture would be different. I think we all owe an apology to used-car salesmen, because everyone knows that the used car salesman is trying to make a dollar and will try to squeeze blood from a turnip, or more appropriately, a contract out of a lemon. But the real snake-oil salesmen today are very polished, very smooth, with terrific stories and targeting and know exactly which insecurities we need to feed. How do they know? Because our private thoughts have been purchased from our phone data. In fact, I think that used car sales is now one of the few honest trades left amid the whitewashed tombs known as corporations, where externally virtue is portrayed through marketing, while the real business operation ruthlessly seeks wealth and consolidation of power. The polish and shine of Google and Amazon advertising is like putting a silk hat on Jabba the Hut. Let's get back on track. What's interesting, once again, is that the Garden of Eden story can be seen in advertising. Did you know - the word “serpent” could alternatively be translated as “the shiny one”? The shiny one is slippery and deceptive. I think this would help people get over the stumbling block of the “talking snake” problem, because when we are talking about something difficult like temptation and sin, we don't necessarily think of a serpent, but everyone knows deceptive, slippery people, and that is what the enemy really is. The snake works great for children and people who have returned to faith, because the understanding of the serpent as a slippery, deceptive being makes sense. But for the fallen away, the idea of a talking animal makes them raise their eyebrows in doubt. Marketing departments knows exactly which wound to poke for each of us, and we all have one or more. We have been carrying along lies our entire lives: that we are unattractive or stupid, or we have fears of powerlessness or shame or rejection. What we want is to feel loved and respected, healthy and safe. Thus, the best way to sell something is to remind us that we are none of those good things, that our wound is still a major problem, and that we could get over that wound if we just bought or ingested a product. This is exactly why you don't get Superbowl ads simply showing Jesus hanging on the Cross for thirty seconds - it's just terrible for sales, even though he is the only thing that actually can heal every single one of those insecurities and wounds.But let's go back to Socrates for a moment, as he is perhaps one of the most admirable people to ever walk the earth. By his own words, he felt that celebrating health and physical accomplishment while pursuing wisdom made for the most worthwhile pursuits. That seems difficult to disagree with for a modern person today. Diet, health, and exercise - these are the obsessions of so many now, along with knowledge. So for a moment, I just want to compare Jesus and Socrates, as both of these men changed the world, but in quite different ways. The fact that Socrates was recorded as being unattractive is interesting. Someone felt the need to write down that he was a “squat, unattractive, barefoot man… with bulging eyes, large lips, and a pot belly.” We never hear anything about Jesus, as to whether he was handsome or what his eyes looked like. Every portrayal of him shows the effects of poverty and fasting, and rather than physical attributes, the one thing we know for sure is that he is universally depicted as having humility. The reason I bring up Socrates here at the end of this series is because there are similar parallels in the lives of him and Jesus, but Socrates saw bodily health and wisdom as the heights of human pursuit, whereas Jesus advocated for humility and prayer, with the body only needing its “daily bread.” Most interesting of course, is that both of these men became martyrs, but Jesus' choice to accept death was very different from Socrates. On the night before he died, Jesus talked about drinking from “the cup” that symbolized his suffering. This is a curious word choice, as 400 years earlier, Socrates chose to die by drinking from a literal cup of tea containing deadly hemlock. Jesus talked about drinking from the cup, but his cup, his trial and death, was far more brutal and awful. Socrates' death came like a deep sleep, while Jesus' execution came in wave after wave of pain and abandonment. At seventy years old, the death of Socrates happened like a sophisticated modern euthanasia, where he was chilling with friends and giving a fine speech. Jesus accepted a much different cup, not with one poison in it, but with every possible poison in it. The cup Jesus consumed contained all the ugliness of human sin. These cups could not be more different, despite both cups leading to the same ending of death by execution. Socrates gives a hopeful speech in the end, with honest words about his uncertainty about an afterlife: “The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways—I to die, and you to live. Which is better God only knows.” Then he drinks the poison tea. He goes into death almost fearlessly, it seems, and those around him are struggling more than Socrates.Jesus on the other hand is abandoned and in a suffocating agony for hours. He doesn't have a speech, but instead has the “last seven words” from the cross, which includes his prayers for his tormentors (“Forgive them, for they know not what they do”) and he gives total certainty about the afterlife to the the good thief next to him. He tells the thief, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” These two endings are only the same in the martyrdom, but not at all in the details or message or expectations. So how did Socrates feel about the self, the body, and growing old? His own words (or the words of his student, Xenophon, who wrote the words) tell us that Socrates may not have fully bought into the “grain of wheat” parable. The Greek was a caretaker of his body, and a lover of exterior beauty. Socrates was a man who spent the day at the gym and arguing about wisdom. Frankly, it sounds like a great life. Lifting, praying, and intellectual pursuits? Sign me up. Years ago, the realization dawned on me that Jesus never attended a gym. There is not one parable about lifting rocks on leg day or running a 10K, and he never advises anyone about a low-carb diet. In fact, he's always talking about carbs, not protein. Bread. In particular, he says he is the “bread of life” when he introduces the institution of the Eucharist. But Socrates is known to have spent much of his time at a gym. I'm just guessing here, but Socrates was likely jacked if he spent all his time at the gym. Perhaps he had sweet traps and triceps, like the people you can observe at every gym in America who carry around gallons of water and grunt while bench pressing six plates. Jesus is often portrayed as a thin, nearly sickly looking man, and the idea of him even entering a gym to exercise is laughable. There is just no way Jesus would be a gym member. So I laughed. And then the sense of humor wore off. I stopped laughing because I realized I'd stumbled across a major problem. I realized that every time I go to the gym, I am not dying to self. No, not at all. At the gym, I am watering and fertilizing my wheat plant, as if I were going to live forever. I'm supposed to be letting the seed die and fall to the ground, but I'm spending lots of time on a dryland version of the Fountain of Youth. Every moment spent at the gym is not living in line with the Gospel. The gym is all about me, and truly most of us attending the gym have vanity and lust scribbled all over their bodies. For goodness sakes, the walls are covered in mirrors! Then I realized: I am just like the woman with the cursed bananas! (Bet you wonder how this all tied together, right? So did I.) I enjoy the gym. I like going to the gym. But as I imagine I'm aiming to live a Christian life, I'm fooling myself. The trick I always forget is that just when I think I've escaped the devil, that is, the “slippery one,” that's when he's probably steering me exactly where he wants me to go. Best to assume that he is somehow tempting me, and pray for God's mercy, and since I always need help, it never hurts to ask for the angels and saints to join me, or to ask for Mary to intercede and crush his nasty head with her heel. The spiritual combat we all have to face has far better moves and more skill than both professional wrestling and Ultimate Fighting Championship combined, so it is wise to call in the whole crew, even if only a false alarm in the end. Perhaps it's only a cat stuck in a tree, but I call the fire department, ambulance, and police. To ask for God's will to be done often requires it, especially when my own will wants attention. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.whydidpetersink.com

WARNING - This is an episode with graphic content...the witches are talking about penis magic so there is discussion of a very sexual nature. Be warned! Nick is covering phallic magics and introduces us to the most hung god, Priapus. Shannon talks about Fenugreek which is both great for Indian food and for prosperity magic. To keep up with the witches, follow them on Instagram @wandsandfrondspod. They're always happy to hear from you (and take topic requests). You can email them at wandsandfrondspod@gmail.com. To support Wands and Fronds, you can join their Patreon! You'll also receive access to bonus episodes, monthly coven meetings, and video recordings. If you'd like to show your support in non-monetary ways, please don't forget to rate and review the podcast on Apple Podcasts/iTunes or leave a rating on Spotify! If you want to buy Shannon's bath teas, you can check out this link.

We start off with the idea of talking about art techniques, tips and tricks we've mastered and could help people with but the cast turned into a discussion about drawing male and female characters- also trans, androgynous, etc. There's an art to representing gender in imagery! It's super important to remember that the way we see gender in art is mainly culture based rather than an innate biological reaction and the perception of gender in art is different according to your cultural background. It's basically a visual language that everyone learns, but as an artist you have to learn to actually “speak” it, and that's not as straight forward as you think. A rough example of of how culture based our perception of gender in imagery is: - In most Western art the “male” is the default. We take for granted that a figure is male in art unless it's augmented in some way, the most basic version is the stick figure. These are men. To make a female stick figure you add long hair, a dress or boobs. Some or all of that, it doesn't matter. And this scales up to other representations. A natural, more realistic depiction of a female person won't always read as a woman in art unless they are “feminised” in some way, i.e. a prominent bust, removing angles and lines and adding soft, rounded features, featured lips, larger eyes, thin waste, wide hips, long legs, large thighs, styled hair, thin neck, large head. And doing any of that to a male figure is a way to “feminise” them or blend their gender. -In comic art from places like Japan and Korea it's the opposite somewhat, especially manga. The female form there is more of the default. Male characters involve a lot more augmentation to create a “masculine” effect, sometimes bordering on caricature, as can happen with female characters in Western art. A generic male manga character would typically read as more “feminine” if dumped straight into a western context. In times past the focus was more on primary (genitals), or secondary (beards, boobs etc), sexual characteristics, i.e the Venus of Willendorf (a very female form) and male figures with disproportionately sized penises. While early Egyptian sculpture is pretty androgynous in his regard, male and female are not well differentiated, the main focus is on the build - eg. men having slightly broader chests. Early Greek sculpture even more so with simple abstract forms representing “humans”. Much later on this changed into a more separated, codified style: men being heavy, muscular, bearded, women being soft and slim, with youth of both sexes being more androgynous. Interestingly genitals were very diminished in this art, penises were small and flaccid, while vaginas were never depicted. Though it was a different story with the art intended for more secular, “common” consumption, which could show pornographic scenes (mainly 2D). Art featuring Satyrs or Priapus massively exaggerated the genitals for deliberate comedic effect. For them focus on genitals didn't indicate masculinity or femininity so much as comedy, stupidity, shame, or porn. Basically gender in art isn't about genitals or genetics, it's all culture based and you need to learn the visual language of your audience to make yourself understood by them, as well as to confuse them or subvert their expectations! What trouble have you had when depicting gender? I always run into issues myself. I make my women too angular and my men are too slim. This week Gunwallace has given us a theme to Gyor - Charged up, magnetically accelerating into clean, sweeping, panoramic electronic tones, momentarily overrun by a furious chaotic electric discharge, only to return to serenity once more. Topics and shownotes Links Featured comic: Gyor - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/news/2022/may/17/featured-comic-gyor/ Featured music: Gyor - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/Gyor/ - by Tuxie, rated E. Special thanks to: Gunwallace - http://www.virtuallycomics.com Tantz Aerine - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/Tantz_Aerine/ Ozoneocean - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/ozoneocean PitFace - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/PIT_FACE/ Kawaiidaigakusei - https://www.theduckwebcomics.com/user/kawaiidaigakusei/ VIDEO exclusive! Become a subscriber on the $5 level and up to see our weekly Patreon video and get our advertising perks! - https://www.patreon.com/DrunkDuck Even at $1 you get your name with a link on the front page and a mention in the weekend newsposts! Join us on Discord - https://discordapp.com/invite/7NpJ8GS

We are not in Salem anymore. For this weeks bonus content LFG on Galaxy Of Film, we are taking it back to Robert Eggers The Witch or vvitch if you're a cinephile.  I am joined today by Jake from Mayhem Pictures as well as Alex from Drink IN The Movies. So, strap in and get ready for another jammed packed episode.  LFG!! Questions, comments, or concerns? Email us at GalaxyOfFilm@gmail.com  You can follow us on Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok @GalaxyOfFilm and subscribe to our YouTube channel, Galaxy Of Film Productions!  Danilo's short film 08.05.18. - https://youtu.be/XL4olt7nX6A The Summoning of Priapus - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RJBLYtNUoE  Our SWCA announcement video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-lzSkZtM3w  Follow our guest stars!  Jake - @Jakey_Lemon on Twitter, @JakeyLemon on Instagram, his YouTube channel is @Mayhem Pictures, and you can find his podcast on the same platforms as Galaxy Of Film @The Mayhem Zone  Alex - @Awreams on both Instagram and Twitter, and on www.DrinkINTheMovies.com  Music made by Dakari Holder.  Graphic design by Mason Conrad. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/galaxyoffilm/support

In this episode, I am talking with Dr. Charles Runels, The creator of the Priapus Shot and the O Shot. The Priapus Shot is a natural treatment using your blood to treat erectile dysfunction. An alternative to pills and surgery. We will discuss: How common is ED How most men don't know they have ED How the P Shot works for ED Why the P Shot is the best treatment for ED Links and Resources MentionedFor all links and resources mentioned on the show, and where to subscribe to the podcast, please visit https://sexualhealthformenpodcast.com/priapus-shot-with-charles-runels (https://sexualhealthformenpodcast.com/priapus-shot-with-charles-runels) Reveal the FREE treatment most men ignore that solves thousands of erectile dysfunction cases every year, plus the 5 biggest mistakes you must avoid if you want to say goodbye to your ED. Uncover it all in my free ebook available to download now. https://ed.truongrehab.com/ebook?utm_source=podcast&utm_campaign=eBook (https://ed.truongrehab.com/ebook?utm_source=podcast&utm_campaign=eBook)

We decide to return to our roots and discuss some STEM content. But first! We talk about some of our inspirations behind Samwise and the story that we want to tell. Dear reader, the name of the greek god that Lucas was looking for is "Priapus". Listen to more on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and more! Listen to Justin's new album here

Welcome back to our dear friend the shitty cleric, Priapus! Hero of Ep. 8, he's off on a love adventure. You've been warned, Dear Listener.....you've been warned.   "My Favorite Cantrip Theme"- Lance Minnis "Bustling Tavern"- Pink Dice Bag Freesound.org "Forest Ambiance"- Emrahhhdd "Bells In a Buddhist Temple"- Fundamental_Harmonics "Market Luang Prabang"- rtb45

There is a natural, safe, non-surgical, no medication treatment for erectile dysfunction. The P Shot uses your blood to restore penis tissues and restores blood flow to treat the root cause of ED. Innovative, new technology with no side effects and can last up to a year. The P Shot can be combined with other treatment modalities such as shock wave therapy, penile pumping, peptides, hormone replacement therapy, healthy lifestyle changes. Links and Resources:For all links and resources mentioned on the show, and where to subscribe to the podcast, please visit https://sexualhealthformenpodcast.com/priapus-shot (https://sexualhealthformenpodcast.com/priapus-shot) And remember to join my men's club at men1.club, a place where I help a community of men regain their sexual confidence. http://men1.club (http://men1.club) #AnneTruong #SexualHealthForMen #TruongRehab

Priapeia är en av historiens minst kända erotiska diktsamlingar som nu för första gången finns översatt till svenska. Ingen vet exakt när – eller av vem – denna bok om den välhängde guden Priapus är skriven, men ett som är säkert är att den skildrar det romerska psyket på ett mer ocensurerat vis än vad vi är vana vid. Ett avsnitt där fallosarna haglar tätt!Stöd oss på Patreon på www.patreon.com/allatiderspodcast.Köp gärna "Priapeia" översatt av Carl Magnus Juliusson och utgiven av Delfyne förlag. Besök också vår hemsida www.delfyne.se, samt följ Delfyne förlag och Alla tiders podcast i sociala medier.Bild: Priapus från Pompeji / Wikimedia CommonsMusik: "Romeo och Julia (Ouverture-Fantasia)" av Peter Tjajkovskij med Skidmore College Orchestra See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

If you ever wondered how gods are made, our guest today will tell you they start out as heroes. They become big enough to thrust out at Brad Pitt and decide the fate of thousands of women and children. Hector must have been like that… a giant like Priapus or Goliath standing in the way of Achilles. Probably a good sized lad. Maybe even 6 foot 4 and full of muscles. Our guest today is very much like this. She is larger than life and it makes sense that she married a Golden God like Derek Ireland and bore him two children. They used to make statues of people like them (think Venus de Milo). These two took a heroes journey that the rest of us just read about or gaze at in museums. Kristina Karitinou sits with us today and talks about her epic life story, including her true romance with Derek Ireland, nursing him through cancer, and her subsequent depression upon his death. The pain of this event along with their two small children, shaped the rest of her journey. Is there one of us in the Ashtanga Yoga culture more wrapped into the fabric of this legendary tapestry? Derek looms larger than life. He who practiced in Mysore, India wearing body, ankle, and wrist weights; he who ran up and down Chamundi Hill every morning like Lester Dent's “Doc Savage: The Man of Bronze!” (Russell's wouldn't have been surprised at all to find Doc Savage practicing Ashtanga Yoga next to Derek and Kristina in a cave on the island of Crete, recovering from some epic adventure). The Ashtanga yoga practice is a method that brings the maximum beauty to both the male and female body. - Kristina Karitinou Kristina is an Ashtanga Yoga teacher and Zen practitioner from Athens, Greece, who's been teaching in the tradition of Sri K. Pattabhi Jois since 1991. She was qualified as an Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga teacher by her late husband Derek Ireland, authorized by Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, and Certified by his son, Manju Pattabhi Jois in 2012. After many years of assisting Derek Ireland around the world, Kristina became one of the first Ashtanga yoga teachers in Europe. FIND OUT MORE ABOUT KRISTINA WEBSITE I INSTAGRAM I FACEBOOK - https://yogapractice.gr/ The Finding Harmony Podcast is hosted, edited and produced by Harmony Slater and co-hosted by Russell Case. Your contributions have allowed us to keep our podcast ad and sponsor free. Creating, editing and producing each episode takes a lot of time. It is a labor of love. And would not be possible without your kind support. If you've enjoyed today's podcast, please consider supporting our future episodes by making a donation. http://www.harmonyslater.com/ Don't forget to subscribe and leave a review! ❤ Give us a 5★ rating! We love to read and respond to your comments - So drop us a note in the comments below and give us a shout out on IG! Opening and closing music by Nick Evans. Listen to entire album on Spotify - Click Here. To purchase your own copy - Click Here.

Welcome back to the land of paranormal romancelandia! Jen and Jackie are diving right on in with a discussion of two paranormal romance books, one an old favorite, and one newer that's...not really a favorite. Have we finally found an original romance read that is still good to read today?! What are the differences between indie published books and traditionally published? And what do you think- will physical books ever be obsolete? Don't forget, you can always emails us at RagingRomantics@gmail.com or find Jackie on TikTok and instagram @Jackie_Recommends ! Thank you to everyone for tuning in. We love you all! Vocab: Indie Publishing - a way of publishing literary works that does not involve going through traditional publishing houses; one of the more popular methods is through Kindle Unlimited More on Indie Publishing Macedon/Macedonia - the empire of historic Macedonia occupies the region of northern Greece and the Balkan peninsula, not Turkey as Jackie mistakenly said in the episode. Read this article on History.com for more information! Deus Ex Machina - an unexpected power or event saving a seemingly hopeless situation, especially as a contrived plot device in a play or novel. Priapus - the Roman god of vegetable gardens and fertility that Jen keeps purposefully mispronouncing Reverse Harem - A trope that consists of one female protagonist and three or more male love interests. Books talked about: A Coven of Her Own by Saskia Walker Fantasy Lover by Sherrilyn Kenyon   Other books/authors we recommend: JR Ward Gena Showalter "Warlord" Ruby Dixon Alexa Riley (not paranormal) Kresley Cole  "A Hunger Like No Other" "Lothario" Christina Dodd Laurel K. Hamilton Anita Blake series Christine Feehan Charlaine Harris Katie Macalister "Blow Me Down" Kristin Ashley Christine Warren The Others series Eliza Rain Alessa Thorne The Court of the Underworld series GA Aiken Molly Harper "How to Train Your Dragon" Penelope Bloom "Kiss Kiss Fang Fang" Tessa Bailey Phenomenal Fate series   Ruby Dixon article from CNN Priapus' mythology

Innan den viktorianska erans intågande i Storbritannien var det vanligt med privata museer, många i nyklassicismen anda. Gabriella Håkansson har tittat närmare på en av de mer spektakulära samlingarna från den tiden. ESSÄ: Detta är en text där skribenten reflekterar över ett ämne eller ett verk. Åsikter som uttrycks är skribentens egna. Denna essä sändes första gången i juni 2019. År 1780 kunde man i engelska guideböcker läsa att världens största samling av antika föremål, utanför Rom, fanns i London. Samlingen var inrättad i ett hus på nummer 7 Park Street, och turisterna vallfärdade för att besöka det spektakulära privatmuseet som, skapats av en mr Charles Townley och som somliga menade övertrumfade självaste British Museum. Vad museigästerna inte kände till, varken under eller efter besöket, var att de deltog i en hemlig initiationsrit. Jag återkommer till det. Museets storhetstid varade i knappt tjugofem år. Efter Townleys död skingrades objekten, husets såldes och den berömde samlaren raderades ur historieböckerna. Det skulle dröja tvåhundra år innan man återupptäckte honom vad var det egentligen som hände? Charles Townley var kolgruvebaronen som hade vuxit upp i ett katolskt hem i norra England, och blivit mångmiljonär genom arv. Förmögenheten lades på att supa, spela kort och gå på bordell. På Londons klubbscen var han känd som den störste hedonisten och något äktenskap var det inte tal om. Townley fortsatte klubba ända fram till trettio, då han sent omsider begav sig ut på sin Grand Tour. Och i ett slag förändrades allt. Bildningsresan följde den sedvanliga rutten genom Europa ner till Rom och Neapel, där Townley hamnade i kretsen av intellektuella kring den bourbonske prins Felipe på Palazzo Portici. Här fanns bland andra sir William Hamilton, Johann Winckelmann, Joseph Nollekens, baron d´Hancarville och en rad andra intellektuella som gärna kombinerade frihetlig upplysning med hårt festande, och ett brinnande intresse för Felipes utgrävningar av Pompeiji och Herculaneum. Den bourbonske prinsen hade strukits från tronföljden på grund av en sexuell mani, och i källaren på sitt museumspalats hade han ett hemligt rum, Gabinetto Segreto, där han förvarade alla föremål av erotisk karaktär som hade grävts upp, och som inte var lämpliga att visa för allmänheten. Hit fick bara vissa utvalda tillträde, här försökte man försöka förstå antikens mörkare sidor genom de märkliga erotiska fynden. En av de utvalda var Charles Townley. Den knappt trettioårige Charles hade aldrig intresserat sig för Rom, Grekland eller Egypten tidigare nu började han samla frenetiskt. Statyer, vaser, mynt han rensade marknaden på fynd. Den första Neapelresa resulterade i trettio lårar med historiska objekt som skeppades hem till London och med dem följde också hans nya vän, författaren och pornografen, baron d´Hancarville. Townley hade ett tydligt samlarfokus, alla föremål han köpte anknöt till den romerske guden Bacchus. Allt som var esoteriskt och rörde fruktbarhetsriter, falloskult, mysteriespel och backanaler, var av intresse. Det verkar som att d´Hancarville hade övertygat honom om att de grekiska mysteriekulterna hade bevarat spår av mänsklighetens allra tidigaste religiösa ritualer. Och att spåra, tolka och återskapa dessa hedniska riter, verkar också ha varit det hemliga band som knöt männen runt Gabinetto Segreto samman. Ursprungskulten det rörde sig om var dyrkan av en tidig fallosgud, som man menade var alla religioners ursprung även kristendomens. Hemma i London satte Townley igång att bygga ett museum för sina obskyra artefakter. Tillsammans med d´Hancarville åkte han runt och studerade alla engelska antiksamlingar i jakt på esoterisk kunskap om ursprungskulten. Det var ett mångårigt arbete som i baronens fall resulterade i ett trebandsverk om utvecklingen av grekisk konst, och i Townleys fall, i en helt unik idé om hur privatmuseet skulle konstrueras. Den berömde arkitekten James Wyatt anlitades och 1780 stod huset klart och dörrarna kunde slås upp för allmänheten. Med all inredning, färgsättning och dekor kopierad från Pompeiji blev det ett nyklassicistisk landmärke. Rumlaren Charles Townley hade blivit en erkänd konnässör. Men museet bar på en stor hemlighet. För vad besökarna inte visste var att dess inre var konstruerat som en hemlig kod, och att byggnaden i själva verket var ett tempel helgat åt Bacchus. Utställningen var arrangerad så att gästens rundtur efterhärmade initiationsriten till backanalen, där novisen gick från död till uppståndelse i en ockult ceremoni som ledde från underjordens mörker till sanningens ljus. Målet var att påverka gästernas sinne i smyg. I entrén möttes de av sarkofager och andra föremål förknippade med död, begravning och ceremoniell tvagning. I nästa rum kunde man beskåda fruktbarhetsgudar som Faunus och Priapus, därefter anträdde man husets mittpunkt, biblioteket, där Townleys stora samling av böcker om religion och hedniska praktiker fanns. I takets i alla rum slingrade sig en girlang av murgröna, Bacchus symbolväxt, varvad av de instrument som spelades under Bacchus-orgierna för att åskådarna inte skulle höra skriken från de som initierades. Inget av detta förstod de intet ont anandes besökarna, som i dagböcker och brev beskrev museet i förtjusta ordalag. Men succén blev inte långvarig. Efter sekelskiftet 1800 skedde ett drastiskt filosofiskt och klassmässigt paradigmskifte i England, där allt som kunde knytas till den franska revolutionen sågs med ogillande, där ibland nyklassicismen. Stilen hade varit en symbol för upplysningens hedonistiska, frihetliga ideal, och ersattes nu snabbt av den nationella nygotiken samtidigt som grekofilernas sexfixering hånades offentligt. I den växande, urbana medelklassen var det kristen moral, och inte hedendom, som stod på agendan. Man engagerade sig i djurrätt, antislaveri och regleringar av dryckenskap och barnarbete bland annat i Townleys kolgruvor och tog avstånd ifrån privatsamlande, och den ansvarslösa skörlevnad, som man menade att 1700-talets upplysningsmän hade ägnat sig åt. Det nya samhället skulle formas av och för fria människor, i transparenta rum inte i slutna ordenskammare. Klenoderna i Townleys samling hade sålts dyrt till British Museum på 80- och 90-talen, men vid hans död 1805 fanns inte längre något intresse. Flera av hans berömda statyer var, som det hette på 1700-talet, renoverade antikvitetshandlarna hade satt på nya armar och ben på gamla statyfragment så att de blev hela, och sen blekt och slipat dem innan de visades för säljarna. Nya krav på vetenskaplighet gjorde att dessa statyer nu tappade värde. Konnässörerna betraktades som oseriösa förfalskare, och deras privatmuseer revs ett efter ett. När drottning Victoria 1838 besteg tronen var alla jämnade med marken. sir John Soanes hus på Lincolns Inn Fields är idag det enda vittnesmålet som finns kvar av Townleys epok, och de upplysta män som byggde sina drömmar på antika ideal. Men kanske är historiens gränser inte så skarpa ändå. På sätt och vis kan hela den viktorianska perioden liknas vid den excentriske engelsmannens Bacchusbygge. Den djuriska driften var väl dold, men ändå allestädes närvarande, bubblande under  de sociala ceremoniernas blanka yta. Den som med full kraft skulle riva fasaden var ingen engelsman, utan en Wienbo vid namn Sigmund Freud. Han kartlade hur bråddjupet inom oss trädde fram i drömmar, konst och vardagliga felsägningar. Och hans stora intresse, vid sidan av psykets och sexualitetens vindlingar, ja, det var att samla på antika statyetter. Gabriella Håkansson, författare

RAINBOW COUNTRY A 2 HOUR Syndicated Gay radio show & #1 LGBT Podcast working to give voice to the LGBT Community & BEYOND! ON EPISODE 245: Priapus / #BBcan9 / Legacy / Music HR 1 The Temple Of Priapus HIGH PRIEST David Francis Cassidy joins me to talk About the Montreal chapter he started in 1979 & SO MUCH MORE! & Big Brother Canada Coverage Continues with this week's EXIT Interviews f/ Victoria Woghiren & Rohan Kapoor #DoubleEviction #BBcan9 + RAINBOW COUNTRY CONTRIBUTOR Musician & Activist Anna Gutmanis Talks about the legacy of Queer Black Women Musicians & HR 2 3 SONG MUSIC SETS f/ 80s - Prince New Wave - Blue Peter Indie - Danielle Grubb Electronic - Corey TuT

-Aphrodite-She was worshipped as the goddess of beauty, love, pleasure, passion, procreation, prostitutes, the sea, and as a warrior goddess throughout Greece, Italy and Egypt. Her name is Greek for “shining sea foam,” but she had a lot of nicknames. ranging from Potnia (mistress) to Melanis/Skotia (the dark one) to Philommeides (smile loving).-Legend-Aphrodite is the daughter of Zeus and Dione, or emerged fully grown from the sea. She landed at Paphos, but may have originally been a Phoenician goddess whose worship dates back to the early 3rd millennium BC. Depending on the story, Aphrodite was a goddess who helped connect people who were in love or a vengeful goddess not to be messed with. Most of the stories are about her being vengeful are usually because the pride of a another offended her. One of the most famous stories is the Judgment of Paris, which leads to the Trojan War.She was married to Hephaestus, but was also romantically entangled with Ares, Anchises, Adonis, and others. Aphrodite also had many attendants: The Erotes (including Eros/Cupid), The Charities, The Horae, Peitho, Hermaphroditos, and Priapus to name a few.-Worship-Her main festival was Aphrodisia, which was celebrated for 3 days in late July/early August. During the festival, no bloody sacrifices were allowed, except for sacred doves. Worshippers brought offerings and would cleanse images of Aphrodite. In more modern times, she ispopular in Wicca, where she is invoked for love, creativity, and, sexuality. Aphrodite is also a critical goddess within the Hellenistic tradition for obvious reasons.Julie works with her in many ways, and shares two spells that she uses to connect with Aphrodite, along with a list of correspondences,

Zapraszamy na Podcast Michała!10. Odcinek!Dziś naszym tematem jest historia zabawek erotycznych.Zabawki erotyczne - historiaOd tysięcy lat przedmioty metaliczne są wykorzystywane symbolicznie jako środek zwiększający płodność i odstraszający złe duchy - ale ich użycie jako erotycznych gadżetów ma również długą historię.Na przykład 28-tysiącletni fallus znaleziony niedawno w Niemczech jest wymieniany jako najstarsza znana "zabawka seksualna", jaką kiedykolwiek znaleziono. Podczas gdy fallusy wykonane z kamienia, drewna, skóry, a nawet wielbłądziego łajna można znaleźć podczas wykopalisk, lub odnieść się do nich w historycznych tekstach i obrazach.DilettoTermin dildo powstał około 1400 r. n.e. i wywodzi się z łaciny "dilatare", co oznacza "otwarty szeroki", a z języka włoskiego "rozkoszny", co tłumaczy się jako "diletto".Na Bliskim Wschodzie w doniesieniach historycznych wspomina się o Egipcjanach i Grekach używających niedojrzałych bananów lub wielbłądziego łajna pokrytego żywicą jako zabawek seksualnych.Ale te gadżety były używane o wiele wcześniej, już w roku 500 p.n.e., kiedy to fallusy były rzeźbione z kamienia, skóry lub drewna. Niektóre z nich były nawet wykonane ze smoły. Dziś już wiemy, że najlepsze masturbatory zawdzieczają swoją obecną formę tysiącom lat eksperymentów.Dildo a religiaRzeźby falliczne nie były używane tylko dla przyjemności seksualnej.W niektórych kulturach pogańskich kobiecy orgazm był postrzegany jako ofiara dla bogów płodności, podczas gdy symbol falliczny był popularny w czasach starożytnego Rzymu.W szczególności posągi boga płodności Priapusa z dużym fallusem były używane do ochrony ogrodów i wspomagania wzrostu upraw.W mitologii greckiej Priapus był przedstawiany z nadwymiarową, trwałą erekcją, stąd też wzięła się nazwa medycznego terminu priapizm.Priapizm to uporczywy i często bolesny wzwód, który trwa kilka godzin - w rzadkich przypadkach kilka tygodni. Przypadłość, o której po cichu fantazjują wszyscy zwolennicy pierścieni erekcyjnych i pompek do penisa.Archaiczne wizerunki penisów znajdowały się nawet w ruinach Pompei, gdzie wierzono, że symbole te mogą odstraszać złe duchy.Tymczasem falliczne bóstwo Mutunus Tutunus było symbolem seksu małżeńskiego.W Turcji, w VI wieku p.n.e., starożytni Anatolijczycy używali rzeźb organów płciowych do odpędzania zła i pecha, ponieważ wierzyli, że takie figurki mają specjalną moc. W dzisiejszym odcinku:Odcinek 10Poprzednie odcinki:Odcinek 9Odcinek 8Odcinek 7Zostaw nieco informacji zwrotnych:O czym chciałbyś usłyszeć? Jakie tematy powinienem poruszyć w kolejnym odcinku? Daj znać w komentarzach poniżej.Skontaktuj się z Michałem:Twitter MichałaRedditYoutubeMichał na LinktreePatreonSupport the show

Rendering Unconscious welcomes Bhante Sanathavihari Bhikkhu, a Theravada Buddhist Monk from Los Angeles California. Currently enrolled in a Master's of Counseling Psychology Marriage Family Therapist program. He also has a BA in Religion and was previously in the United States Air Force Reserve. He is currently working on continuing his teacher's work on Buddhism as psychotherapy and conducting meditation retreats in Mexico and Spain. The book "Buddha: the Radical Shrink" by Venerable Dr. Madawela Punnaji Maha Thera was referenced often in this episode. Link to a free PDF: http://buddhaoriginalteachings.blogspot.com/p/buddha-radical-shrink.html "Zen Buddhism and Psychoanalysis" by Eric Fromm and D.T. Suzuki is referenced in this episode. Article on Bhante Sanathavihari Bhikkhu: https://religionnews.com/2019/01/07/buddhist-monk-finds-a-digital-road-to-the-latino-world/ You can support the podcast at our Patreon: www.patreon.com/vanessa23carl Rendering Unconscious Podcast is hosted by psychoanalyst Dr. Vanessa Sinclair, who interviews psychoanalysts, psychologists, scholars, creative arts therapists, writers, poets, philosophers, artists and other creatives & intellectuals about their process, world events, the current state of mental health care, politics, culture, the arts & more. www.renderingunconscious.org Rendering Unconscious is also a book! Rendering Unconscious: Psychoanalytic Perspectives, Politics & Poetry (2019) is available from Trapart Books: store.trapart.net/details/00000 Vanessa Sinclair, Psy.D. is a psychoanalyst based Stockholm, who sees clients internationally, specializing in offering quality psychoanalytic treatment remotely and online. This may be of interest for freelancers, students, people of varying abilities and those who live rurally and may not otherwise have access to psychoanalytic treatment, those who work from home, have small children, or may be homebound. This is also a useful framework for people with active lifestyles – entrepreneurs, creatives, business people, actors, ex-pats - offering continuity of care for people on the go. www.drvanessasinclair.net The track at the end of the episode is "Move On 23" by Vanessa Sinclair and Carl Abrahamsson from the compilation album "Transcend, Transmute, Kreate" curated by Priapus 23 for Sombre Soniks: https://sombresoniks.bandcamp.com/album/transcend-transmute-kreate Portrait of Bhante Sanathavihari Bhikkhu

Happy Thanksgiving, American HBs! We're so thankful to and for you, listener, no matter where you're from. What better way to show that than with a themed episode?! We bring you THANKSGIVING by Janet Evanovich! It's a book we expected to love because we love Stephanie Plum so much, but were mostly confused, amused, and amazed by. Join us on this journey where two eccentric narcissists non sequitur each other into love. Maybe? We think? Thanksgiving is involved!  *if you'd like to advertise on Heaving Bosoms email heavingbosomspodcast@gmail.com it's a pretty cheap!* Bonus Content:  Hansel and Gretel jokes, Erin's drunken excursions into Colonial Williamsburg, old-timey dick joke hilarity, *Bing Boong Bong* Mandatory Reporters with Erin, nose obsessions, INSANE reading by Melody, and so much more!  Lady Loves:  Melody: Listen to Wicked Wallflowers Club's episode with Angelina M. Lopez HERE! It's so empowering regarding how podcasting is one more way to celebrate romance and connect with other romance lovers. Angelina also opens up about her 20 year journey to becoming a romance author and it's an inspiring take on setting boundaries, embracing your limits, flexing your writing muscles in other, small ways, and then really committing when the time and idea are right. And I'm so thankful for our sister podcasts WWC, Fated Mates, and Black Chick Lit. We have been embraced by some truly brilliant and wonderful women and you should listen to them all!   Erin: ...have you heard of snack olives? They make these little packages of olives that are a tiny tasty treat.  PATREON SHOUT OUT: Kimberly L, you are descended from Priapus, a rustic god of abundance, guardian domesticated animals, a protector bees and gardens, and a fixture in humorous tales. You are a wonderfully sweet soul who connects easily with animals and you serve as a refuge to many, animal and human alike. You project a safe, protective vibe without trying, and yet, you manage to also be boisterous and fuckin' hilarious. Finally, and I’m not sure if anyone has told you this before, but you give off some serious BDE. That’s Big Dick Energy for the uninitiated. You can than Priapus for that, too, because he had a famously large penis. So. Get on with your bad self, Kimberly. And never change.  Make sure to check out our Patreon bonus content! Subscribe! Rate! Review!  Merch: Redbubble And follow our socials:  Instagram: @heavingbosoms Twitter: @heaving_bosoms Facebook: facebook.com/heavingbosomspodcast

It's vegetables week! No, we're not sure why either.  Tom kicks us off by looking at Priapus (and his collection of poems The Priapeia), Rome's bad-tempered and EXTREMELY well endowed garden-protecting gnome-God. His poetry is really quite something, and leaves very little to the imagination. Meanwhile Sam's been learning about the vegetable lamb of Tartary, a stupid medieval monster that's about as threatening as it sounds, and which people believed in for far, FAR too long. Mentions in this episode... We talk briefly about the film pumping iron, and Arnold Schwarzenegger's bizarre rant about coming. Aaand here's a Google image search of Alan Titchmarsh. You're welcome?! Subscribe and listen to us! Apple Music // Podbean // Overcast // Stitcher // TuneIn // Spotify Welcome to That Was Genius: Two blokes. A 12-hour time difference. An immature sense of humour. And 10,000 years of human civilisation. A weekly podcast looking at the weirder side of history. Join Sam Datta-Paulin (he likes history and lives in Britain) and Tom Berry (he also likes history but lives in New Zealand), for a weekly reflection on the bold, the brilliant... And the downright strange. From bizarre events and stories to equally odd inventions, barely a day goes by without something incredible (or incredibly stupid) happening around the world. We upload new episodes every Wednesday night/Thursday morning (UK time). Check us out on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and via our website, and please do subscribe to us and leave us a review if you like what you hear! That Was Genius is produced by Glorious Republic Broadcasting.

Can Dr. Emily give you a few tips on how to have a more enjoyable and fulfilling relationship? Tune in to discover the secrets to better communication, confidence and intimacy with your partner.

Dr Sherif Wakil gets deep, down and diagnostic with the state of women’s sexual health and happiness. Interviewed by Stephanie Webster Urban Health Method. Dr. Wakil runs the finest Aesthetic Clinics UK in Harley Street and has performed more than 19,000 procedures to date and has introduced a number of new treatments to the UK, including the P-Shot and the O-Shot, Vampire Breast Lift, Vampire facelift, as well as being a pioneer of the soft surgery approach. He is a master trainer for this concept and was the first practitioner in the UK to introduce soft surgery treatments, such as the Non-surgical Blepharoplasty and Needle Shaping, He is also known for his signature treatments, which include the Dr. SW Face-Lift and the Organic Face-Lift. He believes in only offering treatments, which are safe, effective and minimally invasive and achieve natural-looking results. He understands that each patient and each face is individual and carefully tailors his treatments accordingly. He says, “I believe in enhancing my patients’ natural beauty so that they look like themselves at their very best. Not different” The O shot for women is a pioneering technique involving a PRP (Platelet Rich Plasma) injection into the vagina to rejuvenate it and enhance a woman’s sexual pleasure. Named after Greek fertility god Priapus, the P shot injection is a pioneering technique involving injection of PRP (Platelet Rich Plasma) into the penis to rejuvenate it and improve both its function and sensation. https://www.drswclinics.com/ https://www.instagram.com/drswclinics/ If you want to Get in Shape, Get Healthy and Get Happy, call us for a confidential consultation - Stephanie Webster Urban Health Method. 07500 356356 (WhatsApp) hello@urbanhealthmethod.com urbanhealthmethod.com CLICK HERE TO DONATE TO IMPROVE THE QUALITY OF OUR PODCAST:https://www.patreon.com/urbanhealth

Dr. Clark Brittain shares the advice you need about PRP (platelet rich plasma) and the Priapus Shot, which improves sexual wellness in men.

Rarely talked about, but oh so important to the Romans, Hestia/Vesta is being discussed. But she's not alone; the god of Male Genitalia, Priapus is also on the docket. How do these two very different gods interact? Listen and find out! Support the show by leaving a Rating & Review and be sure to visit www.dragonwagonshop.com for awesome Mythunderstood shirts and mugs! Mythunderstood is a part of the Dragon Wagon Radio independent podcast network. Learn more at www.dragonwagonradio.com

Dr. Porter of WrinkleFree MD Med Spa is a board-certified emergency physician with 10 years of experience in emergency rooms prior to her career in aesthetics. Dr. Porter re-trained in aesthetic medicine to help create a better life balance and to foster stronger doctor-patient relationships than those the emergency room allowed. WrinkleFree MD Med Spa combines the reassurance of medical expertise with a natural compassion to help clients feel more confident both on the inside and the outside.

No mês da campanha #oPodcastÉdelas2019, no sétimo episódio da segunda temporada do Historicidade, o programa de entrevista do Fronteiras no Tempo: um podcast de história, recebemos a historiadora Semíramis Corsi Silva (UFSM) para bater um papo sobre o governo do imperador romano de origem síria Helogábalo (218 a 222 EC), e como as questões de gênero foram um foi principais fatores políticos de seu reinado. Neste papo refletimos sobre como nós historiadores buscamos responder questões que nos inquietam atualmente. Somos uma sociedade que está em busca constante de prazeres (em sentido amplo) e, mais do que isso, buscamos compreender as construções dos papéis de gênero ao longo do tempo como a ideia do feminino e do masculino romanos.  Descubra conosco quem foi esse imperador pouco conhecido e o que era ser um outro fora dos padrões na Antiguidade Clássica e como a política, os usos dos prazeres e o gênero se articulavam. Siga a campnha no TWITTER para saber quem participa da campanha 2019 Arte da Capa Publicidade Ajude nosso projeto crescer cada vez mais. Seja nossa Madrinha ou Padrinho. www.padrim.com.br/fronteirasnotempo  Saiba mais da nossa convidada Semíramis Corsi Silva Currículo Lattes Site GEMAM/UFSM Perfil no Academia.edu Produção SILVA, S. C. IDENTIDADE CULTURAL E GÊNERO NO PRINCIPADO ROMANO: UMA PROPOSTA DE ANÁLISE INTERSECCIONAL DAS REPRESENTAÇÕES DO IMPERADOR HELIOGÁBALO (SÉCULO III E.C.). Phoînix, v. 24, p. 142-166, 2018. SILVA, S. C.. Barbaridade versus Humanitas no Principado Romano: a política e a construção da imagem do imperador Heliogábalo (século III EC). ALETHÉIA (GOIÂNIA), v. 2, p. 114-136, 2017. SILVA, S. C.. A corrupção e os crimes de Heliogábalo: aspectos da governabilidade imperial romana e as práticas políticas do princeps sírio vistas por seus detratores (século III EC). In: Semíramis Corsi Silva; Carlos Eduardo da Costa Campos. (Org.). Corrupção, crimes e crises na Antiguidade. 1ed.Rio de Janeiro: Desalinho/CNPq, 2018, v. 1, p. 193-216. Livros (principal): Magia e Poder no Império Romano. A Apologia de Apuleio. 1. ed. São Paulo: Annablume/FAPESP, 2012 Organizações de livros (principais): SILVA, S. C.; CAMPOS, C. E. C. (Org.) . Corrupção, crimes e crises na Antiguidade. 1. ed. Rio de Janeiro: Desalinho/CNPq, 2018. v. 1. 356p . SILVA, S. C.; ESTEVES, A. A. M. (Org.) . Fronteiras culturais no Mundo Antigo: Ensaios sobre Identidades, Gênero e Religiosidades. 1. ed. Rio de Janeiro: Letras/UFRJ, 2018. 248p . DIAS, C. K. B. (Org.) ; SILVA, S. C. (Org.) ; CAMPOS, C. E. C. (Org.) . Experiências religiosas no mundo antigo. 1. ed. Curitiba: Prismas, 2017. v. 1. DIAS, C. K. B. (Org.) ; SILVA, S. C. (Org.) ; CAMPOS, C. E. C. (Org.) . Experiências religiosas no mundo antigo. 1. ed. Curitiba: Prismas, 2017. v. 2. Indicações Bibliográficas sobre o tema abordado FOUCAULT, M. História da Sexualidade vol. II. O uso dos prazeres. Rio de Janeiro: Graal, 1984. RICHLIN, A. The Garden of Priapus. Sexuality and aggression in Roman Humor. New York: Oxford University Press, 1992. WILLIAMS, C. A. Roman Homosexuality. 2. Ed. New York: OUP, 2010. Expediente  Arte da vitrine: Augusto Carvalho; Edição:  Talk'nCast; Roteiro e apresentação: C. A. Redes Sociais Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, Google+ SPOTIFY Contato WhatsApp: 13 99204-0533 E-mail: fronteirasnotempo@gmail.com Madrinhas e Padrinhos Alexandre Strapação Guedes Vianna, Alexsandro de Souza Junior, Anderson O Garcia, Andréa Silva, Andressa Marcelino Cardoso, Barbara Marques, Caio César Damasceno da Silva, Caio Sérgio Damasceno da Silva, Carlos Alberto Jr., Carolina Pereira Lyon, Darlan Aragão Mesquita, Eani Marculino de Moura, Eduardo Saavedra Losada Lopes, Ettore Riter, Felipe Augusto Roza, Felipe Sousa Santana, Flavio Henrique Dias Saldanha, Iara Grisi, Jonatas Pinto Lima, José Carlos dos Santos, Leticia Duarte Hartmann, Manuel Macias, Marcos Sorrilha, Mayara Araujo dos Reis, Moises Antiqueira, Paulo Henrique de Nunzio, Rafael Alves de Oliveira, Rafael Igino Serafim, Rafael Machado Saldanha, Raphael Almeida, Raul Landim Borges, Renata Sanches, Rodrigo Vieira Pimentel, Romulo Chagas, Sr. Pinto, Tiago Gonçalves, Victor Silva de Paula, Wagner de Andrade Alves, Willian Scaquett, Willian Spengler e Yuri Morales See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

On Saturday, February 16, Alex hosted the CHP Winter Symposium 2019 with Jake Kurtz and Dr. Mike Dovidio (you earned it, Mike!) to mix up some light-bodied libations and discuss everything under the sun in The Sunshine State. Among the topics covered are starting and running your own business, erectile dysfunction, nonconformism with "The Man," Far Cry water, metric system conversions, and Priapus, to name a few. Special thanks to the three beautiful and very special women in the room for their peanut-gallery contributions, keeping Louie the Golden Retriever quiet for an hour, and putting up with us generally. You can find Jake on Instagram @iamJakeKurtz.

In this episode, the fuhitos of BL Garden discuss recommendations based on commonly loved BL, and Melissa finally sees the light on omegaverse. This episode is an extended adaption of our recommendations panel previously hosted at A-Kon 2017. (Discussions are prefaced with content warnings) Discussed in this episode Avialae by Lucid (webcomic) Banana Fish (anime/manga) Born Sexy Tomorrow by BBVG (webcomic) Brute by Kim Fielding (novel) Captive Prince by C. S. Pacat (novel) Cretian Cow by Gengoroh Tagame (geicomi) Dramatical Murder (visual novel) Don't Be Cruel by Yonezou Nekota (manga) Honto Yajuu by Yamamoto Kotetsuko (manga) In These Words by Guilt|Pleasure I've Seen It All by Shoko Takaku (manga) Junjou Romantica by Shungiku Nakamura (manga) Killing Stalking by Koogi (manhwa) Kaptara by Chip Zdarsky and Kagan McLeod (comic) No, Thank You!!! (visual novel) On Doorstep by CTK (manga) Oyajina! by Hiiragi Nozomu (manga) Priapus by Mentaiko Itto (geicomi) Private Teacher by Moegi Yuu (manga) Sakura Gari by Yuu Watase (manga) Sense8 (TV show) Starfighter by HamletMachine (webcomic) Supernatural (TV show) Ten Count by Rihito Takarai(anime/manga) Twittering Birds Never Fly by Kou Yoneda (manga) Under Grand Hotel by Mika Sadahiro (manga)

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The Science Enthusiast Podcast!Just the right amount of not-a-science-podcast! It's not the worst, but thank you for listening (and we're sorry?)! Hosts:Natalie Newell (Skeptical Parenting) and Dan Broadbent (A Science Enthusiast)! Follow the podcast on Youtube athttp://bit.ly/SciEnthusiastPodcast! Sponsor: Our friend Vance! (YOU can sponsor the show at patreon [http://patreon.com/tSEpodcast] or by buying some merch ataScienceEnthusiast.com/store!) God of the week:Priapus! (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priapus) Interview:Rob Sharkey, AKA ‘The Shark Farmer!' According to his Twitter bio,

Scott Sharpe talks about the God of Gardening Priapus.

Varför vad den grekiske guden Priapus så hånad för sin stora penis och hur kommer det sig att kvinnliga skulpturer inte har något kön över huvudtaget? I Saker jag har hörts 21:a avsnitt klär vi av den avbildade kroppen! Varför ser folk ut som de gör i konsten?

This week, I have been reading a fascinating book of historical fiction entitled, The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas. As you will hear in this PODCAST, in the book Douglas records a conversation between Marcellus, son of a Roman Senator who has fallen out of favor with Emperor Tiberias, and Marcellus’ slave, Demetrius. The conversation goes like this: 'Demetrius'—Marcellus swept the sky with an all-inclusive arm—'do you ever believe in the gods?' 'If it is my master's wish, I do,' replied Demetrius, perfunctorily. 'No, no,' said Marcellus, testily, 'be honest. Never mind what I believe. Tell me what you think about the gods. Do you ever pray to them?' 'When I was a small boy, sir,' complied Demetrius, 'my mother taught us to invoke the gods. She was quite religious. There was a pretty statue of Priapus in our flower garden. I can still remember my mother kneeling there, on a fine spring day, with a little trowel in one hand and a basket of plants in the other. She believed that Priapus made things grow.... And my mother prayed to Athene every morning when my brothers and I followed the teacher into our schoolroom.' He was silent for a while; and then, prodded by an encouraging nod from Marcellus, he continued: 'My father offered libations to the gods on their feast-days, but I think that was to please my mother.' 'This is most interesting—and touching, too,' observed Marcellus. 'But you haven't quite answered my question, Demetrius. Do you believe in the gods—now?' 'No, sir.' 'Do you mean that you don't believe they render any service to men? Or do you doubt that the gods exist, at all?' 'I think it better for the mind, sir, to disbelieve in their existence. The last time I prayed—it was on the day that our home was broken up. As my father was led away in chains, I knelt by my mother and we prayed to Zeus—the Father of gods and men—to protect his life. But Zeus either did not hear us; or, hearing us, had no power to aid us; or, having power to aid us, refused to do so. It is better, I think, to believe that he did not hear us than to believe that he was unable or unwilling to give aid. ... That afternoon my mother went away—upon her own invitation—because she could bear no more sorrow.... I have not prayed to the gods since that day, sir. I have cursed and reviled them, on occasions; but with very little hope that they might resent my blasphemies. Cursing the gods is foolish and futile, I think.' Well, you could reason, of course Zeus did not hear Demetrius’ prayers. There was no Zeus to hear him. And of course, you could also argue, there was no answer to his prayer because there was no Zeus who promised Demetrius what Jesus promised to us: "So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened." Yet, how many of us have had a crisis of faith equal to that of Demetrius precisely because we prayed to our God in a time of crisis, in Jesus’ name, the same Jesus who did indeed make to us this promise: "So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened…" ...and yet, nothing happened. What exactly did Jesus mean by those words, His prayer promise to us? Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.

This week's Solid Cat may go down as one of our best. High praise from low expectations. What's on top today? When Banjo Kat comes in-studio, it will be a hoedown. Germans are more than beer and sausages. Some musical instruments sound like cats, and vice versa. Pico Rivera is a honey hole of hot feline action. Our 5 year old daughter is going to take drum lessons ('cause we're awesome parents). We're getting a new Doctor Who. There is going to be a new Noah's Ark theme park, that'll have a pre-flood pagan temple; the pagan part will be an unmitigated success. What is the Florentine Kiss and why does it sound so dirty. We have beavers in Belarus; yet, beaver hunting has no sporting interest. Then in our feature, we talk gnomes. From Gnome Con to gnomes originated from Priapus to David the Gnome to the Garden Gnome Liberation Front, it's gnometastic. Solid Cat Game Night returns with Name That Tune: ABBA edition. We grab some cougar tails (the cats, not the ladies). We lament the lack of manly men, champagne cocktails are a whore's drink, and Val thinks True Blood's Alcide is a buffer version of D-mo. Ah-wooo!

In this episode: Hello! Flatus Show listeners. Last week I attended a Heathen Blòt and hailed the Gods and my ancestors. I also have been hiking and I was cast as Casca in the CAST production of Julius Cesar. Call my number and tell me you love me. I am looking for other recorder and ukulele pervs with which to play music, so contact me if your are on the North Shore. Check out Retrofoodkink.com for exciting recipes. I have an iPhone so if you have one, we can have FACETIME together! If you have any questions, or comments leave them on the blog, email me at Flatusshow@gmail.com or call me at 206-984-3617. Enjoy and thank you for listening. The Flatus Show 340 Retro Food Kink Huberd's Shoe Grease The Lady's Own Cookery Book (1844) Gregor Mendel Priapus Heathen Gods Ásatrú beginners course Waltham House Tripe Make Wikipedia articles Kindle friendly Mr. S Leather Drive-In Cult Classics - 8 Movie Set at about $4 bucks! Wow! And it includes "Malibu High"! Nil Desperandum If you want to be part of the show [and Jose & Mellie would like that] you can reach me at: EMAIL: flatusshow@gmail.com Here is the RSS feed, so you can subscribe with whatever aggregator floats your boat: FLATUS Show RSS Subscribe through iTunes with one click! Click HERE to subscribe with iTunes This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License.

In this episode: Hello! Flatus Show listeners. Last weeks was Mates Leather Weekend and I had a great time. I even met the guy who used to do the Deep Fabulosity podcast. Dd I tell you I tried out for First Mate? I bombed horribly, but I had fun and was true to myself the entire time. Call my number and tell me you love me. I am looking for other recorder and ukulele pervs with which to play music, so contact me if your are on the North Shore. Check out Retrofoodkink.com for exciting recipes. I have an iPhone so if you have one, we can have FACETIME together! If you have any questions, or comments leave them on the blog, email me at Flatusshow@gmail.com or call me at 206-984-3617. Enjoy and thank you for listening. The Flatus Show 339 Retro Food Kink Huberd's Shoe Grease The Lady's Own Cookery Book (1844) Gregor Mendel Priapus Heathen Gods Ásatrú beginners course Waltham House Tripe Make Wikipedia articles Kindle friendly Mr. S Leather Drive-In Cult Classics - 8 Movie Set at about $4 bucks! Wow! And it includes "Malibu High"! Nil Desperandum If you want to be part of the show [and Jose & Mellie would like that] you can reach me at: EMAIL: flatusshow@gmail.com Here is the RSS feed, so you can subscribe with whatever aggregator floats your boat: FLATUS Show RSS Subscribe through iTunes with one click! Click HERE to subscribe with iTunes This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License.

What's up, Witches?! If that's not the longest title of a podcast ever, then we're doing something wrong. Velma and Fire Lyte covered so many topics, we just didn't know what to title the show. Topics: Pagan Power Tools, Cory as Priapus, Unintentional Gay References, Satanic Rituals for Peace, Lori Obscure tears you a new one, and we have a special visit from the Dalai Lama. Later Witches, FL & VN

Welcome to episode 7 of The Wigglian Way. Tonight, as we stroll down the path, Sparrow and Mojo talk about the upcoming Sabbat, Beltaine. Also tonight; Witch School-For Sale! You can be the owner of a real live witch school.Tonight we hear songs from two of our favorite artists; Gaia Consort and Chalice and Blade and songs from the best 'pagan' movie, The Wicker Man.The lovely Sarah has started a garden blog, so you can keep up with our gardening follies, please spend some time in Priapus' Plot.

Die Beurteilung der Erektionsfähigkeit während audiovisueller sexueller Stimulation und/oder intrakavernöser Schwellkörperinjektionstestung ist abhängig von der subjektiven Einschätzung des Untersuchers. Die kontinuierliche Aufzeichnung der Penisrigidität mit Hilfe dem Penis angelegter Meßschleifen ermöglicht eine objektive Dokumentation der Rigidität während der Untersuchung, erlaubt aber keine Aussage über eine Längen-, Durchmesser- oder Volumenzunahme des Penis oder Deviation des Gliedes bei Erektion. In Experimenten mit Penismodellen konnten wir demonstrieren, daß ein von uns konzipiertes Sichtprüfsystem (“PRIAPUS”) exakt und reproduzierbar berührungsfrei Länge, Durchmesser und Volumen mißt (7). Die erste praktische Anwendung dieses Real-Time-Photogrammetrie-Systems im Vergleich mit der RigiScan®-Aufzeichnung bei 30 Probanden zeigte eine signifikante Korrelation der Rigidität mit der Zunahme des maximalen Penisdurchmessers und des Volumens. Bei 11 Probanden mit einer Rigidität > 70 % wurde die physiologische Kurvatur des erigierten Penis mit 0,05 Grad/cm bestimmt.

Mon, 1 Jan 1990 12:00:00 +0100 https://epub.ub.uni-muenchen.de/10314/1/stief_christian_10314.pdf Jonas, Udo; Leberl, F.; Kramer, A.; Stief, Christian Georg; Thon, Walter F. ddc: