Podcasts about Standing

Standing for your marriage can be one of the loneliest journeys, but you were never meant to do it alone. In this episode of the Fight for Your Marriage Podcast, Charlyne and Lori talk with Tessa about practical ways to find and build godly community during your stand.   Together, they share wisdom on how to identify safe people, balance vulnerability with discernment, connect across age and life stages, and keep Jesus at the center of every friendship.   You'll learn simple, intentional ways to reach out, serve others, pray together, and recognize how God may already be placing the right people in your path. If you've been praying for meaningful friendships during this season, this episode will remind you that God cares deeply about your need for community.   Join a Connect Group Here   Ep 210 – Even If: A Journey of Surrender and Hope – Tessa's Testimony   Ep 204 – Faith & Friendship – Trusting Jesus as the Ultimate Friend and Navigating Changes in Friendships   Download the episode transcription here     Follow on Instagram - @rejoicemarriageministries   Follow on Facebook - @rejoicemarriageministries   Every day, you can receive encouragement straight to your inbox through our Fight for Your Marriage Devotional and find free resources and prayers to pray over your marriage. To take advantage of these resources and others, visit https://rejoiceministries.org   We appreciate your feedback. If this episode touches you, please leave us a five-star rating and review, helping us reach new listeners with hope for their marriage. You can also subscribe to our show on YouTube, Spotify or iTunes.  

A moderate one in the heat of high summer in LA. Standing balance challenge. 

What part of your life is feeling dark right now? In this special on-location episode, Dr. Sri takes us up Mount Tabor—the very site of the Transfiguration—to explore how this powerful event speaks directly into the darkest places of our lives. Standing where Peter, James, and John once witnessed Christ's glory, Dr. Sri reflects on why Jesus revealed His radiance at this pivotal moment and how that same light strengthens us through seasons of confusion, fear, weakness, and suffering. _ _ For full shownotes, visit Ascensionpress.com/Allthingscatholic, or text ALLTHINGSCATHOLIC to 33-777 for weekly shownotes sent to your inbox.

In a digital world that's getting louder by the minute, how do you actually stand out in 2026?In this powerful conversation, Allison Walsh is joined by a seasoned business coach who specializes in helping online coaches and service providers uncover their distinctive edge—the unique blend of story, strengths, and strategy that sets them apart. From building a multi–six figure network marketing business to pivoting into coaching and navigating entrepreneurship as a twin mom, she shares what it really took to align her message, niche, and business model.You'll learn why the 2026 online landscape demands deeper storytelling, clearer messaging, and simple frameworks—and why sticking with generic “tips and tricks” content will keep you invisible. Together, Allison and her guest break down the real steps to creating content that sounds like you, sells your expertise, and resonates with the right people.In this episode, you'll learn:How her journey from network marketing to coaching evolved over 10+ yearsWhy becoming a mom of twins forced powerful business pivots that led to deeper alignmentWhat a “distinctive edge” actually is—and how to identify the parts of your story and skill set that make you unforgettableHow one client went from $4–5K months to consistent 10K months in just a few months heading into 2026Why story-based content outperforms generic educational posts in today's algorithmHow to pick the right story when you have too many to choose fromWhy a clear 3-step framework or signature process is a must-have in 2026 for high-ticket coachingHow AI tools like ChatGPT can support you without erasing your human voiceWhy your story does NOT need to be dramatic to convert—emotion and relatability winThe new 2026 definition of confidence and authenticity onlineIf you want to be remembered, recognized, and referred this year, this episode will give you the messaging clarity and storytelling strategy you need. Memorable Moments / HighlightsA decade-long evolution from network marketing to business coachingHow motherhood catalyzed long-overdue business alignmentThe true meaning of a “distinctive edge” and why it matters more than ever in 2026The real client case study behind hitting consistent 10K monthsWhy stories outperform “3 tips” posts—and what to create insteadA simple filter for choosing the one story that positions your expertiseThe power of owning and articulating your frameworkHow to use AI while still preserving your voiceWhy your quiet, ordinary story might be your most magnetic assetA refreshing definition of confidence rooted in authenticityConnect with Meg:Get the Business Story Blueprint here: https://meganyelaney.com/business-story-blueprintFollow Meg on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/meganyelaneyListen to Business Not As Usual: https://meganyelaney.com/podcast Connect with Allison:Instagram → @allisonwalshLearn more about the Impact Brand Accelerator → https://bit.ly/impactbrandaccelerator

Have any questions, insights, or feedback? Send me a text!Mishlei 17:7 - Societal Standing and Speech Incongruityעֲטֶרֶת זְקֵנִים בְּנֵי בָנִים וְתִפְאֶרֶת בָּנִים אֲבוֹתָם:Length: 1 hour 41 minutesSynopsis: This evening (11/17/25), in our Monday Night Mishlei shiur, we learned a pasuk with distinct translation crossroads. We came up with several nice approaches on our own, then turned to the meforshim who provided us with refreshingly different approaches! All the ideas were practical, and some in a high-stakes way. Great learning as always, even though we were missing some of our usual crew.-----מקורות:משלי יז:זתרגום כתוביםמלבי"ם ביאור המילותמצודת דודמאירי-----This week's Torah content is sponsored by Joey and Estee Lichter (and family) in honor of Dovid (their son and my talmid) officially making aliyah!-----If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.-----Substack: rabbischneeweiss.substack.com/YU Torah: yutorah.org/teachers/Rabbi-Matt-SchneeweissPatreon: patreon.com/rabbischneeweissYouTube Channel: youtube.com/rabbischneeweissInstagram: instagram.com/rabbischneeweiss/"The Stoic Jew" Podcast: thestoicjew.buzzsprout.com"Machshavah Lab" Podcast: machshavahlab.buzzsprout.com"The Mishlei Podcast": mishlei.buzzsprout.com"Rambam Bekius" Podcast: rambambekius.buzzsprout.com"The Tefilah Podcast": tefilah.buzzsprout.comOld Blog: kolhaseridim.blogspot.com/WhatsApp Content Hub (where I post all my content and announce my public classes): https://chat.whatsapp.com/GEB1EPIAarsELfHWuI2k0HAmazon Wishlist: amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/Y72CSP86S24W?ref_=wl_sharel

Winter feed costs continue to be one of the greatest determiners of profitability for ranches. Meaning, that more of it we have to do using equipment the less profitable we will be. Brett McRae has been working diligently to find ways to cut down on winter feed costs. One practice that has really moved the needle for him and his operation is grazing standing corn. Today we discuss this practice with him. We talk about how he chooses a field, how he determines forage demand, forage availability, as well as the soil health benefits of this practice.Thanks to our Studio Sponsor, Understanding Ag!Head over to UnderstandingAg.com to book your consultation today!Sponsor:Ranch RightSea-90 Ocean Minerals

Crystal and Dedrick Polite are visionary real estate entrepreneurs, TV personalities, and founders of Be Polite Properties. As stars of A&E's “5050 Flip,” they've built a multi-million-dollar real estate empire rooted in faith, family, and an unwavering commitment to generational wealth. Raised in backgrounds shaped by generational poverty, the Polites turned intentionality, resilience, and service into their guiding principles, paving a legacy that goes beyond building doors to opening them for others. Their journey inspires countless aspiring investors through mentorship, coaching, and a powerful message of lifting as they rise. Takeaways: Intentionality fuels success: Crystal and Dedrick attribute their achievements to going into every partnership and opportunity with purpose and clarity—from their first “business meeting” date to scaling their real estate ventures. Mentorship matters: Their path was forged not by luck, but by investing in themselves, seeking out guidance, and ultimately becoming mentors to others. They stress that those who pay for mentorship are the ones who truly commit and succeed. Legacy is impact: Building wealth isn't just about accumulating properties; for the Polites, true legacy is measured by how many doors they open for others—dedicating themselves to empowering the next generation and uplifting their community.  Sound Bites: “You make a living by what you get. You make a life by what you give.” —Crystal Polite “People who pay, pay attention.” —Crystal Polite “Start how you want to finish… and that's exactly what we did on that first date.” —Dedrick Polite Connect & Discover The Polites: Instagram:  @dedricpolite                      @mrsbepolite YouTube:    @bepolite Website:      politewealthportal.com

H4-Mon11/17/25-TheTaraShow- "We are now under global cooling, the ice sheets are thickening " , " The Republicans abandons Trump after the Dems launched the fake Lawfare last year" , " Lindsey Graham is a good standing member of the Uniparty" , "These Democrats are playing for keeps, they want to break the repub party. "

BJU equips students to impact the world as they live for truth, seize opportunities and embrace life experiences. Standing on the authority of the Bible, BJU shapes heads, hearts and backbones for Christ by equipping students to lead lives of integrity and influence others for God's glory. www.bju.edu

Welcome to the Sunday Morning Worship Service of New Covenant Christian Ministries with Pastor Bill and Dr. D'Ann Johnson. Our mission is “Transforming all people into fully devoted followers of Jesus Christ.” In today's sermon, Pastor Kenneth Bryant II continues in his "Standing on Business" series, focusing on defense.

It's the Styx and Bones season finale and the girls are standing on business and dropping their biggest surprise yet. We're wrapping up this season with major announcements and a glimpse into what's next for the temple.✈️ Email Sign Up for Greece Updates:Get connected and stay updated on traveling to Greece with us → https://trovatrip.com/get-connected?hostId=68e7ed2c36348452268ce909&host=Styx+And+Bones

Hi everyone, welcome to Home Design Chat with Nancy. My podcasts are  all about your home…how to plan, design and execute your remodel and much more.When we talk about bathroom design, two themes always seem to show up: safety and luxury. Homeowners want a space that feels spa-worthy, but they also want it to function comfortably and safely for everyday life. And right in the middle of that conversation sits the ever-popular freestanding tub. People love it—but is the appeal really about luxury, or is there something deeper going on? In today's episode, we're looking at how they fit into a safe and well-planned layout, and whether they're the right choice for your next remodel.Topics of discussion:The risks of free-standing tubsHow risks can be mitigatedFree-standing tubs might work with design adjustmentsMore design ideas for a safe bathroomIf you have questions please send them to Nancy@NancyHugo.comBy the way, you can send me an email at Nancy@nancyhugo.com to get on my email list for DesignersCircleHQ.com.  All the podcasts are posted there as well as Design Trends, Design News and more.  DesignersCirclehq.com is a website!If you want to learn more about me, go to NancyHugo.com This podcast is sponsored by ⁠⁠Monogram.com

Standing at the crossroads, how do you choose which way to go

The Last Samurai Standing is 'Shogun' meets 'Squid Game' on steroids ⚔️youtube.com/thenewblerdorder✨ Last Samurai Standing Debuts!! EXCLUSIVE Running Man & Power Force Interviews & MUCH MORE!!

On this episode of The Best Thing We Watched This Week, Ruben and Chris and I discuss why each of us is correct about our views on Edgar Wright's The Running Man, plus we talk about Osgood Perkins' new horror KEEPER. We'll dive into Scissor Seven Season 5, Last Samurai Standing, As You Stood By, Jujutsu Kaisen: Execution, SISU, and more! And of course we'll chat with you too! What's the best thing you watched this week?

"Standing firm in Jesus" - A Service of Morning Prayer Today our service, for the second Sunday before Advent, is from Church House Chapel in London.Leading this quiet and reflective time together is Rev Sharon Grenham-Thompson, who will be reflecting on standing firm in Jesus and never giving up in doing what is right.Our prayers today will be led by the Bishop of Tewkesbury, Robert Springett, and will focus on safeguarding.We invite you to tune in and reconnect with scripture, worship, and fellowship - alongside our growing online community across England and beyond.

Reposted from They Did What?!, which you can find now or very soon at: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://podcastica.com/podcast/they-did-what⁠⁠ — Kelsey, Gen, and special guest Becky won't be sending housewarming gifts after watching Netflix's documentary The Perfect Neighbor. Through body-cam and police footage, director Geeta Gandbhir tells a real-life horror story spanning two years and ending in tragedy for a family, a neighborhood, and a Florida community caught in the crosshairs of Stand Your Ground. Next up: “The Search for Instagram's Worst Con Artist” Episodes 1 & 2, on Netflix Send us an email or a voice message to theydidwhat@podcastica.com,or look out for our episode comment posts on facebook.com/groups/podcastica. We'd love to hear from you! Waiting for our next episode? Leave us a rating or review wherever you get your podcasts and help more people find us to join the fun! Then explore other great shows in the Podcastica network at podcastica.com!   Mentioned: Listen to more of Becky over at What's On Tonight: https://www.facebook.com/share/1BZB84vYLG/ Impact of Stand Your Ground Laws: https://www.rand.org/research/gun-policy/analysis/stand-your-ground.html https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2789154 https://everytownresearch.org/report/stand-your-ground-laws-are-a-license-to-kill/ https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2023/04/16/william-hale-frank-allison-florida-road-rage-shooting/11652073002/ https://www.newyorker.com/culture/on-television/the-lessons-of-the-perfect-neighbor https://standinginthegapfund.org/vision/ The Standing In The Gap Fund was created to support families like AJ's who are suffering from loss and unsure of how to navigate the aftermath. Funds from the Standing in the Gap Fund support families and organizers in the most critical spaces of healing as they navigate their journeys. https://www.gofundme.com/f/Justice-for-Ajike-Owens Donate to cover Owens' funeral and memorial expenses. Since the documentary's release, donations have continued to roll in, and the fundraiser has now been repurposed to help with the cost of Owens' children's education, living expenses, and rent. Where Are They Now? Susan Lorincz https://www.newsweek.com/woman-who-fatally-shot-mother-of-four-threatens-to-sue-victims-kids-10984713 Pamela Dias https://www.cosmopolitan.com/entertainment/celebs/a69137814/the-perfect-neighbor-where-is-aj-owens-mum-pamela-dias/ The Kids - Titus, Afrika, Israel “Izzy” and Isaac https://people.com/where-are-aj-owens-kids-now-11831981 https://fb.watch/DgJ-A-gaqN/ Support Resources: https://www.fsresidential.com/corporate/news-and-articles/articles/neighbor-harassment/ This guide will help you identify neighbor harassment, understand what actions to take, and explore resources available to you. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Show Notes (aka: the reality check your overachiever era didn't know it needed):This one's for my ambitious girls who are tired of running on empty, constantly trying to prove instead of position.Let me ask you straight up: Who told you you had to outwork everyone to win?Because the truth is… you don't.You don't need to beat the algorithm.You don't need to be everywhere, say everything, serve everyone.You just need to outwork three people — and one of them is you.In this episode, I'm breaking down:The past version of you who chose comfort over calling — and how to stop letting her leadThe woman who already has what you want — and why she's not your competition, she's your blueprintThe doubter in your life who's quietly hoping you'll quit — and how you're going to out-rise her in silenceHow friction = favor, and resistance = proof you're growing into your next levelWhy ICONs don't clap back — they cash checksWhy ICON FRIDAY™ is not a hype party — it's a holy assignment

Welcome to the Sunday Morning Worship Service of New Covenant Christian Ministries with Pastor Bill and Dr. D'Ann Johnson. Our mission is “Transforming all people into fully devoted followers of Jesus Christ.” In today's sermon, Pastor Kenneth Bryant II continues in his "Standing on Business" series, focusing on standing on truth and righteousneess..

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

A farmer's bloody revenge left seven women hanging from the hills of Nebraska—and over a century later, their screams still echo through the darkness while cars mysteriously stall and glowing red eyes watch from the shadows of Seven Sisters Road.IN THIS EPISODE: There are many legends from Nebraska involving supernatural entities, but one of the eerier accounts out there is the story of Nebraska's haunted “L Street”. According to legend, seven women were murdered on the road in the 1900s. Ever since, the road and surrounding hills have been a rumored hotbed of paranormal activity. It's labeled as "L Street" on the map – but locals call it “Seven Sisters Road. (The Terror of Seven Sisters Road) *** The restaurant is a bit dated with the servers wearing old-fashioned black and white aprons. The food was incredible, the place was spotlessly clean. It's definitely a restaurant you'll want to visit again when you pass that way again. Unfortunately, the restaurant won't be there… because it never was. (The Restaurant That Disappeared) *** They say chivalry is dead, but that was not so in 1875. Standing up to someone on behalf of your wife was not only common, but expected… even to the point of murder. (Tragedy At Vineland) *** Hawaii's MacKenzie State Park boasts beautiful scenery, pleasant weather for outdoor activities like hiking and fishing, and is a favorite of locals and tourists alike. But when the sun goes down, MacKenzie Park reveals its truth… it is extremely haunted. (Hawaii's Haunted MacKenzie Park) CHAPTERS & TIME STAMPS (All Times Approximate)…00:00:00.000 = Lead-In00:01:33.949 = Show Open00:03:46.465 = Terror of Seven Sisters Road00:24:18.766 = ***Tragedy at Vineland00:31:43.978 = Hawaii's Haunted MacKenzie Park00:39:47.242 = ***The Restaurant That Disappeared00:45:48.808 = Show Close*** = Begins immediately after inserted ad breakSOURCES and RESOURCES:“The Terror of Seven Sisters Road” by Sarah Buckholz for Antique Archaelogyhttps://weirddarkness.tiny.us/5eck2zmg, Chris Peters for the Omaha World-Heraldhttps://weirddarkness.tiny.us/1kq3krbo, Nick Downs https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/1jaam18x, and Erin Wisti for Graveyard Shift https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/pcgg744a“Tragedy at Vineland” by Robert Wilhelm for Murder By Gaslight: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/3howgpmp“The Restaurant That Disappeared” by Ellen Lloyd for Message to Eagle: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/ydxmkbo7“Hawaii's Haunted MacKenzie Park” by Brent Swancer for Mysterious Universe: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/165p8bcv=====(Over time links may become invalid, disappear, or have different content. I always make sure to give authors credit for the material I use whenever possible. If I somehow overlooked doing so for a story, or if a credit is incorrect, please let me know and I will rectify it in these show notes immediately. Some links included above may benefit me financially through qualifying purchases.)= = = = ="I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." — John 12:46= = = = =WeirdDarkness® is a registered trademark. Copyright ©2025, Weird Darkness.=====Originally aired: February 17, 2021EPISODE PAGE (includes sources): https://weirddarkness.com/SevenSistersRoadABOUT WEIRD DARKNESS: Weird Darkness is a true crime and paranormal podcast narrated by professional award-winning voice actor, Darren Marlar. Seven days per week, Weird Darkness focuses on all thing strange and macabre such as haunted locations, unsolved mysteries, true ghost stories, supernatural manifestations, urban legends, unsolved or cold case murders, conspiracy theories, and more. On Thursdays, this scary stories podcast features horror fiction along with the occasional creepypasta. Weird Darkness has been named one of the “Best 20 Storytellers in Podcasting” by Podcast Business Journal. Listeners have described the show as a cross between “Coast to Coast” with Art Bell, “The Twilight Zone” with Rod Serling, “Unsolved Mysteries” with Robert Stack, and “In Search Of” with Leonard Nimoy.DISCLAIMER: Ads heard during the podcast that are not in my voice are placed by third party agencies outside of my control and should not imply an endorsement by Weird Darkness or myself. *** Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised.#WeirdDarkness #SevenSistersRoad #HauntedRoads #TrueCrimeStory #ParanormalActivity #GhostStories #HauntedNebraska #UnexplainedMysteries #CreepyLegends #RealHaunting

Are we being molded into servants for something we don't understand? God doesn't ask for silence, he asks for courage. Whispered in the routine was the forfeiting of our consent. Darkness wins thru exhaustion. Locke and Hobbs were on it. Rebelling against despair. The invisible agreement between power and the people. Obedience as virtue. We choose the chains we wear. Freedom requires maintenance. Do we owe those who no longer keep their promises? Democracy is staring at the corpse of it's promise. Who will speak the truth when it costs something? Evil always pushes back. Free the small voice buried beneath your fear. Who gets to define the truth? Demanding obedience without legitimacy. All three branches of our gov't have been corrupt. Awaken or withdrawal. BBC tactics and J6 evidence come together. Working for the people is a good model. Is it a collapse or correction? New evidence is incoming. The Judge is going to release Tina Peters. Standing for the truth when you are alone. Kash and his girlfriend get complicated. We face digital integration without consent. Love is the physics of the soul. Where are the ops called Antifa and the Proud Boys? What they are doing behind the scenes is very scary. Stay centered and be ready.

This one's heavy, but it's SO important. Recorded during National Physician Suicide Awareness Day, Amanda, Laura, and Kendra dive into the emotions we're taught to push down in medicine: anguish, hopelessness, despair, sadness, and grief. No toxic positivity here—just honest conversation about what it really means to be human while practicing medicine.

Standing on the Word | Pastor Caleb Slavik by Riverside Church

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Decades of diligence from previous leadership have set up today's American Angus Association to be in strong financial standing. That's according to Darrell Stevenson, who just wrapped up his year as treasurer of the Association.“The American Angus Association, plus the four entities, worked well within our budget and we showed profits in each entity. Just to touch on that a little bit, we did see considerable growth this year with our investment portfolio,” Stevenson says, recapping the previous fiscal year.Stevenson was elected Association vice president at the 2025 Annual Convention of Delegates. He says member feedback, specifically from the recent membership survey, will continue to drive priorities in the upcoming year. “That feedback from the membership is what needs to drive us daily, weekly, anyway on setting forth those strategic plans … If there was anything that really came out of this, [it] was an appreciation for the true strength of our breed, and that is diversity. Diversity in cattle, diversity in opinions,” he says. “I am just grateful for the opportunity to be able to contribute on some of these decisions.”Visit AngusJournal.net for more and to subscribe.

Please Subscribe: https://bit.ly/SKWrestlingOba Femi is not just a prospect; he is the absolute, guaranteed next megastar for WWE.Standing 6'6" and 310 pounds, the Nigerian Nightmare possesses an unparalleled blend of size, intensity, and athletic ability that has seen him dominate NXT like few before him. This video breaks down the storming ascent of the former collegiate champion and WWE NIL success story. From his record-breaking run as NXT North American Champion to his massive 30-match winning streak, we explain why the hype is real and why Oba Femi is the Next Big Thing for WWE. Don't miss this in-depth exploration of the man poised to redefine WWE dominance in the 2020s. Oba Femi is inevitable, and we show you exactly why. #obafemi #wwe #brocklesnar #wrestling You can also visit our site: https://www.sportskeeda.com/wweFor more updates on Wrestling, follow us on:-WrestleBinge By Sportskeeda Wrestling:    / wrestlebingebysportskeeda  Facebook:   / skwrestling  Twitter:   / skwrestling_  Instagram:   / skwrestling_  TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sportskeedawr...Podcast: https://open.spotify.com/show/749eMMN...

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

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Few places in America hold as much tragedy—or supernatural energy—as the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. Standing in Weston, West Virginia, this massive 19th-century institution has witnessed it all: Civil War raids, rumored Confederate gold robberies, and decades of misunderstood mental health treatment that left deep emotional scars on both patients and staff. Brandi Butcher, Paranormal Event Manager at the asylum, guides listeners through its dark and fascinating history. From shadow figures in patient wards to unexplained voices echoing through abandoned corridors, every inch of the building seems alive with echoes of the past. After more than 160 years, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum remains one of America's most haunted locations—a place where history refuses to fade, and the spirits still remember their time within its walls. This is Part Two of our conversation. #TheGraveTalks #TransAlleghenyLunaticAsylum #HauntedWestVirginia #ParanormalInvestigations #HauntedAsylum #ParanormalPodcast #RealGhostStories #HauntedHistory #CivilWarGhosts #GhostHunting #SupernaturalEncounters #HauntedAmerica Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Standing Out in a Tough Economy|Positioning, Offers, and Local Search Moves that Win w/ Wes TowersWes Towers runs Uplift 360, a digital agency for builders and trades. His focus is simple: smarter websites, practical SEO, and growth you can measure. He earned his playbook on real jobs, not in theory, and now helps others skip the painful lessons.Links:https://uplift360.com.au/https://www.instagram.com/uplift_360/Tags:Business Growth,Construction,Digital Marketing,Entrepreneurship,Marketing,Religion & Spirituality,Search Engine Optimization (SEO),Small Business,Web Content,Web Design,Standing Out in a Tough Economy w/ Wes Towers,Phantom Electric Ghost PodcastSupport PEG by checking out our Sponsors:Download and use Newsly for free now from www.newsly.me or from the link in the description, and use promo code “GHOST” and receive a 1-month free premium subscription.The best tool for getting podcast guests:https://podmatch.com/signup/phantomelectricghostSubscribe to our Instagram for exclusive content:https://www.instagram.com/expansive_sound_experiments/Subscribe to our YouTube https://youtube.com/@phantomelectricghost?si=rEyT56WQvDsAoRprRSShttps://anchor.fm/s/3b31908/podcast/rssSubstackhttps://substack.com/@phantomelectricghost?utm_source=edit-profile-page

BJU equips students to impact the world as they live for truth, seize opportunities and embrace life experiences. Standing on the authority of the Bible, BJU shapes heads, hearts and backbones for Christ by equipping students to lead lives of integrity and influence others for God's glory. www.bju.edu

In this episode of The Off the Clock Show, Shawn Gervais and Marshall Hill unpack their observations from the SEMA show — the good, the recycled, and the genuinely innovative. They dive deep into what today's auto industry trends reveal about marketing, authenticity, and competition.From finding your edge in a crowded market to crafting irresistible offers for Black Friday and the holidays, the duo breaks down actionable strategies that can help any business cut through the noise. They discuss why short, honest content beats overpolished hype, how to speak your customer's language, and why taking imperfect action often wins over endless planning.If you're ready to level up your marketing game before the year ends, this episode's for you.

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Few places in America hold as much tragedy—or supernatural energy—as the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. Standing in Weston, West Virginia, this massive 19th-century institution has witnessed it all: Civil War raids, rumored Confederate gold robberies, and decades of misunderstood mental health treatment that left deep emotional scars on both patients and staff. Brandi Butcher, Paranormal Event Manager at the asylum, guides listeners through its dark and fascinating history. From shadow figures in patient wards to unexplained voices echoing through abandoned corridors, every inch of the building seems alive with echoes of the past. After more than 160 years, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum remains one of America's most haunted locations—a place where history refuses to fade, and the spirits still remember their time within its walls. #TheGraveTalks #TransAlleghenyLunaticAsylum #HauntedWestVirginia #ParanormalInvestigations #HauntedAsylum #ParanormalPodcast #RealGhostStories #HauntedHistory #CivilWarGhosts #GhostHunting #SupernaturalEncounters #HauntedAmerica Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

“The Lord says to Edom, ‘I will cut you down to size among the nations; you will be greatly despised. You have been deceived by your own pride because you live in a rock fortress and make your home high in the mountains. “Who can ever reach us way up here?” you ask boastfully. But even if you soar as high as eagles and build your nest among the stars, I will bring you crashing down,' says the Lord.” - Obadiah 1:2-4Obadiah is the shortest book of the Old Testament. Standing at one chapter, 21 verses, it's a quick yet pointed announcement of judgment against the land of Edom. While the book is short, it didn't stop my guest and me from talking about it for nearly 45 minutes. Obadiah has a lot to teach us on what God is judging Edom about, while also warning us what to be on the lookout for in our own lives. It's a book about the results of pride, violence, and apathy. To help us navigate the book of Obadiah is Dr. Paul Raabe, Professor Emeritus of Exegetical Theology at Concordia Seminary, author of a commentary on Obadiah, as well as a new commentary on Isaiah and Reclaiming the Creedal Jesus in America. Doable Discipleship is a Saddleback Church podcast produced and hosted by Jason Wieland. It premiered in 2017 and now offers more than 450 episodes. Episodes release every Tuesday on your favorite podcast app and on the Saddleback Church YouTube Channel (https://www.youtube.com/saddleback).Resources Related to This Episode:https://www.amazon.com/Obadiah-Anchor-Yale-Bible-Commentaries/dp/0300139713https://www.amazon.com/Isaiah-13-27-Commentary-Paul-Raabe/dp/0758681267/Subscribe to the Doable Discipleship podcast at Apple Podcasts (https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/doable-discipleship/id1240966935) or Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/show/1Zc9nuwQZOLadbFCZCmZ1V)Related Doable Discipleship Episodes: Navigating the Bible: Amos - https://youtu.be/8DqVHu7leDUNavigating the Bible: Joel - https://youtu.be/Ilg6r300q4UNavigating the Bible: Hosea - https://youtu.be/nWZ4TuAUSRQNavigating the Bible: Daniel - https://youtu.be/bnQ-PioWxfgNavigating the Bible: Ezekiel - https://youtu.be/hlg6gBYxqsgNavigating the Bible: Lamentations - https://youtu.be/6rrizlXeYXENavigating the Bible: Jeremiah - https://youtu.be/lXPjWl8PdRkNavigating the Bible: Isaiah - https://youtu.be/NZJLaPkgEgsNavigating the Bible: Song of Songs - https://youtu.be/Sg0CYlNBVMgNavigating the Bible: Ecclesiastes - https://youtu.be/-Wr7LCh8F9ENavigating the Bible: Proverbs - https://youtu.be/DytRT5AsZg8Navigating the Bible: Psalms - https://youtu.be/oZeesooAYUINavigating the Bible: Job - https://youtu.be/14jaf2T1eCQNavigating the Bible: Esther - https://youtu.be/7RZ7ATWQZucNavigating the Bible: Nehemiah - https://youtu.be/Gok4WDgwn5INavigating the Bible: Ezra - https://youtu.be/aBC0nEjYeyoNavigating the Bible: 2 Chronicles - https://youtu.be/OG3rHTgMgEINavigating the Bible: 1 Chronicles - https://youtu.be/lQ_Qc4zbfgANavigating the Bible: 2 Kings - https://youtu.be/04q9gDhBKTkNavigating the Bible: 1 Kings - https://youtu.be/aS-KoeQXl2kNavigating the Bible: 2 Samuel - https://youtu.be/ZbpafGgOW7cNavigating the Bible: 1 Samuel - https://youtu.be/lY8wPElSFMYNavigating the Bible: Rute - https://youtu.be/YaH-t-ZzTaMNavigating the Bible: Judges - https://youtu.be/qNGcOf2o0NUNavigating the Bible: Joshua - https://youtu.be/hF28aThBtFsNavigating the Bible: Deuteronomy - https://youtu.be/HzmNgPOM4zUNavigating the Bible: Numbers - https://youtu.be/H1HO6V9HDxsNavigating the Bible: Leviticus - https://youtu.be/08RhDCXYex4Navigating the Bible: Exodus - https://youtu.be/NB9UTpS1F3MNavigating the Bible: Genesis - https://youtu.be/ddhjMfOoasAInspiring Dreams by Keys of Moon | https://soundcloud.com/keysofmoonMusic promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/Creative Commons CC BY 4.0https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

How did NYC become the epicenter of all the tensions and promise of American society and politics, and do the Buddhist teachings have anything to offer to understanding this political moment? Using the rise of Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani in his home city—a city of perpetual immigrants—Ethan explores themes of community engagement, sangha, social democracy and the power of standing up for what you believe in to talk about this chaotic (yet potent) moment on Earth. Please support the podcast via Substack and subscribe for free or with small monthly contributions. Additional links and show notes are available there. Paid subscribers will receive occasional extras like guided meditations, extra podcast episodes and more! The Thursday Meditation Group happens each week at 8am ET on Thursdays, and a guided audio meditations are released monthly. Another bonus podcast for paid subscribers discussed a mindful take on intuition, and Ethan also offered instruction in the RAIN method for working with emotions with self-compassion. These are all available to paid subscribers. You can also subscribe to The Road Home podcast wherever you get your pods (Apple, Ethan's Website, etc). Subscribe now Find out about the 2026 Yearlong Buddhist Studies program at this link! Check out about upcoming free live events like a panel on Mindfulness and Holiday Stress Nov 12, a live talk with Ethan and Dan Harris December 10, and a live talk with Ethan and Roshi Joan Halifax January 6th! A new free video course on a classic Buddhist contemplation called The Five Remembrances is available at this link. Find out about the 2026 Yearlong Buddhist Studies program at this link! Check out all the cool offerings at our podcast sponsor Dharma Moon, including a free webinar with David Nichtern on the new Advanced Teacher training on November 20. Free video courses co-taught by Ethan and others, such as The Three Marks of Existence, are also available for download at Dharma Moon. Subscribe now Ethan's most recent book, Confidence: Holding Your Seat Through Life's Eight Worldly Winds was just awarded a gold medal in the 2025 Nautilus Book Awards. You can visit Ethan's website to order a signed copy. Please allow two weeks from the time of your order for your copy to arrive.

Join hosts John and Jackie Melfi from openlove101.com as they discuss common misconceptions about consensual non-monogamy and the stigmas they face as a swinger couple. In this enlightening conversation, they address the funny and sometimes frustrating questions they receive from "vanilla" friends, from concerns about hitting on partners to fears of association.   The Melfis share their experiences of educating curious strangers, dealing with people who avoid them due to their lifestyle choices, and their mission to demystify consensual non-monogamy. They emphasize that non-monogamous couples are remarkably similar to monogamous ones - they just follow a different relationship model.   TIMESTAMPS:   00:00 - Introduction to Open Love 101 Podcast 00:47 - Common misconceptions from vanilla friends 01:48 - Breaking down stigmas about swinger relationships 03:04 - The reality of consensual non-monogamy vs. stereotypes 05:07 - Educating others about open relationship models 06:31 - Dealing with people who avoid association 07:43 - Understanding societal subgroups and identity 09:06 - Challenges of morality clauses in workplaces 10:25 - Standing up against backlash and judgment   Are you curious about alternative relationship models or looking to better understand the swinger lifestyle? The Melfis offer a judgment-free zone where all questions are welcome.  

In this special Veterans Day episode of "Next Steps 4 Seniors: Conversations on Aging" host Wendy Jones honors Veterans Day with guest Vito Pampiloma, a decorated Vietnam War veteran. Vito shares his military experiences, reflects on the significance of Veterans Day, and discusses the sacrifices and challenges faced by veterans. Together, they emphasize the importance of recognizing all who serve, educating younger generations, and supporting veterans year-round. The conversation highlights the enduring bonds among veterans and encourages listeners to show gratitude through everyday acts of kindness and support, ensuring the legacy of respect for those who have served continues. Timestamps Introduction to the Show and Guest (00:00:00)Wendy introduces the show, its purpose, and welcomes Vito, a decorated Vietnam veteran. Vito’s Military Background (00:01:04)Vito shares his draft in 1965, training, and service as a door gunner in Vietnam. Origin and History of Veterans Day (00:02:15)Discussion of Armistice Day, its transformation to Veterans Day in 1954, and its significance. Who is a Veteran? (00:03:20)Clarifies the definition of a veteran and the importance of support personnel. Current U.S. Military Presence Worldwide (00:04:37)Vito explains the number of active duty personnel and U.S. military presence in over 60 countries. Honoring Veterans and Their Sacrifices (00:05:53)Reflects on the hardships faced by veterans from various wars and the ongoing impact on their lives. Passing the Torch to the Next Generation (00:08:45)Emphasizes the importance of teaching younger generations about freedom and sacrifice. Veteran Friendships and the Unspoken Bond (00:09:21)Vito shares personal stories about lifelong bonds with fellow veterans. World War II: Scale and Sacrifice (00:11:52)Wendy and Vito discuss WWII statistics, the D-Day landing, and the logistics of the war. D-Day Recap for Students (00:12:51)Vito gives a brief overview of the D-Day invasion and its significance. Vietnam War Memories and Army Nurses (00:14:05)Vito recounts experiences in Vietnam, highlights the role of army nurses, and mentions Bob Hope’s support. Standing with Veterans Today (00:17:29)Encouragement to honor and support veterans, both on Veterans Day and throughout the year. Current Military Recruiting and Ongoing Support (00:18:10)Notes high recruiting numbers and suggests ways to support veterans year-round. Honoring the Oldest Veterans (00:19:14)Wendy shares about the dwindling number of WWII veterans and the importance of personal gestures. The Greatest Generation and Continuing the Legacy (00:20:18)Vito reflects on the WWII generation and the responsibility of subsequent generations. Final Thoughts and Gratitude (00:21:27)Wendy and Vito express gratitude to veterans and urge listeners not to take freedom for granted.Learn more : https://nextsteps4seniors.com/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this episode of The Creative Boom Podcast, Katy Cowan chats with Emily Penny – brand strategist, writer and founder of Be Colourful – about why so many design studios blend into the crowd, and the secrets to finally breaking free. Emily shares findings from her new report, Fully Saturated, which analysed over 150 UK branding agencies. The results reveal a sector drowning in sameness – studios echoing the same promises, paralysed by fear, and too often hiding behind portfolio thinking. But Emily also uncovers the brave outliers: agencies daring to own their difference, lean into what makes them unique, and turn it into a powerful advantage. Their conversation digs into why creatives find it so hard to position themselves, the emotional blocks that keep agencies stuck, and how her 'Brandstrand framework' – with 18 distinct strategies – can help any studio discover what it truly wants to be famous for. Emily also speaks openly about her own journey, from launching Be Colourful in 2013 to embracing her voice as a "quiet" strategist in a loud industry, and why confidence starts with honesty. It's a sharp, inspiring episode full of practical takeaways... the kind that will help you ditch the copycat mentality and start standing out for the right reasons.

BJU equips students to impact the world as they live for truth, seize opportunities and embrace life experiences. Standing on the authority of the Bible, BJU shapes heads, hearts and backbones for Christ by equipping students to lead lives of integrity and influence others for God's glory. www.bju.edu

Drugs used to treat menopause symptoms will no longer carry a bold warning label. The AP's Ed Donahue reports.

Siquoyia Blue opens the Blue Alchemist Podcast with a confession: a book shook her to the core. Napoleon Hill’s Outwitting the Devil forced her to confront the habit of drifting—those quiet, unnoticed moments when intention fades and darker energies move in. Through vivid personal reflection, she traces how idleness becomes a gateway for fear, comparison, and spiritual darkness, and how the modern devil now often wears a Wi‑Fi connection. This episode walks listeners through three concentrated lessons: what drifting looks like mentally, emotionally, and spiritually; how distraction, social media, and fear act as modern instruments of the devil; and concrete ways to reclaim focus—choosing your circle, protecting your energy, and cultivating daily practices that anchor you. With candid storytelling and practical challenges, Siquoyia turns a book’s wisdom into a life plan for anyone ready to stop floating and start directing their story. Subscribe to Blu Alchemist Podcast Substack Newsletter: https://siquoyiablue.substack.com/ Podcast ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Website: https://www.blualchemistpodcast.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Siquoyia Blue Website: https://siquoyiablue.komi.io⁠⁠⁠⁠ YouTube: @blualchemistpodcast Buy Dating Assassins Card Game: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.datingassassins.com ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ If you want to either be a guest on or find guests for your podcast, please sign up here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.joinpodmatch.com/siquoyia⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Donate via Cashapp: @KingSiquoyia or Venmo: @KingShay Thanks for listening! Subscribe, Share and Follow us!

Bauer continues his insightful conversation with Pastor Gary Hamrick about his book, Standing on the Edge of Eternity. They explore God's heart behind prophecy, the role of “the two witnesses,” and why current world events point to Christ's return. Discover how Revelation reveals God's rescue plan for a hurting world. To support this ministry financially, visit: https://www.oneplace.com/donate/707/29

Brentley Weissman joins the show as we run through every matchup — from Thursday night to Monday night. We'll hit the biggest storylines, key matchups, and our picks for each game. (0:00) Welcome To The Mina Kimes Show Featuring Lenny! (1:55) Raiders @ Broncos Preview (8:15) Giants @ Bears Preview (14:40) Bills @ Dolphins Preview (18:10) Ravens @ Vikings Preview (27:09) Browns @ Jets Preview (27:22) Thoughts On The Jets Trade Deadline Moves (33:26) Patriots @ Buccaneers Preview (39:22) Jaguars @ Texans Preview (42:57) Falcons @ Colts Preview (49:20) Cardinals @ Seahawks Preview (54:44) Saints @ Panthers Preview (57:45) Rams @ 49ers Preview (1:01:48) Lions @ Commanders Preview (1:04:00) Steelers @ Chargers Preview (1:09:10) Eagles @ Packers Preview Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Is Belle Grove Plantation haunted? Many have dared to ask, but few were prepared for the answer. Standing on the banks of the Rappahannock River in Virginia, Belle Grove is a place where time folds in on itself. Once home to generations of families — and touched by both the glory and horror of American history — its halls now whisper with something that refuses to fade. Visitors speak of disembodied voices calling from the stairwell. Shadowy figures glide past windows. Soldiers in blue and gray march across the lawns where they once bled. And then there are the two who appear most often: the Lady in White, forever watching from the balcony, and the young African-American girl in a yellow dress, clutching something unseen, her sorrow echoing through centuries. From SyFy Channel's Ghost Hunters to countless paranormal investigators, no one has walked away from Belle Grove unchanged. Electronic voice phenomena, cold spots, and full-bodied apparitions have all been documented inside its walls — making this historic mansion one of the most haunted sites in America. At Belle Grove Plantation, the past isn't over — it's waiting. #RealGhostStories #TheGraveTalks #BelleGrovePlantation #HauntedVirginia #TrueGhostStory #GhostHunters #CivilWarGhosts #HauntedHistory #PlantationGhosts #LadyInWhite #ParanormalPodcast #SupernaturalEncounters Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Are we living in the last days? On today's edition of Family Talk, Gary Bauer welcomes Pastor Gary Hamrick to discuss his groundbreaking book, Standing on the Edge of Eternity. He shares biblical insights about Revelation's prophecies, the rise of technology in end times events, and why Christians can live with hope instead of fear. To support this ministry financially, visit: https://www.oneplace.com/donate/707/29

A listener from Salt Lake City, Utah, recounts a lifetime of escalating paranormal activity inside a normal-looking 1960s home — a house her parents dismissed, but one that seemed fully aware of her. As a kid, her bed shook violently in the middle of the night. Every time she ran to her parents, she was told it was “just a truck.” But the shaking didn't stop. Then came the dread. Standing in the hallway. Using the bathroom at night. Feeling a hand reach for the light switch when no one was near. Something was there. Something that wanted her to know it. This wasn't just a haunted house. It was an oppressive, intelligent haunting — one that fed on isolation, grief, and return. She later realized: if she had stayed, it might have convinced her to end her life. If you've ever wondered why some people go back to the place that hurt them — this episode explains it. Some houses don't just haunt… they groom, they pull, and they don't let go. #trueghoststory #hauntedhouse #paranormalactivity #realghoststoriesonline #shadowfigure #sleepparalysis #poltergeist #supernatural #ghostencounters #demonhaunting Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story: