Podcasts about transfixed

"At this particular moment, am I in alignment with, am I in resonance with my values, with what I stand for, with what my heart beats for?" Migena Gjerazi   In this special compilation episode, I revisit conversations from Episodes 100 to 200, to bring together moments from conversations to explore how choice isn't always obvious, but it's always there. Awareness opens the door. Articulation gives it form. And action, aligned action, carries it forward. You'll hear different voices and perspectives, but the thread remains the same: we are more powerful than we realise when we give ourselves permission to see, to speak and to step. This episode is a celebration of that. Of the messy, hopeful and courageous work of being human and of choosing to continue moving towards what feels true for us.    People featured in this episode: Migena Gjerazi, Asking for Help, Episode 152 Paul Kervanis, Our Expectations, Episode 131 Rob Lawrence, Really Listening, Episode 172 Sam Allen, Reconnecting, Episode 120 Phil Dorman, What You Stand For, Episode 136 Achim Arnold, The Twin Trails, Episode 135 Carissa Bub, Hear the Silence Emerging, Episode 197 Alison Smith, A Metaphor for our Lives, Episode 178 Robyn Harris, The Answers are Inside, Episode 108 James Thirlwall, Transfixed, Episode 194

ABOUT CRYSTAL THAYER Stunning, busty, redhead, blue-eyed adult entertainer, content creator, and fashionista. Known for being the petite, natural girl next door with a slutty side and having the talent to handle any size, Crystal has filmed over 200 scenes for top-shelf studios, including Grooby, TransSensual, Evil Angel, TransAngels, Kink.com, Trans 500, Legal Porno, TransErotica, Transfixed, Gender X Films, and Deep Lush. She got her start working for Grooby site Femout and has never looked back. She won Best VR Scene at the 2021 TEAs and has received countless nominations, including Trans Performer of the Year and Favorite Trans Porn Star from the AVN Awards, Trans Performer of the Year from the XBIZ Awards, Best Trans Premium Social Media Star from the XBIZ Creator Awards, and Best New Face, Best Solo Model, Best Hardcore Performer, Best Internet Personality, Best Self-Producer, and her scene work from the TEAs. Crystal has also graced the pages of HOTspots Magazine in the Fort Lauderdale Annual Sex Edition.    Keep up with everything in Crystal's world on and off set by following here on Twitter/X and TikTok, @xcrystalthayerx, Instagram and Threads @crystalthayerofficial, Bluesky @xcrystalthayerx.bsky.social, and Reddit u/xcrystalthayerx. Get her most exclusive content, DM her, buy customs, see her go live, and find out why she's in the Top 0.3% of creators on OnlyFans crystalxthayer.com. Buy her content a la carte on ManyVids crystalthayerxxx.manyvids.com. And see out why she has over 19 million video views and over 21k subscribers on Pornhub pornhub.com/pornstar/crystal-thayer. This episode is brought to you by Olipop, a new healthy brand of soda. Go to https://drinkolipop.com/ and use code Marcela15 at checkout to get 15% off your first order. This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Shopify can help you take your business to the next level. Click HERE to set up your Shopify shop today and watch your business soar! This episode is brought to you by BranditScan, the best defese you have against social media fraud. Click HERE to get started with BranditScan today and get your first month for free. There is no better service to protect your social media accounts and your name and likeness. This episode is brought to you by Playboy. Click HERE to get a membership today and unlock a premium Playboy experience like no other. This episode is brought to you by Skillshare. Click HERE to start exploring all the courses Skillshare has to offer, from drawing and music, to graphic design and marketing, start expanding your knowledge today. This episode is brought to you by Fiverr. Click HERE to start hiring professionals to help you in various areas and take your business to the next level. This episode is brought to you by PodMatch. Click HERE to bring your podcasting journey to the next level by getting set up's Only Fans  VIP Membership HERE Free Membership HEREn

Join us as we explore Luke 9:28-36 and the powerful moment of Jesus' transfiguration. What does it mean to be changed by faith rather than simply captivated by it? Hear how Jesus calls us to be transfigured, not transfixed, by our own encounters with the Divine. From the mountain of glory to the difficult road of discipleship, we unpack how Jesus calls us to transformation, not stagnation.

"I was completely transfixed by the idea of these very tiny teapots and these tiny tea cups that were serving small amounts of tea." James Thirlwall   James Thirlwall and I explore the connection between tea and creating connection. I venture out of my usual space to record in a delightful and intimate setting: a tiny teahouse in East Oxford. We delve into the world of Japanese tea ceremonies as well as discover how Chinese tea ceremonies cultivate mindfulness and bring people together in a shared, intentional experience. James, who jokingly describes himself as 'a big man in a tiny teahouse', takes us through his journey from living in Japan, his interest in Buddhism and practicing Chinese medicine to opening his tiny teahouse. He shares insights about creating a space that encourages connection and reflection, the role of sensory experiences in evoking memories and emotions and how tea can foster better workplace dynamics. James Thirlwall is a tea lover, former acupuncturist, UKTA certified tea sommelier and educator who uses tea to bring people together. tinyteahouse events are designed to promote fellowship, harmony and inclusion - the values of a traditional Asian tea house culture. James has been working in hospitality for the last 5+ years and works with Michelin star chefs, 5-star hotels and some of the best hotels in Europe.   Connect with James Through his tinyteahouse website and on instagram   Resources Mentioned https://www.oxfordmail.co.uk/news/24262686.oxford-borough-among-coolest-neighbourhoods-uk/ Leading Beyond the Numbers by Susan Ní Chríodáin

The crime is horrific. The details are as bad as you can imagine. The woman at the centre of it, though? Exhibiting incredible bravery, under the worst possible circumstances. The rape trial of Gisele Pelicot's husband, and 50 other men, has transfixed the world. Not simply because of the crime itself, but because of the way Gisele has wrestled the narrative away from the ones the world all too often hears in the coverage and discussion of sex assault.Today we'll take you inside that courtroom, with a reporter who has been covering the trial, to explain exactly what's happening within its walls, and within the justice system of France — but the impact of this case well beyond that, because Gisele Pelicot's bravery may change more than just narratives.GUEST: Catherine Porter, international correspondent, The New York Times We love feedback at The Big Story, as well as suggestions for future episodes. You can find us:Through email at hello@thebigstorypodcast.ca Or by calling 416-935-5935 and leaving us a voicemailOr @thebigstoryfpn on Twitter

In Hawaiian, Leilani means royal flower, perfectly describing trans performer and content creator Leilani Li. Before entering the adult arena, Leilani studied fashion merchandising, ran an online boutique, and worked in the retail fashion industry. This is why she's known as a fashionista with the perfect outfit for every event and scene. Leilani has an ALT look with tats, a hot, curvy body, and charm, and she's a versatile performer who shoots infamous giant loads.   Leilani's first adult gig was as a cam model and content creator, but this year she's taken a deep dive into the industry and has worked for top studios including Evil Angel, Deep Lush, TransAngels, Transfixed, TransSensual, Black-Tgirls, and Tgirls.xxx. In 2024, Leilani won Best Trans Newcomer from the AVN Awards, and Black-Tgirls Model of the Year and Best Girl/Girl Scene from the TEAs. She's scored noms for Fave Trans Porn Star, Hottest Trans Creator Collab with Rodrigo Amor, and her scene work from the AVN Awards, Trans Premium Social Media Star of the Year from the XBIZ Creator Awards, Favorite Newcomer from the Pornhub Awards, Best Trans Performer from the Urban X Awards, Best Hardcore Performer and multiple noms for her scene work from the TEAs, and three Fleshbot Awards nominations for Best Content Creator and her scene work. She was also the Tgirls.xxx Tgirl of the Month for May 2023.   Keep up with everything in Leilani's world by following her on Twitter/X @Leilani_li, IG @iamleilanili, and Snapchat @leiilani_li. Indulge in her best content on and off set by subscribing to her OnlyFans onlyfans.com/leilani_li and Premium Snap @ luv_leiX. Check out her free content on Pornhub pornhub.com/pornstar/ts-leilani-li, and make sure to like her vids and subscribe. Get to know her even better by checking out her official site loveleili.com/home. This episode is brought to you by Olipop, a new healthy brand of soda. Go to https://drinkolipop.com/ and use code Marcela15 at checkout to get 15% off your first order. This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Shopify can help you take your business to the next level. Click HERE to set up your Shopify shop today and watch your business soar! This episode is brought to you by BranditScan, the best defense you have against social media fraud. Click HERE to get started with BranditScan today and get your first month for free. There is no better service to protect your social media accounts and your name and likeness. This episode is brought to you by Playboy. Click HERE to get a membership today and unlock a premium Playboy experience like no other. This episode is brought to you by Skillshare. Click HERE to start exploring all the courses Skillshare has to offer, from drawing and music, to graphic design and marketing, start expanding your knowledge today. This episode is brought to you by Fiverr. Click HERE to start hiring professionals to help you in various areas and take your business to the next level. This episode is brought to you by PodMatch. Click HERE to bring your podcasting journey to the next level by getting set up with guests to book matched directly for you!  Merch & More Get our podcast merch HERE Check out Marcela's Amazon Shop HERE Subscriptions Subscribe to Marcela's Only Fans  VIP Membership HERE Free Membership HERE 

12 - Dom's got a new award he wants to show off. Who's going to be on the show today? 1205 - Janet Yellen says the economy would go under if illegal immigrants were deported. We received responses from local leaders regarding their immigration policies. 1210 - Side question: Who is the best at their job? 1215 - Activist Riley Gaines joins the program and discusses her new 4 part docuseries Transfixed, which points out the trans agenda, especially in sports. Her and Dom discuss men crossing over to women's sports and injuring female opponents. They also touch on PA making flag football a sport and how it is an opportunity for women to play a predominantly male sport, but also discuss the possibility of men taking advantage of lax gender rules. Riley is coming to Philadelphia, we have to get her on! 1230 - Teamsters union did not endorse Kamala. Why? The union workers are skeptical of her being for the worker. We play clips highlighting why. 1250 - Dom shows us his award from the ZOA awards last night. What a unique trophy and conversation piece.

12 - Dom's got a new award he wants to show off. Who's going to be on the show today? 1205 - Janet Yellen says the economy would go under if illegal immigrants were deported. We received responses from local leaders regarding their immigration policies. 1210 - Side question: Who is the best at their job? 1215 - Activist Riley Gaines joins the program and discusses her new 4 part docuseries Transfixed, which points out the trans agenda, especially in sports. Her and Dom discuss men crossing over to women's sports and injuring female opponents. They also touch on PA making flag football a sport and how it is an opportunity for women to play a predominantly male sport, but also discuss the possibility of men taking advantage of lax gender rules. Riley is coming to Philadelphia, we have to get her on! 1230 - Teamsters union did not endorse Kamala. Why? The union workers are skeptical of her being for the worker. We play clips highlighting why. 1250 - Dom shows us his award from the ZOA awards last night. What a unique trophy and conversation piece. 1 - Trump Campaign Senior Advisor Tim Murtaugh joins us this afternoon. What does it say about Kamala's campaign that Teamsters does not endorse her campaign? How big of a win is that for Trump? What does it tell us about the Harris campaign that they are unwilling to flip flop on transgender issues? How will deportation work under a new Trump Presidency? 110 - What they're not telling you about this non-endorsement by Teamsters. 120 - Your calls on the side question. Replaying Janet Yellen's comments. 135 - Former Congressman Bob Brady joins the show. At Mulligan's, Bob made it clear he is on the same side as Dom on keeping the Sixers in South Philly, but today makes it clear that Mayor Parker's endorsement of the Chinatown arena is a maneuver to make sure she's not known as the Mayor who lost the Sixers. Will suburban fans even want to take Septa to and from games there? Sean Parker did not endorse either candidate, but did leak how his union workers feel about the election. But how do the local workers feel about her? Do we have a pizza bet on the horizon? How about lobster? 500,000 Kamala voters in the city of Philadelphia come election night. 150 - Taking a call from a Local 98 member who refutes some of Bob Barker's union claims. 2 - When will Democrats stop throwing COVID out as the excuse for high inflation instead of rates and spending? 210 - Updates on dropboxes in Pennsylvania. 215 - Dom's Money Melody 220 - Winner? Who is more unpopular, Trump or Taylor Swift? 225 - Your calls. 235 - Jim Lee, Commissioner of Springfield Twp. joins us to discuss his signature on a provision welcoming immigrants to his town. He and Dom go back and forth on whether or not it's a good idea for towns like this to welcome an influx of migrants. Jim argues the towns in the news are the extremes on immigration, while Dom says the number of these towns is increasing and the infrastructure cannot support giant numbers of new residents. Very good conversation you don't want to miss. 250 - Lightning Round!

In this episode, Ariel Demure joins Bree Mills to delve into a reflection on the adult industry through the lens of the queer experience. Ariel shares candidly, reflecting on her journey as a trans person raised in South Florida, before journeying to LA and uncovering the LGBTQ community. Bree and Ariel discuss dealing with burnout, self-discovery, and iconic TRANSFIXED scenes like ‘Under Her Wing' (2022) & ‘MUSES' (2022). Tune in to hear all things gender dysphoria, why married men are the best escorting clients, touching colons, the “F*CK YOU” factor, and SO MUCH MORE! Ariel Demure: https://www.instagram.com/arieldemure/ Bree Mills: https://www.instagram.com/thebreemills/ The ADULT TIME Podcast: ⁠https://linktr.ee/TheADULTTIMEPodcast ABOUT ADULT TIME: Adult Time is a digital subscription platform for a new era of adult entertainment. We are a brand built by people who believe in a future where mature audiences can safely, securely, and proudly have a place in their lineup for premium adult content. In addition to our addictive programming, Adult Time is dedicated to creating a personalized content experience for all our viewers with 400+ channels, 60,000 episodes, and VR and interactive toy integration.

Prisha Mosley shares her personal journey of transitioning and detransitioning, highlighting the role of trauma and social media in her decision-making process. She discusses the medical procedures she underwent, the physical and emotional effects they had on her, and the complications she continues to face. Prisha emphasizes the importance of truth and honesty in preventing others from going through similar experiences. Learn more about Prisha and others like her in Riley's new 4 part Docu-Series "Trans-Fixed" debuting on FOX Nation beginning Thursday, September 12. Learn more at FOXNation.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Entrepreneur Penny Barber (AKA Penelope Barber) is a woman who wears many hats, from producer/director, performer, storyteller/filmmaker to author and beyond. She's known for playing the busty, glasses-wearing Taboo MILF who slings verbal humiliation & Kinky Mommy Dom. In her 10+ years in the industry, Penny has made countless clips, authored two books on age play, and shot with various independent clip producers. She's also worked with Deeper, Brazzers, Blacked, MILFY, Blacked Raw, Girlsway, Pure Taboo, AllHerLuv, Missa X, Sweet Femdom, Team Skeet, MYLF.com, Sweetheart Video, Family Sinners, Transsensual, Transfixed, Kink.com, Evolved Fights, & more. In January 2022, she was crowned MYLF of the Month (aka MOM) by MYLF.com. Penny scored the Hustler cover, 10-page feature, an exclusive interview in the April 2024 issue, and the cover and multi-page layout in the January 2023 issue of Kink Queens. She's also been interviewed by mainstream media outlets like Vice and The Daily Beast. She's already won five impressive awards for MILF Performer of the Year from the AVN Awards, MILF Performer of the Year from the XRCOs, Best Sex Scene – All-Girl from the XBIZ Awards, Best MILF Clip Artist from the XBIZ Cam Awards, and Best Scene in the Fleshbot Awards. Penny has also scored multiple noms for MILF Performer of the Year, Clip Artist of the Year, Best Acting - Supporting and for her scene work from the XBIZ Awards, Hottest MILF, Sexiest MILF, and her scene work from the AVN Awards, Top MILF Performer from the Pornhub Awards, Best Bi Sex Scene from the GayVNs, Top MILF Performer from the Pornhub Awards, MILF Performer of the Year from the XCritic Awards, Most Popular Fetish Star and MILF Performer of the Year from the Urban X Awards, Best Clip Performer of the Year and her scene work from the Fleshbot Awards, Favorite Domme from the AVN Awards, and Girl-Girl Scene of the Year from the Inked Awards. Stay in the know about everything in her world by following her Twitter/X @pamperedpenny and TikTok @misspennybarber. Support her art by subscribing to her official site tabooview.com, buying her clips at Clips4Sale clips4sale.com/studio/18369/miss-penny-barber and clips4sale.com/studio/11315/pampered-penny and ManyVids manyvids.com/Profile/147843/Penny-Barber/Store/Videos, as well as subscribing to her OnlyFans at onlyfans.com/pamperedpenny. “Like” her Pornhub videos pornhub.com/pornstar/penny-barber. Check out her mainstream and Indie projects at pennybarberfilms.com. This episode is brought to you by Olipop, a new healthy brand of soda. Go to https://drinkolipop.com/ and use code Marcela15 at checkout to get 15% off your first order. This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Shopify can help you take your business to the next level. Click HERE to set up your Shopify shop today and watch your business soar! This episode is brought to you by BranditScan, the best defense you have against social media fraud. Click HERE to get started with BranditScan today and get your first month for free. There is no better service to protect your social media accounts and your name and likeness. This episode is brought to you by Playboy. Click HERE to get a membership today and unlock a premium Playboy experience like no other. This episode is brought to you by Skillshare. Click HERE to start exploring all the courses Skillshare has to offer, from drawing and music, to graphic design and marketing, start expanding your knowledge today. This episode is brought to you by Fiverr. Click HERE to start hiring professionals to help you in various areas and take your business to the next level. This episode is brought to you by PodMatch. Click HERE to bring your podcasting journey to the next level by getting set up with guests to book matched directly for you!  Merch & More Get our podcast merch HERE Check out Marcela's Amazon Shop HERE Subscriptions Subscribe to Marcela's Patreon HERE Subscribe to Marcela's Only Fans  VIP Membership HERE Free Membership HERE

Multi-award-winning, petite green-eyed, stunning adult star, webcam model, musician, and influencer Brittney Kade is the best of both worlds with her big blonde hair, lips, boobs, and cock and balls. The self-described “bimbo plastic Barbie” is a head-turner everywhere she goes and one of the most in-demand trans performers. Brittany has worked with all the top-shelf adult studios, including Brazzers, Evil Angel, Gender X, Digital Playground, Trans Angels, Adult Time, Transfixed, Transsensual, Grooby,Devil's Film, Trans Reality Lovers, and VR Bangers, appearing on over two dozen DVD covers and scoring her own showcase from Trans Angels.   The accolades haven't stopped since she started in adult over two years ago. She's won Best Trans Newcomer from the AVN Awards, Best Sex Scene – Trans from XBIZ Awards, Best New Star and Best Sex Scene Couples from the Fleshbot Awards, Trans Performer of the Year from the Urban X Awards, and Model of the Year, Best New Face, GenderX Films Model of the Year, and Best Threesome/Moresome Scene from the TEAs, and scored countless nominations from AVN, XBIZ, Fleshbot, XBIZ Creators Awards, and TEAs. Brittany has graced the pages of Playboy Mexico and been spotlighted by the Daily Mail. She's also had mainstream success appearing in music videos for Case Iron, Bad Ass Stripper, and Jane's World featuring Brittney Bigger and was on the reality show "Hooked on the Look" three times.   When Brittney's not on set, you'll find her out dancing somewhere and reliving her go-go dancer days, in the studio recording her singing, working out at the gym to get her incredible figure, and advocating against bullying and transphobia in the media. Keep up with everything in her universe by following her on Twitter/X at @bdollbrittney, IG and TikTok @brittneykadexo, Threads @brittneykadexo, and Premium Snap @brittney_kade. Subscribe to her OnlyFans onlyfans.com/barbiedollbrittney to indulge in her most exclusive content, sext with her, order customs, and more. Sign up for Streamate and stack your tokens to be ready for her legendary live shows streamate.com/cam/Barbiedollbrittney?AFNO=1-0-642544-330156&UHNSMTY=221. And make sure to subscribe to her Pornhub pornhub.com/pornstar/brittney-kade for free and find out why she has 21 million video views and over 13k subscribers. This episode is brought to you by Olipop, a new healthy brand of soda. Go to https://drinkolipop.com/ and use code Marcela15 at checkout to get 15% off your first order. This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Shopify can help you take your business to the next level. Click HERE to set up your Shopify shop today and watch your business soar! This episode is brought to you by BranditScan, the best defense you have against social media fraud. Click HERE to get started with BranditScan today and get your first month for free. There is no better service to protect your social media accounts and your name and likeness. This episode is brought to you by Playboy. Click HERE to get a membership today and unlock a premium Playboy experience like no other. This episode is brought to you by Skillshare. Click HERE to start exploring all the courses Skillshare has to offer, from drawing and music, to graphic design and marketing, start expanding your knowledge today. This episode is brought to you by Fiverr. Click HERE to start hiring professionals to help you in various areas and take your business to the next level. This episode is brought to you by PodMatch. Click HERE to bring your podcasting journey to the next level by getting set up with guests to book matched directly for you!  Merch & More Get our podcast merch HERE Check out Marcela's Amazon Shop HERE Subscriptions Subscribe to Marcela's Patreon HERE Subscribe to Marcela's Only Fans  VIP Membership HERE Free Membership HERE  

Clinic Nurse explains heterosexuality to sperm recipient.By thomas_dean. Subscribe & listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I was busy in the morning playing the warden, releasing the bulls, the male donors, from the chastity shield and inspecting their genitalia. Unfortunately, word spreads quickly in the clinic. The bulls chided me about my prospective transfer to the female section. "Afraid of dealing with real men," upbraided one bull. His teasing brought a round of a hearty laughter."I'll return the compliment," I retorted, "in this locker, I wear the crown. Under lock and key, I keep your implement. It is I who frees you from peeing sitting down." Later, descending into the subsurface level, I found myself walking with a group of bulls, phallus dangling free, headed to the gym. One, a Mr.Tim Bogen, a relative newcomer, pulled me aside.Worry etched on his face, Bogen requested permission to pose a question. "What would you think if your husband registered here as a bull?"I pondered for a second. "I'd sleep more nights through, wake up fresh still in my PJs more often and get more cuddling time. My eh—partner would learn the use of his tongue. I might like some cunnilingus, now and then. How does your partner feel about your role here?""She came here on one of the partners' days when they allow the bulls to eh -" The bull hesitated."Screw," I suggested."Kind-of," Bogen spoke hesitantly, "Eh—Interaction is subject to strict supervision. Females are protected, like prized animals, from unplanned insemination," the Bogen grimaced, "Bulls must use a sperm collection condom.""I guess Dr. Velour has an exclusive output contract with her bulls," I surmised."The clinic starts off females in milk extraction," the bull recounted."I'm sure it's just an experiment to see if the exercise of the nipples will fool the body into producing milk," I assured Bogen. "Participants, mostly college girls picking up a quick buck, are paid to have their nipples exercised. What's the worry? You are permitted to work her nips at home. It can lead to renewal, a new beginning of tender moments and bonding.""With me in chastity?" questioned Bogen."With you in chastity," I replied in a comforting voice, "the exercise might increase sexual tension and spur sperm production.""But where does that lead to—for her?" Bogen wondered, "Titty tugging is just a beginning. Each step makes the next step easier. Taking money to have her tits pulled can become selling her body for milk production and then getting knocked-up for surrogacy.""You really starting to worry about a concern that has yet to present itself. Perhaps, you should explore your feelings with Dr. Velour and your partner," I spoke with an encouraging voice, "I'm just a Nursing Assistant in training, not qualified to counsel you and your partner."At the foot of the ramp, I promised to raise his concerns with Dr. Velour. Entering the small theatre next to Dr. Velour's office, I found myself alone with Dr. Velour, now in her freshly pressed pleated dark skit with heels and white lab jacket over a sweater. The other nursing assistant trainees had not arrived."They'll be down," Dr. Velour informed me, "in a few minutes; Pat is exercising her nipples; Cassie needed to take a shower after working up a sweat in the gym; Beth is expressing milk. They'll be down after a shower."Apprised of the Bogen's concerns, Dr. Velour congratulated me, "you did right by referring the bull to me for guidance." With a hand on my shoulder, Dr. Velour asked, "What do you think makes a good Surrogate?""Physically fit enough to carry a baby to term, ovulating, able to conceive," I replied."Physical capability is important. Most women are, but what should I look for in a young woman who wants to be a surrogate?" Dr. Velour inquired."A motivated person," I replied."Indeed, motivations. That's what I look for," Dr. Velour exclaimed, "What I look for in a surrogate starting out is the antithesis of a good mother. First, she's less interested in bringing life into the world than securing an advantage for herself, an objective, material purpose, an expensive house, a limited-edition car, a dream vacation, something beyond their means that a woman might be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for, giving up a child. Second, it is helpful, that a woman be a bit of an exhibitionist, one who enjoys being the center of attraction, the star of the show.""I don't mean to inquire into your personal affairs..." I started."But you've heard that I financed my medical education by playing surrogate, three times," Dr. Velour chuckled. "I came away in good condition, don't you think?  No scars, genitalia intact, abdomen uncut." With a laugh, Dr. Velour reminisced, "medical people are so self-centered that no one noticed I was pregnant—every year.""You were not the center of attention?" I was stunned."A couple years later, I went to a reunion," Dr. Velour recalled, "an alum approached me... `Weren't you the girl who skipped graduation because you were pregnant in the last year and delivered? What did you end up having?'" Dr. Velour smiled as she reflected, "`Money to pay the tuition,' was my response.""Then, you were not the center of attention?" I was confused."Most women feel they are or should be as their baby balloons out," Dr. Velour explained, "Sometimes a husband can be jealous." With a reassuring back rub, Dr. Velour promised, "I'll call the bull in, for reassurance."At that Cassie the gymnast entered in scrubs. The sleeves were cut off to reveal her biceps. Following her were Pat, topless big breasts bouncing, and Beth also topless with pads covering her nipples. "Sorry, Dr. Velour," hands cupped in front of her breasts, Beth apologized, "I've been expressing. I need to sop up the drip."I was somewhat surprised to see both ladies enter in yellow shorts and slippers, displaying their breasts, Beth boldly, Pat looking around nervously gauging our reaction."Let's start with Pat," Dr. Velour began, "But first I begin with an explanation, not an apology. There are no apologies in medicine we're always right." Dr. Velour looked from face to face. Her remarks drew some giggling and a few chuckles."In our last session, we had Amy Warbler get dressed in order to come down here to strip behind the privacy screen. The purpose of requiring a patient to disrobe is control. Beth," Dr. Velour called on the surrogate, "could you explain how our heifers enter to express milk?""It's an assembly line. Heifers report, disrobe," Beth outlined the procedure, "shower, line up for examination, handed a pair of yellow shorts and slippers, assigned a booth for milking.""Human breasts are a secondary sex characteristic, not a sexual organ," Dr. Velour lectured, "They are designed for two purposes: to attract a mate and to produce milk for the sustenance of an infant."Velour called Pat to center stage, "Lets start. The areola, the ring around the mammary papilla, the nipple," Dr. Velour ran the pad of her index finger around Pat's areola, "of a blond, like Pat, is usually a subdued off-white." Dr. Velour looked to Beth. "Under those pads, a brunette, or any other dark-haired woman like Beth should have darker, more prominent areolas."Beth looked with a smirk on while Pat turned her head away as Dr. Velour's hands massaged Pat's breasts. "The Female Breasts," Dr. Velour taught, "infused with network of nerves, spread out widely, are extremely sensitive to physical contact." Placing her hands under Pat's breasts as if weighing them in the palm of her hands, Dr. Velour asked whether Pat suffered any neck or back pain from the weight of her breasts.Rolling Pat's nipples between thumb and index fingers, Dr. Velour lectured, "In bringing down the milk, the heifers in the experimental program start with manual manipulation of the nipples. Unlike milking a cow, by simply squeezing the bossie's teat from the top to the bottom, manual manipulation of human breasts must take a subtle, gentler form of palpating or massaging the nipples to simulate suckling an infant."Ordered to drop to the ground, Pat presented on all fours. Dr. Velour squatted in front of Pat, "Taking the nipples between thumb and index finger," Dr. Velour discoursed, "gently tug one then the other. The subject will after she gets used to the position become quite stimulated." Rising and assisting Pat to her feet. "Try this at home with your partner, but there is another way."Turning to Beth, Dr. Velour called for comments. "Sometimes, direct oral stimulation, properly done, mouth covering the tit," Beth explained, "will be more effective in bringing down the milk.""More efficacious as well as more affectionate," Dr. Velour smiled before she invited Beth to demonstrate. "Beth, you have the most experience," Dr. Velour urged Beth on, "show us how direct oral stimulation is done."Supporting Pat's breasts with the palm of her hand, Beth, with a smile, jiggled Pat's breasts. "Nice jugs," Beth smiled. Beth locked eyes with Pat. Pat's hands tentatively reached out to clutch Beth's shoulders.As Beth craned her head to lick Pat's left nipple, Pat placed her right hand on Beth's head to hold Pat close. Beth slobbered her tongue around Beth's left nipple. Capturing Pat's nipple in the mouth, Beth started suckling.Turning to Cassie and me, Dr. Velour orated as if she were lecturing a theatre full of students, "Suckling creates a vacuum instrumental in bringing down milk. The breast pumps employed in the clinic operate on the same principal. The pump captures the whole nipple and creates a vacuum replicating a mouth suckling." With a smile, Dr. Velour exclaimed, "The body is a marvelous machine!"In front of us, the suckling became louder and more intense as Pat's left hand reached around Beth to clutch Beth in a hug. Beth's hands falling on Pat's hips, yanked Pat's yellow shorts off. The shorts fell to the floor, Pat kicked them off. The two tumbled to the platform of the stage."Breast feeding is a pleasurable experience," Dr. Velour observed, "pre-natal or pre-adoptive practice can reinforce the pair bond which many believe essential to child rearing. The human body is a well oiled machine. Unfortunately, there is no turn-off switch," Dr. Velour chuckled. "We can allow these two go orgasmic for the moment."With the sound of an impending orgasm echoing in the background, Dr. Velour turned from Cassie to me. "One of our bulls has expressed concern over his wife," Dr. Velour explained the problem I had raised, "After his wife came on a couple's day, she decided to join our programme as a Heifer to stimulate her breasts to induce lactation."Cassie chirped, "She wants to be a Moo-Cow and he's worried. I don't believe it""That's the problem," Dr. Velour observed. "It is possible that the husband might fear his role as the center of attention in the relationship is endangered by competition from his wife. Amy, do you have any suggestions?"My attention was riveted on the tussling in the background. I watched Beth's lips slip away from suckling Pat's left breast, planting kisses down Pat's abdomen with a smack. When Beth reached Pat's mound, I heard Pat emit giggling sighs of delight. Pat's legs wrapped around Beth's neck; sucking sounds became louder as the grasp of Pat's legs drew Beth in deeper.Prompted by Dr. Velour to advance a solution for the bull's problem, I saw the answer in the scene unfolding before me. Still watching Beth and Pat in the throes of orgasm, I proposed, "Meet the couples together. Allow the bull to suckle the heifer, suggesting scientific standards require observation for monitoring the technique." Looking at Beth and Patty locked in an embrace on the floor, I added, "that way both will share center stage.""Hmm." Dr. Velour opined, "just let their bodies' wiring take over."In front of us, Beth and Pat shook with successive waves of orgasm. Transfixed by the spectacle on stage, I, sandwiched between the firm body of Dr. Velour and muscle-bound Cassie, felt overheated. "Stimulating, isn't it?' Dr. Velour threw an arm over my shoulder to whisper in my ear."If I were still in school," Looking toward Dr. Velour with a sheepish smile, "I'd skip school this afternoon, find Jerry and fuck myself blind."Cassie laughed. Dr. Velour with an enigmatic half-smile changed my assignment for the day to shower girl in the heifers' shower. "Keep you away from temptation. As you know I have an exclusive on all the Bull's spermatic secretions."The rest of the day passed routinely for a fertility clinic. I spent the afternoon as towel girl in the heifer's section. At the end of the workday, I was approached by Dr. Velour to share a spigot in the employee's shower. Asked for my reaction to working with women, I reflected, "Different things are dangled in your face; the saucy comments and suggestions are subtler; the objective is the same: a cheap jives rather than cheap thrill, but no requests for nipple stimulation, manipulation, suckling, or massages.""How disappointing!" Dr. Velour sounded sympathetic. Turning, Dr. Velour requested I soap her back. Starting with her shoulders I spread the foamy liquid on her shoulders, massaging her neck, lathering her arm pits when she spread her arms out. Holding her head back to look up at the ceiling, Dr. Velour opened her mouth and held out her tongue to catch the gentle beads of water falling on her when I passed the sudsy froth along the sides of her breasts.As I rubbed the bubbly mass down her spine, Dr. Velour, eyes shuttered, demanded, "lower, lower, work out the kinks of a long day." The droplets of soap sparkled as I applied the creamy solution and kneaded the firm, muscular half-moons of her butt.I looked around. Everyone had left me with Dr. Velour alone.Splaying her legs and bending over, Dr. Velour, exceptionally agile, reached for the floor with her hands. Presenting her crack invited an intimate massage. I had seconds to think of a diplomatic solution to keep contact impersonal. I leaned into Dr. Velour teasing her back with my nipples and excused myself for a second in an apologetic tone, "I need to leave you for a second to reach for surgical gloves. Don't go away."Dr. Velour muttered with an undertone of disappointment, "If you must."Locating surgical gloves, I stepped into the Shower girl's bottoms. Topless, I reasoned, ought to be enough stimulation. Returning to Dr. Velour, I first squeezed the bubbles out of a washcloth between those firm half-moons. Then I worked the effervescent fluid into her crack, massaging her sphincter with the pad of my thumb, entering her warm vagina with my index, middle and fore fingers.She moaned as her orgasm overtook her. Though I had intended to keep the contact impersonal, the electric charge of her orgasmic contractions jumped from her body to mine. A flush branched out from the cheeks of my face to my chest. My nipples went erect. I started to laugh at myself for donning bikini bottoms. I felt the urge to rip them off and rub my vagina into her muscular legs. I leaned into her back. We swayed together as the ripples of orgasm shot through our bodies.Suddenly, with a jerk, Dr. Velour pushed me off and stood on her feet. Casting a scurrilous glance at the bikini bottoms clinging to my ankles, Dr. Velour cautioned me, "Kick those things off before you trip."Hands on her hips, Dr. Velour congratulated me, "Not bad! Remind me to give your class some lessons in massage." Staring through me dispassionately, she observed, "It may come in handy." Looking around the empty room, Dr. Velour told me to rinse off. "The night crew will be reporting in soon to service the bulls who come in for a shower after work."Before the heat of our encounter faded away, Dr. Velour walked down the catwalk toward her private changing room. Watching her retreat down the walk of shame, I wondered what had I begun? I had wanted to ensure that contact would be impersonal. Dr. Velour intended nothing different. I felt I betrayed myself husband, but most of all I had betrayed poor Jerry.

Fertility clinic nurse explores magic of sex play in study.By thomas_dean. Subscribe & listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 4: Fun & Games People Play.My tall and muscular husband Jerry, pleasantly bemused, encouraged my studies and offered his body for practice."First, I wash my hands and introduce myself," I went through my checklist, "Good morning Mr.Warbler. I'm Nursing Assistant Amy Warbler. After I release you from chastity, I'm going to conduct a testicular exam, a complete physical inspection of the genitalia, the penis, scrotum, and testicles.""Oh, please do," said Jerry with a smile.I moved his chin to the right and ordered Jerry to put his hands on his head.Passing my written and practical test, with Jerry's help, I found myself in a somewhat more staid, professionalized environment. On duty, I was addressed as Miss Warbler. I wore medical scrubs replete with a name tag that identified me as a Nursing Assistant.Co-opting in the trial run-through for the hands-on portion of the exam, Jerry complained that I should borrow surgical scrubs for more realism in my exam. "There's something to the medical accoutrements, the scrubs, the name tag, and the stethoscope that promote cooperation of the subject."With Jerry's size and strength, I needed all the help the prop of an improvised costume could bring to assure his pliancy.To accommodate Jerry's quest for realism, I wore one of his white shirts, backwards, over a loose, billowy pj bottom. I preferred the short sleeve shirt to tease Jerry with a glimpse at my breasts. Jerry's T-Shirt fit loose enough; I only buttoned the top button to make sure the top flowed with my movement. To Jerry's suggestion that, on duty, I wear a bra or a T-shirt under the scrubs, I reminded him that paying customers give tips."Tips for Tits!" Jerry exclaimed. "You must model this exceptional garment for me. Bring a pair home.""To leave at the end of my shift," I replied, "I have to walk naked from a communal shower along a steel mesh parapet for 100 paces. How can I spirit scrubs out of the clinic?"Still, even after elevation to a demi-professional caste, we had to strip, stow our street clothes in a locker, and walk naked along a catwalk about 100 feet to communal showers. Instead of the 4AM race of the cleaning crew to the showers, we leisurely strolled to the showers. One of the women walked with the man, idly chatting. Next to me walked a cherubic brunette Darrie. "Think of it as short for Darling," she told me."Appropriate name," I replied, "for the angel who releases the male donor from the cock block to release the built-up eh—tension.""Angel Darlin', now that would be a nice name," Darrie chuckled, "the guys call the nurse in the locker the Angel of Mercy. We call her the `Warden.'"In our practice for my hands on exam, Jerry expressed interest in experiencing me in the role of the Angel of Mercy."Not ready to recognize me as your warden," I chided Jerry.Perhaps, Jerry suggested as he stood naked in front of me that I should have obtained permission to borrow a chastity belt for that purpose. "The clinic might have allowed issuance of the belt, but not the electronic notebook. You might find a chastity grows on you. Without the release button on the electronic notebook, you'll find the belt is easier to get into than to get out of."Under the spigot next to me, Darrie, looking around the shower, sighed. "You're new. The only problem with working at the Fertility Clinic is," a silly expression appeared on her face, "it grows on you.""Quite an interesting comment," I replied, "about an institution designed to grow eh, people.""The longer you are here," Darrie smiled, "the more you're bound up in it, the harder it is to leave, and the more you find yourself willing to do."Though there were enough spigots in the shower for us to keep a respectful distance from each other, we tended to congregate within arms' reach of each other. "I'm going to help you-just for the first few customers-In the locker-just to show," Darrie proposed, "you how to handle eh, the ropes." We both giggled together before she asked, "Soap up my back, will you be a luv?"Turning her back to me, Darrie waited for me to apply a washcloth from the short hairs of her neck to her shoulder blades down to her butt. "Are you married, luv?" When I acknowledged, she prodded me, "to a guy?" At my nod, she added, "you'd do well as shower girl, but today you play warden, unlock them on the way in and lock them tight on the way out."At the clothing counter, Darrie recommended that I wear a T-Shirt under the scrubs, "It being your first time, you might not want guys gaping at your swinging tits.""Tits bring Tips," I quipped.In my practice with Jerry, I went through the protocol: "Second, once the subject has disrobed, the subject should present naked standing in front of you. Some prefer to perform the examination kneeling to the side of the patient. Most examiners prefer to stand to conduct an initial appraisal of the subject's general condition.""Hands on your head, Mr.Warbler, if you please, legs apart," I ordered in a cheerful voice."Why do you need to keep an eye on my hands?" Jerry asked. "Does a 90 lb woman facing fear losing control over a naked, sex crazed man recently sprung from chastity?""Interesting choice of words," I replied.When Darrie and I peeked in the male donor's locker, three or four men completely undressed were milling about inside. Darrie pointing out a fair skinned nervous sort criss-crossing his chest with his arms, "Probably, the new guy, Mr.Flesher," she surmised.Naked except for an inverted triangular shaped dome covering their crotches, the men awaited release. Standing at the entrance the male donor's locker, Darrie whispered, "Unexpected things," an evil smile peered on her lips, "especially with new donors can happen when the projectile is unleashed. Never stand directly in the path of an eruption."We both giggled when I quipped, "Interesting concept."Entering the male donor's locker, Darrie barked, "Line up," Darrie pointed to a line down the middle of the room, "Hands on your heads, the one on top of your head you think with, if you expect your schlong to swing."There were some catcalls from the guys lining up. One called out, "Wear a bra if you're afraid I'll cop a feel.""While I keep your schlong locked," Darrie shot back, "fondling my tits in a moment of joy will bring your cock quite a shock.""You just want to smell my pits," screeched another."Just to check, forsooth," Darrie quipped, "underarms remain smooth and clean and not hirsute." Darrie leaned over to give me advice at an audible whisper, "it's good to keep chappies happy by wiggling your tush and acting a little sassy.""Consider this a eh, dress rehearsal. You're suitably naked and I'm in an improvised nurse's costume," I commenced a test-run of the examination. As Jerry stood hands over his head, I announced the next step, "Third," pausing to seize his penis for examination, I continued, "thoroughly inspect the penis frontal and dorsal,-eh all sides for lumps, swellings, ulcers or scars."At my touch, I could feel Jerry's penis begin to pulsate and gel from flaccid to rubbery. I noticed Jerry's lips pursing. I heard my heart pounding in my chest. Breathlessly, in a dreamy voice combining technical book learning with pillow talk, I gushed, "think of the penis as engineering miracle of erectional hydraulics, a natural pump capable of accomplishing a surge of blood flow within seconds. When the penis swells with blood, the pelvic floor muscles launch the penis eh, into ecstasy."Ecstasy? I questioned myself. That's contrary to protocol which impersonalized intimate contact. Putting aside the delicacy of social conventions, I, focusing on the objective, must conduct procedures by the book step-by-step. The heart may beat faster, the temperature may rise, but the purpose of intimate contact is professional. "Physical contact with a female nurse during a delicate examination can produce a natural reaction in a male patient," I reassured Jerry."Priming the pump triggers the launch. I hope so," Jerry replied.Announcing as we swept into the locker room, "Gentlemen prepare to launch your rockets, 10-9 -8-7 ...," Darrie pushed a button on her notepad. The clang of the plastic covers falling to the ground followed. While I collected the fallen shields, Darry declared, "Fun time! Examination of the genitalia."When she reached Mr.Flesher who managed to conceal himself at the end of the line, he was shaking; his fair skin was burnished red. In a soothing voice, Darry assured Flesher, "There's no shame in a natural reaction to physical contact with a female during a genital examination."Hushing the other men, Darrie sent them into the shower, noting, "Go take care of what you came here to do."As the other men filtered out into the shower, Darrie called me over. "Mr.Flesher," she addressed him, maintaining eye contact, "Let me introduce Amy Warbler, our new Nursing Assistant. I need to report to Dr. Velour our boss that Nurse Warbler is fully capable of conducting exams on her own. Can you help me teach our Nurse Warbler the art of an intimate examination? It'll only take a sec. Then you can get hitched to the hitching post for release. That's what you came here for, right?"In practicing with Jerry, I pronounced, "Fourth, inspect the scrotum. Hmm," I interjected, "I get to keep hold of your joystick. Moving the penis out of the way, inspect all sides of the scrotum. Lift the scrotum to check its underside."In the locker, Darrie thanked Mr.Flesher, "Good! My examination will only take a couple more minutes before you're on your way to the hitching post, release and ecstasy."In my dry run with Jerry, I reached the Fifth stage "palpating," I interjected, "that's an inflated medical term for examining by touch, the testicles.""Inflated? That's an interesting word. Sounds like fun," Jerry's laughter went into the falsetto range when I pinched a testicle."With my thumbs and index fingers," I explained, "I roll the testes between the fingers to detect potential abnormalities. Feel along the duct work, the epididymis tube and the duct deferens which deliver the sperm for ejaculation.""Go easy," Jerry's voice ventured into the falsetto range."That wasn't so bad. Your examination is over," I advised Jerry, "You're free to have fun. Thank you for being such a good boy," I patted his tush, "for behaving yourself and cooperating." I turned my back on Jerry to take off my gloves and drop them in the bathroom."Free!" Jerry exclaimed. When I felt his hands gripping me. Lifted off my feet, I felt the pj bottoms slide away. Bent at the waist, I heard Jerry yell "I don't have to be good, no more, but it will be good."In the locker, Darrie concluded Flesher's examination. "Not so bad, was it? You passed your exam with flying colors," Darrie counselled Mr. Flesher, "You're dangling free. Go have fun with it!" As Flesher walked away, Dearie whispered, "never turn your back on a released donor."At home, Jerry exclaimed, "Time for fun." A wild expression cropped on his face. "The pump's been primed, the torrents will flow." I felt the warmth of his body nestle between the half-moons of my ass while his nimble fingers separated my vaginal lips. Then he hesitated."Go ahead. Fuck me." I ordered Jerry. Tease, denial and release, I wondered as I gasped when Jerry penetrated, was that the magic?Chapter 5: Nature of the AttractionIn my senior year in college, I worked several hours in the early morning before classes in a fertility clinic. It was part of my internship toward my degree in Industrial Psychology. In my rotation as a student intern in the clinic, I, through study and practical training, had earned a promotion out of maintenance into the Nursing Department as an assistant.Smart in her white lab coat and dark dress, Dr. Velour introduced the study to three nursing assistant candidates gathered in her office."We start our study with the male body because it is less complex, designed for an important, but momentary role in reproduction," Dr. Velour's word brought a ripple of giggling to the motley group of prospective nursing assistants."This is a business," Dr. Velour expounded, "We have to recruit livestock, groom their bodies, generate interest in purchasers, draw and refine the product and sell it. Initially, our question in dealing with the men, is what makes a man want to `bind his loins' in a cock-blocker, hitch his penis to a machine and discharge his seed into a hitching post? The answer at least initially is curiosity."I chuckled. Ever since I obtained this internship, my husband Jerry has beseeched me to sneak him in to test his equipment. Didn't I put out enough? I lay crunched up like a pretzel, hands bound behind my back with my bra, complaints squelched with panties in my mouth too often to think differently.It was hard to think of Jerry tied docilely to a hitching post at the Clinic to be jerked off. For foreplay, Jerry preferred wrestling me to the ground. Taken by surprise, forced face down, with Jerry strong hands tugging at the waistband of my jeans, I'd spur Jerry on by pleading, "Don't rip my clothes, Jerry. I don't get paid till next week."Was Jerry jealous or afraid my job involved physical contact with other men? No, Jerry was so curious so much so he wanted me to reenact the protocols in sperm extraction."You come to the clinic through different pathways, bringing different experiences to the study. Dr. Velour looked from student to student, "we have Amy, here, a student in Industrial Psychology at the local college. Perhaps with Amy's background in Industrial Psychology, she will develop a clearer idea the motivation of the persons involved in the people involved in the donation process. Amy?""My ugh-experience tells me curiosity is a good hypothesis," I replied. The room filled with chuckling, "Men are always looking for a new spot to anchor their spar in."When the laughter subsided, Dr. Velour pointed out a girl with muscular forearms and legs, "Next, we have Cassie. She's a gymnast who has been working in the gym; Pat," Dr. Velour pointed out a college girl like me, "a participant in our experiment in inducing the mammary glands to produce milk; and Beth," Dr. Velour pointed to a woman in her mid-thirties, "a surrogate.""Regardless of sex, however," Dr. Velour continued, "the brain is the largest sex organ. Oh, the body reacts to physical stimulation and once aroused can control the mind, but the mind creates the expectations in given situations.""Thus, because male body's function in reproduction is limited," Dr. Velour ex

A college senior applies for internship & tours state of the art Fertility Clinic.By thomas_dean. Subscribe & listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The Western Fertility Clinic:Chapter 1: The Intern.Moving around the examination room naked to keep from shivering, I studied the anatomical illustrations on the wall. "Ms. Warbler," Nurse Rhonda Chafer, a tall, broad shouldered woman in scrubs filled the doorway, "Doctor, will be with you presently." When I pointed to the bundle of clothes in her hands, she assured me, "your clothes will be returned at the end of your tour of the facility."Clothes removed for a perfunctory examination by the nurse, I now awaited Dr. Velour, the operator of a fertility clinic. I had applied for an internship to complete coursework for my degree in Industrial Psychology.The hardboiled female nurse; had her arms cradling the bundle of my street clothing. She apologized for leaving me, "in an unclothed condition." She took a breath. "Ms. Warbler, unfortunately, we're short on those disposable hospital gowns at the moment. They're reserved for patients. Try to make yourself," she paused with as smirk, "as comfortable as possible."I chuckled and replied; "I was sent here as a prospective intern for my college research paper in Industrial Psychology and end up politely plucked of my plumage and palpitating," I made light of my situation.Once Nurse Chafer left the room, I studied the images on the wall which depicted a naked blond woman, smiling as she rubbed her belly through various stages of pregnancy designed to demonstrate the expanding belly and burgeoning breasts.Instinctively, I turned around. A short woman, youngish for a doctor, Eda Velour, smiling pleasantly, arms crossed over her lab coat, stood silently by, observing me. "That's what we do here. We make women who can't or won't manage it the natural way for some reason or another, pregnant. Their reasons would make a fascinating study for your project. Wouldn't it?"In my initial interview with Dr. Velour before the physical, I had been advised, "The clinic has certain privacy and proprietary concerns," Dr. Velour aggressively leaned forward to forcefully assert, "primarily to protect our clientele, but also to protect the business. Virile men, mostly young, college age, many just boys your age; possibly you've seen them about the campus, come here to donate sperm; nubile women come here to be impregnated. You would have to sign a confidentiality agreement, like every employee. In your case, you must surrender editorial control over the contents of your paper."Beginning her examination, Dr. Velour read from her electronic notebook. "Amy Warbler, age 22, Female, Heterosexual, in a relationship, sex 3 or 4 times a week," Dr. Velour looked up, paused to shoot me an evil smile and snickered, "lucky girl. Birth control, preferred position woman on top," the Doctor raised her penciled-in eyebrows noting, "position resolved by wrestling? You may take advantage of our gymnasium to limber up."Gymnasium? I wondered. Where does Dr. Velour hide it? From the street, the clinic appeared to be located in a simple store front."Yes," Dr. Velour commented, "A hearty work out would do you good before you engage in your next round of the battle of the sexes with your partner.""Good exercise, indeed!" I declared. The enthusiasm of my response drew a delayed reaction of momentary shock and amusement when I added, "Jerry likes a stiff challenge.""You're here to study Industrial Psychology up close in a people intensive industry," Dr. Velour, belatedly reacting to my double  entendre with a strained smile, noted."Like you said," I replied with a chuckle, "this business produces people. The women pay to get pregnant. Understanding their motivations could be an important factor in recruiting new business.""Indeed," Dr. Velour agreed. "Can I ask what interested you in performing your internship requirement through the Western Fertility Clinic?""Your Facility," I advised her, "is strategically located between my off-campus apartment and the campus, and within walking distance of both.""Indeed, the role of convenience in making choices, even in the weighty matters of life, boils down to the old saw: location, location, location." Dr. Velour shot me a pleasant smile. "Ok, Nurse Chafer took all the lab work and took your vitals," Dr. Velour, looking down at her electronic notepad, reminded me, "Now, let's get to work. My style of internal examination is different from those you might have experienced." After a pause, Dr. Velour ordered, "Turn around, feet apart, bend at the waist. Nurse lubricated your anal cavity to take a rectal temperature. Just to make things go smoothly," Dr. Velour, a glistening smile sprouting, paused, "I'm going to do it again."I sighed as I steeled myself to send my mind somewhere else. "Despite powerful hands," I, turning my back to the Doctor, recounted, "Nurse Chafer administered a gentle massage with considerable patience." I took a deep breath as my bare feet were gently pushed further apart by a gentle nudge from Dr. Velour's sneakers.I grunted as Dr. Velour announced that "I am conducting a bimanual internal examination of the anal and vaginal cavities." Reflexively, I gasped as I bucked up against her penetrating thumb and fingers."I'm going to," Dr. Velour, leaning over me, implanting her breasts into my back, advised, "palpate your lower abdomen for signs of ovarian, renal or intestinal abnormalities."Hmm, my mind brought me to rolling on the floor with Jerry. When emerging on top, Jerry held me face down for doggy style penetration. Jerry's hands would reach across my belly. "I'm feeling for my cock," he'd whisper, "to jerk myself off inside you."Much like Jerry making love, Dr. Velour, examining me, sent nimble fingers across my pubis. Both hands met inside me long enough to vigorously tease my clit. My breathing became rapid. I ground my ass against her intruding fingers while I softly murmured, "fuck me."I tended to me much louder while I pumped Jerry for his man sap."There," Dr. Velour retracted her fingers slowly softly caressing my clit and vaginal lips on the way out, out, "that didn't hurt a bit. If you're ready for your tour, I'll have the nurse escort you to the employee showers.""Clothes?" I reminded Dr. Velour by holding my hands away from my hips to display my bare body.She promised that "Nurse should see to clothing," I waited for what seemed to be an eternity until the nurse tapped on the door and entered."Ready?" When I requested my clothing, Nurse Chafer touched her notebook and a hidden door behind one of the anatomical charts opened. Though a passageway, we found ourselves upon a steel grated catwalk illuminated by light bulbs dangling from a wire. "First showers," the nurse, pointing to the catwalk, ordered, "shall we go?" Noting my surprise, the nurse added, "Back stage."I sighed when my bare feet touched the steel grid. The nurse chuckling, pointing to either end of the building, "This is called the walk of shame. It connects the lockers with the showers. The fertility clinic is a sterile environment. Employees shower with an antibacterial soap before and after work and in migrating between different zones."Biting my lip, I wondered what had propelled my bare feet forward onto the cold steel grid of the catwalk? Momentarily pausing to look over the rail, I was shocked to see immediately below me the overhead lighting structure for a swimming pool and gym. I looked at my escort in confusion. The clinic's frontage on Western Avenue gave no clue of such an extensive underground operation. Was this an athletic club or a fertility clinic?Nurse Chafer, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder and peering over the rail, noted, "one of the perks offered to the sperm donors, free gymnasium. Some employees use it in their free time. Males exercise with an athletic supporter; swim nude. Females are issued a two-piece.""And genetic male employees who identify as female," I prodded. "Must trans-men wear the jock strap in the gym and swim nude?""The issue of trans-men in the gym has yet to arise," came the curt reply. "Any second thoughts?" the Nurse asked with an evil grin.I sighed. "Going forward isn't solely a question of having already pliantly complied this far. I need this internship to graduate. The incentive of a paycheck is sufficient to endure," I grimaced, "unusual conditions."A bright light, reflecting off glistening tiled walls, shining at the end of the catwalk, marked the showers. "With pressure from local human rights commission upon all employers to provide equality for trans-men," Nurse Chafer explained as we proceeded to the shower. "We don't provide separate lockers or showers for employees reporting in. New employees can be eh; uneasy in the beginning. It wears off."Chuckling at her "interesting choice of words," I suggested, "Guys standing there, drooling at girls; like the silliness in junior high school gym classes.""Some older employees have had more difficulty adjusting," Nurse Chafer positioned me under a spigot, instructing "Stand there." Moving out of the way, the nurse added, "but in this business, we're looking at naked males getting jerked off by a machine and nude females getting eh, stimulated eh, pre-insemination; all day long. Otherwise," the nurse added as soapy water rained down on me, "functional nudity for the coed shower seems ordinary enough."As I toweled off, the nurse handed me a two piece and white athletic socks and sneakers. Holding up top and bottom in front of me and stretching the thong, I remarked, "less than one pass of the shuttle didn't leave much fabric."While I stepped into the thong, the nurse commented, "One size fits all! You'll find the material is very pliable. It expands," she explained while I took a breath to pull the top over my boobs, "to fit most figures."From the employee showers, I was led into the donor's showers where the nurse waived to Alison, a barefoot woman in a skin-tight pastel bikini before we passed down a ramp into the gym. As we passed under the level of the gym's overhead lights, I went blind for a second."You'll get used to it," Nurse Chafer smiled. At the white tiled, gym level we came past three offices. At the first office, the door was closed. The blinds over glass window in the door and the wall were shuttered. The nurse noted, "Dr. Velour's and Dr. Stroker's private office." A smaller office's door was open. "This would be your office. You keep your notes and prepare your paper here. Nothing leaves the building."In the next office, blond-haired Greta, the manager of the gym, rose, muscular thighs flexed, to greet us. "Nurse Chafer, is this our new intern?"Strong arms gripping me, Greta explained, "the gym is a perk for our hearty stallions for a time left unbridled to work off frustration. Employees may workout in their spare time.""Do many employees take advantage of the gym?" I asked."Out of two dozen regular employees," Greta advised, "only two or three, mostly men participate in off duty gymnastic exercise and swimming. What keeps more men on staff away, surprisingly is the nudity. Like patient and donors, to enter the pool, male staff must have body hair depilated. Female patients and employees are welcome but only an occasional woman other than myself or Dr. Velour takes advantage.""Naturally, I suppose. While I'm on the cleaning crew, I suppose I will be working down here, occasionally," I responded."You will be given an hour to record your observations," Greta noted, "and to go over your findings with me or Dr. Velour." Holding her arm out toward the gym, "Shall we tour our state of the art gym?"After a tour of the nicely shined exercise machinery, Greta, taking a few minutes to work dead lifting weights, questioned me, "How much iron do you suppose you can pump?"Transfixed by her powerful deltoids and biceps, I, when prompted, replied, "I never tested myself.""On janitorial staff, you'll have to lift some heavy weights," Greta, spoke without hesitating between reps, "Spend some time working out here. Now, nothing like the pool." Greta stripped off her running shorts and cotton T shirt, revealing a firm body, not an ounce of fat. "Join me," she invited.Nurse Chafer nodded to me to join Greta in the pool. Her glance, searing through the two piece, told me to swim nude. I managed two or three laps. I was standing on the deck covered in a towel shivering with my arms crossed, when Greta triumphantly raised her arms.Leaping out of the pool, Greta did some cartwheels on the deck. Wishing me well with a hug on my project here, Greta assured me, "We'll have some fun together." Palpitating my boobs, Greta whispered, "We'll harden your boobs, firm up that jelly belly and," with a playful whack on the butt, Greta declared, "tighten those muscles of that fleshy derriere!"Back in the shower, rinsing off, I was reminded by Nurse Chafer that in a sterile facility, a shower was required to move between different sections. As I toweled off, I accused Nurse Chafer of "just enjoying watching me naked.""I'm a nurse," Nurse Chafer retorted, "that's my privilege." Throwing me a smock, a thong, loose pantaloons, booties and hood—all a subdued light grey, Chafer noted, "it's a unisex cleaners' uniform."Informed me that the pants were optional, I tossed the pants back. "Jerry and I may wrestle for top position, but still Jerry prefers me to be 100% female. He wears the pants—because I say so."Reflectively, the nurse observed, "Your choice. Employees have a legal right to decide to determine a gender identity.""I've wondered how that works. Suppose a trans-man wants to be impregnated," I, throwing the grey smock over my head, asked, "or a FTM, female-to-male wants to donate sperm?"With a chuckle, the nurse paused to contemplate before formulating her response, "I leave it to the doctors to decide how to deal with the situation in which legal requirements come up against biological impossibility. Perhaps," the nurse's voice turned cheery, "you may play an important role: providing assistance, eh, coming with resolutions, eh, in rummaging through such; er, novel questions."From the employee showers, I was once again in the donor's showers where the nurse waived to Alison, a barefoot woman in that pastel bikini before we passed into male treatment rooms."Generally," the nurse explained, "cleaning in the AM begins here at 5AM. Males are depositing bodily secretions into the treatment rooms from 6AM onward. To prevent spread of disease, each room must be antiseptically cleaned before we open at 6 am and after each use." Escorting me behind the treatment rooms to an observation booth, the nurse suggested, "Let`s, take a peek. Shall we?"A flick of a switch rendered the wall transparent. On the other side of the wall a male was laying face down on a workout bench, muscles tensed, ass burnished red, legs spread across the bench, a darkened face shield enshrouded his head."It's very different from the classical sperm donation clinic," the nurse observed, "Ya know, the places where guys came in to jerk themselves off to pornographic pictures. Here the conditions replicate not only the mechanics of intercourse but also create the warmth of intimacy.""How do you replicate the physical conditions of intercourse?" I asked."The male is comfortably placed, in a sexual position of his choice," Nurse Chafer explained.” Here the male is lying face down; his genitalia is inserted in a sleeve, a thin pouch which is plugged," the nurse lifted her eyebrows and smiled in self-conceit, "into device which simulates the moist warmth and viscosity of a woman's orifice. The machine`s pulsations draw sympathetic responses in the male organs precipitating male orgasm yielding ejaculate.""And the opaque blinder?" I questioned, "aren't men very visual in arousal?""What you call `the blinder' is really a screen which creates a virtual reality either from stock footage or from an original production."

Stay Transfixed Rach Edwards 24.3.24 by Christian Family Church Colac

It was great to welcome back Fraught back onto the podcast. Fans of the band will remember that they were previously named 'Drought'. I was joined by Dave (Guitars) & Podge (Drums) of the experimental death/sludge Dublin metal band. “Transfixed on Dying Light” was released onthe 24th November 2023 via Argonauta Records and immediately received critical acclaim from all corners of the globe. The five piece band that recorded the release are completed by Andy on bass/sludge vocals; along with ex- members Mark on vocals and Garóg on guitars. They are all huge fans of death metal, black metal, doom and sludge so we discussed how they all brought a different element of those influences to the table and weaved it into their own sound and direction. We covered the build up to the release “Transfixed on Dying Light” along with record label changes, gigs and many more interesting topics along with Mark and Garóg leaving. Please 'SUBSCRIBE' to The Metal Cell YouTube channel and share this with your mates if you enjoyed it. Fraught link: https://fraughtband.bandcamp.com/album/transfixed-on-dying-light Songs played: Increments Of Humiliation © Fraught, all rights reserved. Sublimated Misanthropy © Fraught, all rights reserved.

When college students at Asbury University held a 24/7 prayer and worship service last year, photos and stories almost immediately went viral. Tens of thousands of people flooded to the small town of Wilmore, Kentucky, to witness firsthand what has been called a"revival" by some and an "outpouring" by others. The powerful event, teamed with many other spiritual moments of 2023, has sparked questions about what's happening in America when it comes to spirituality. So, what's the real story behind the Asbury Revival? What sparked the stunning moment? On today's show, we sit down with Zach Meerkreebs, a writer and pastor at Asbury. Mr. Meerkreebs was the preacher who delivered the sermon that essentially sparked the nonstop prayer and worship service; he was also front and center, helping organize what followed. Listen to him share the real story surrounding the Asbury Revival. FOLLOW BILLY ON SOCIAL MEDIA:- Follow Billy on Twitter- Follow Billy on Instagram- Follow Billy on Facebook

A Bridge of AdversityA 5-part story By Blind_Justice & Loqui Sordida Ad Me. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.The sky was still dark when they dragged Unami from her hut. A plump midwife, purring quietly, carried her newborn, Kra'ar, away while the hunters herded her up the steep ascent to the ancient temple. Unami was too exhausted from giving birth, too tired to bite and claw, so she let them do as they pleased.Through the great hall they went, empty save for the fire pit in the center and the twisted columns trying to stem the weight of the temple’s crumbling roof, down into a chamber she had never seen before. A singular oil lamp provided scant illumination, barely enough to see the carvings adorning every inch of the walls. Gaping maws, unblinking eyes leveling accusing stares, and half-formed limbs danced along the frieze.She clutched her aching belly and lashed the hunters to either side of her with an imperious stare. “Kra'ar needs me,” she growled. “I must feed my son.”Stone doors on the opposite side of the room opened, the towering slates scratching along the floor with some reluctance. Three elders emerged, their grayed whiskers and blunt snouts hidden behind ornate golden masks, their heads bloated and deformed by feathered headdresses. Long, colorful robes had been wrought around their slumping shoulders and withered groins.“What do you want from me at this hour?” Unami barked, masking her fear with feigned rage. She bared her teeth, a challenge rising in her throat. Her growl echoed off the carved walls. Unami slapped the hunters’ claws away and stood alone, shaking like a defiant, storm-tossed reed.“Silence!” one of the elders barked. The mask he wore was the sharp-beaked Condor, keen eyes and mighty wings. “Do you not grasp the gravity of your situation, whelp?”“Who do you call a whelp, you decrepit fossil?” Unami snarled. “I have just delivered my firstborn! I have seen the jungle! I have-”“You have stolen our sacred treasure and given it to an outsider!” the second elder roared. His mask showed the Serpent, venomous fangs and crushing strength. “Once they realize what can be found here, they will come and demand more and more! First they will bring honeyed words and lies, then they will bring warriors and weapons!”“Ha!” Unami spat. “First they would have to cross the jungle. Don’t you teach that only the strong, only the hunters can brave the hostile wilderness? How many outsiders will perish on the journey? How many of them will be able to even lift a weapon if they even find us? How many will be able to stand against our fierce warriors?”“Insolent child,” the third elder hissed. He wore a skull, the guise of Death Inevitable. “Traditions and rules have a reason. Your reckless actions prove why not every member of the tribe can be a hunter. Strength has to be tempered by wisdom, fury tempered by mercy. Your brash disregard of the rules clearly shows you are nothing more than a foolish whelp still, unfit to walk among the adults!”“I have followed the rules. I came back to give the tribe another hunter. What else do you want from me?”“Kra'ar will be well-fed and taken care of,” Condor proclaimed. “But your penance has only just begun.”“Normally we would bind you in stones and drown you in the swamp, as befits a lowly thief,” Condor said.“But the volcano’s awakening has roused The Sleeper,” Serpent said. “Someone has to placate him. This is a task for a woman. You have been chosen as penance for your transgression.”“What? No. I will go into exile. I will return to Aelric! I want to see the frozen water come from the sky!” Unami howled.“I am afraid you won’t leave the temple, foolish, insolent child,” Death Inevitable whispered. “Giving birth to a hunter does not absolve your sins. It is your solemn duty to the tribe. But if you can placate The Sleeper, all will be forgiven.”“All will be forgiven,” the other two rumbled. Condor bowed his head and the hunters grasped her shivering arms.“Placate The Sleeper? I am no priestess!” Unami wailed. “What am I to do?”Death Inevitable crossed the chamber, reaching into the gaping maw of a hideous stone effigy. His paw depressed the sculpted tongue within and the floor opened before her like a ravenous maw.“Deliver her,” Serpent said, motioning for the pit. The air wafting from the orifice smelled wrong. Sweet and thick was the scent, causing her ravaged sex to weep in heat.The hunters first dragged, then shoved her forwards. Unami stumbled into the pit and fell. Like every member of the tribe she knew how to fall, even if her weakened body was slow and clumsy. Instead of breaking her legs, she curled up into a ball and dropped onto a slope of smooth stone. There were no holds, no purchase for her claws or scrabbling feet. Unami slid frantically into the lightless depths underneath the temple. Above her, the floor rumbled closed.The slope curled downward like the blasted serpent before delivering her into a lightless space that she judged huge by the sound of emptiness. The sweet stench was thicker here. Her teats ached and her sex seemed to overflow. Her breath threw shuddering echoes from the far walls.Blind like a newborn, Unami pawed on all fours, trying to earn a feel for this space. The floor was made from stone, large, regular tiles neatly fitted. The tip of her tail still touched the slope and there was no wall in easy reach. She took another step. Her paw landed on a bone. Unami gritted her teeth. She would not grant the elders the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She pulled the bone closer. It was long and stout. It would make a fine club.There was a soft noise ahead, a shy rustling.A grim smile stole onto Unami’s lips. If there were animals down here, they would probably be as blind as she was and easily hunted. At least she wouldn’t starve.“Come, come, little ratty,” Unami sang. “Mother has need of you.”The rustling came again, closer now. Using her sensitive ears, Unami aimed and swung the bone with murderous intent.There was swift movement, a powerful whiff of that sticky, sweet air. The cudgel hit the floor with crushing force and splintered into a thousand pieces like a hollowed twig.More rustling. Four, five sounds of movement at once. Unami bared her claws and teeth. How many rats were there?Something long and serpentine curled around her leg. It was soft and wet and moved with shocking speed, coiling around her calf and knee.Then came a jolt and she was unceremoniously dropped on her back. All Unami could do was to protect her head by twisting her spine and curling up as best she could. The impact cracked a few ribs and her elbows.Gasping in the thick, clingy vapors, she slapped at the soft, writhing tissue grasping her leg. Another tendril came, slick and wet and it curled around her other leg. With inexorable force, they pried her thighs apart. Shrieking, Unami clamped both hands over her gaping sex - to no avail. Another tendril came, binding her wrists and yanking her hands aside with contemptuous ease.She wasn’t sure if the fall had rocked her head or if she really heard it, but there was a low, growling noise. It grew louder and louder, mounting in front of her. She couldn’t see! She could only hear the noise, writhe as the tendrils slithered over her. No, not over, but into her! One, then two invaded her, probing at her ravaged insides.The gurgling stopped on a strange note. For one breathless moment Unami thought to hear a wordless question. The disgusting tendrils withdrew from her insides, leaving her spread open and shivering in the chamber’s rank air.Then the noise returned, loud and angry and so very close.A mighty weight settled onto her helpless body, covering her feet, legs, belly, chest and finally her snout. She sank her teeth into soft, warm tissue, tearing long, weeping gashes into malleable flesh. The noise changed as hitherto closed orifices gaped, adding a horrific wheezing to the cacophony.Unami added her own incoherent screams as acid poured from numerous maws, burning her limbs, dissolving her helpless body until nothing remained but a sweet-smelling puddle of goo.The Sleeper lapped at it, a satisfied purr echoing off the walls.Shala’s patience grew thin. What hope of finding Kelgore had she if these fools that carried her fell victim to some easily avoided calamity and left her stranded in this gods-forsaken wilderness?She had tumbled from the whore’s back as the claws of a dead man seized the crude pack full of carrion and tore it away. She could not see how her captors fared against the undead horde until the fop had knocked her aside to hastily gather the scattered meat and supplies.The buffoon’s man and the traitor both fell to the horde of corpses that had dragged themselves from the haunted swamp. Shala feared for a moment that all of her captors might perish and leave her stranded in the mud. But the whore fought bravely and well. With axe and sword she hacked a path through the grasping hands of the hungry dead. The fop followed in her wake and the buffoon held a lackluster rearguard.Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and plucked her out of the muck by her hair. The leather strap that secured her gag shifted, but only slightly.It would have been so easy to turn back the horde with just the right words of power and a bit of fire and flesh. But it would require hands that Shala did not yet have.She watched as the buffoon’s sword lodged in the ribs of a flanking corpse and the thing reached for him with rotting hands. She tried to scream in furious protest as the impudent fool swung her like a flail, slamming her skull against the head of the accursed ghoul. Through some intervention of the fate spinners, the impact knocked her gag askew.Working her tongue and jaw, Shala was finally able to spit out the shard of wood and let the leather strap fall away, just as the buffoon tucked her up under his arm.Shala nearly cried out at the insolence, but then she caught a tantalizing whiff of blood. There was a gash on the buffoon’s arm. The blood coagulated against her cheek, but her tongue could not reach. She was jostled in his grip as the buffoon ran limping after his companions, stumbling and fumbling blindly through the jungle boscage. Bit by bit she shifted until she could press her thin lips right to the wound, and taste the ferric tang on her tongue.“You can stop now,” Shala called out, once she had lapped her fill of the buffoon’s essence. “Do you hear me? You’ve fled beyond the reach of the dead.”“And why should we believe you?” asked the whore, panting. Before Shala could answer, the whore added “Joras, find another gag.”“Because if you die then I am abandoned out here. Do you think this is how I wish to end my existence? Lying in the muck, helpless as the scavengers pick at my flesh until nothing is left? My only chance at life is if you reunite me with my son. While you may well choose to slay me once my usefulness is done, I’ll take a slim chance over no chance at all, and help you where I can.”The fop scoffed. “And what help can a disembodied witch offer?”“While you dithered at a crossroads, I felt the jungle life fade away before the great predator that stalked you. And you ignored my warnings,” Shala spat.“I alone recognized the rancid scent of death tinged with the ozone of magic and knew the undead were nearby. But again you ignored me and two of your number paid for your negligence with their lives. How many more will die because a reckless whore refuses to heed my counsel?”“Your point is made,” the whore growled. “There is no need for more insults.”“Oh, do my words hurt your poor little pride? Perhaps you’d feel better if you were gagged and hauled around like chattel.” The whore glowered at her, but did not retort. “I have eyes to see and senses attuned to powers from beyond the veil. Give me a mouth to speak and heed my counsel and your chances of living to find Kelgore will improve! You’ve lost two pairs of eyes already. Are you so foolish as to throw away a third?”“I don’t trust it or its counsel,” the whore said. Being referred to so coarsely would have raised the bile in Shala’s throat, if she had bile, or more than an inch of throat. She let the insult pass.“Neither do I,” agreed the buffoon. “But I have known many men I did not trust, and I have never known it to be a lie when a man says ‘I want to live’.”“Our resources are few enough,” the fop agreed. “I don’t think we’d be any worse off if she betrays us.”“Fine,” agreed the whore through gritted teeth. “But if you lead us into danger, I shall smash you with a rock before I die. Understood?”“Agreed." Shala swallowed her pride."Unless our new advisor knows of a safer camp, I think we should get some rest,” the whore decided. “Joras, skin our dinner. Ambrose, see if you can spark a fire. I’ll gather you some wood. Shala…” she paused as if it pained her to speak the words. “You’re on watch.”In the distance, from every direction, the drums continued.In the chamber above The Sleeper’s lair, Condor sighed. “One malnourished whelp won’t do, you know?”Death Inevitable touched his golden forehead. “The Sleeper is mightily displeased indeed. Unami was but a morsel for it.”“At least his hunger will be sated for the moment,” Serpent muttered. “We might find a bit of respite tonight.”Together, the elders returned to the great hall. The rumble of the drums was loud and clear, reverberating from the walls.Condor cocked his head. “A hunting party returns. They have brought an outsider.”“Fortunate tidings indeed,” Serpent said, a smile in his voice. “The Sleeper might feast again shortly.”“Let us see what the hunters have brought then,” Death Inevitable purred. “Hopefully this new sacrifice will send The Sleeper back to sleep. I dread the day when the temple and the offerings can’t contain its might no longer. The Sleeper might devour reality itself.”“If it is an outsider woman, we should avail ourselves of her services before tossing her into the Pit,” Condor said. “To make sure The Sleeper will be properly serviced, of course.”Chuckling softly, the elders headed for the exit, eager to meet their next sacrifice.As dawn broke, they strode into the village. Hunters prepared for another expedition into the jungle, sharpening their spears or wrapping rations. Passing females, their young scurrying between their feet, offered bows of respect. The midwife clutched Unami’s newborn to her bosom, allowing the pale blond whelp to suck at her teat.“Let’s hope the outsider was strong,” Death Inevitable muttered. “His offspring looks disgusting, so pale.”“We will see in a few years’ time,” Serpent said. “Ah, there they are.” He gestured towards a tangle of tribesmen, clustered around the hunting party. Adults and whelps alike muttered among themselves.“As if they’ve seen an outsider for the first time,” Death Inevitable murmured. “How different can they be?”The knot of tribesmen split, allowing the elders their first glance at the outsider. He stood unbound, surrounded by three hunters who gazed upon him in open admiration. The fourth, a female, had her tail raised high, the scent of her cunt announcing to all downwind how desperate in need of a thorough railing she was. The outsider was odd. Too scrawny to be a warrior, he nonetheless bore himself with the stance of a chieftain. What little fur he wore on his head was long, slick and the color of night. But most odd were his eyes, featureless black orbs of night. He raised his voice, speaking the strange words of the outsiders. None understood the strange syllables he used, but all felt the power radiating through his voice. It commanded their full attention. Transfixed, the elders, the tribesmen, the women and whelps watched, their gazes fixed on the strange man. Each one of them he bathed in his obsidian gaze and one by one they became his unquestioning servants. Not even the Sleeper could help them now.“Stop it!” Ambrose screamed into the night. “Stop the fucking drumming all day and all fucking night. Just fucking stop it!”The distant drum beat continued unabated by the outburst. The sonorous rhythm had followed them from the beach, through the jungle, surrounding them, moving with them like the stench of a beggar. They had tried more than once to follow the sound and find one of the natives, but always the drum they approached fell silent and a distant drum joined the chorus.“What do you want?!” Ambrose continued, stalking from one edge of their campfire light to the other, yelling into the darkness at the top of his voice. “Do you want us to go? Do you want us to follow? We don’t know what the drums mean! We use words! Do you hear me? Words! Show yourselves and tell us what you want! Kill us or capture us if you must, but for the love of all that is holy, stop the gods-damned drumming!”His injured foot throbbed. His whole body ached. Nicks and cuts and lacerations bedeviled his face and arms after being thrashed through the underbrush by that slavering beast. The midges and mites of the swamp had fed on him mercilessly and if it hadn’t been for Tsonia and Joras, the shambling dead would have finished him, just as they had poor Montu and Sethos. Ambrose was a man of the sea. The perils of this mad and alien landscape perturbed his senses and flustered his wits.“It’s not even good drumming, damn it!” Ambrose saw Tsonia and Joras scowling in the firelight at his agitated pacing. He didn’t know if his ranting had awakened them, or if they like he had laid awake, unable to sleep with the constant racket. “A poxy toddler banging on his mother’s pot with a spoon can come up with a more inventive rhythm! But not you lot, no! Your primitive fucking brains can’t come up with anything more original than just bum bum bum over and over and over again and again and again!”He grabbed up a heavy stick from their dwindling pile of firewood and banged it back and forth in a forked tree trunk, bang, bang, bang, in time to the distant drums’ cadence.“You hear that? Huh? How do you like it? How about if I keep it up all fucking night so you can’t sleep?”“Peace, Ambrose,” Joras implored, rising to soothe his friend’s discomfiture. “This raving does no good and it wastes the vitality you’ll want for tomorrow.”“I don’t care!” Ambrose screamed, and continued to beat the tree trunk. “I don’t fucking care anymore. I want them to stop or to show themselves or to attack us or something! Anything! Anything but this infernal drumming! It makes me wish I had drowned, Joras! I would rather die with the sound of the sea in my ears than live another hour beset by this ceaseless racket.”“I know it’s trying,”“Trying!? It’s maddening! This whole damn place is maddening!” Ambrose’s arm gave out at last and he let fall the stave from his hand even as he collapsed to his knees with a sob of exasperation. “Why won’t you stop!?” he cried again into the darkness. "Why won’t you show yourselves!?“"You are loud,” grunted a coarse voice in the simple words of the Trade Tongue used among sailors. Into the firelight stepped a tall native, his mottled green fur broken in places by ancient scars. His hands, though tipped with razor sharp claws, were empty, and held out in a gesture of parley.Tsonia, lithe as a panther, came to her feet with blade in hand, ready to smite the intruder. The towering, beast-headed native dodged and came to face Tsonia, still empty-handed. A leather bandolier bisected his broad chest. Spears and a pack rested on his back while a woven cord around his waist was hung with pouches, a sling and dagger and a simple loincloth.“We will fight,” he growled. “First, I will make the drums quiet for your loud friend.”The fire-haired warrior stayed her blade, curious to see what the newcomer would do next. “Slow,” she told him, speaking the same pidgin trade language. “I am watching.”The native bared his fangs, his ears perking up. Tsonia wasn’t sure if he was threatening her or if that was the stranger’s idea of a grin. Slowly, he reached for the pack he had slung over his back and placed it on the ground in front of him.“Watch,” the stranger said, kneeling. He opened a flap and pulled a small drum from his pack, which he struck in a certain rhythm, bam, bam, rap. He repeated the cadence, then again. And around them, the drums echoed the new beat, and fell silent. In the distance, the sonorous rumble continued, but in their immediate vicinity, there was nothing but the wind rustling in the trees and the occasional chirp of surprised nighttime birds.“What did you, say?” Joras asked, intrigued. Next to him, Ambrose sighed. The exhausted sailor settled down with his back against a tree, and despite his curiosity his head fell onto his chest almost immediately.The native offered Joras the same strange visage, open jaws and hanging tongue. “I found what I want. I need quiet to, see, watch, find,” he seemed to be searching for a word.“Hunt?" Joras asked, backing away from the beastman."Yes. Hunt.” the stranger agreed. “They are quiet. They will listen.”“Hunt, eh?” Tsonia sneered. “Will you, make us sick with, small spears?” She held up a finger and thumb spaced about two inches apart to show how small the darts were. Tsonia also struggled to find appropriate words in a vocabulary meant for trade and barter, but she lowered neither her guard nor the sword.The stranger sank onto his haunches, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the campfire. “No small spears. I am proud. I do not hunt with small spears.”“Your people are not proud two yesterdays,” Tsonia growled. The Trade Tongue didn’t concern itself with such lofty concepts as the past or the future. It was a language for discussing the here and now. “They hunt me with small spears by the good water. They make me sick.”“My tribe who hunt are not smart two yesterdays. Many outsiders come to our beaches and cannot leave again over many moons. My tribe thinks you are weak and not smart, like the other outsiders.”So they were not the first sailors to be marooned on these shores, Tsonia realized. Clearly the native had learned the Trade Tongue from somewhere, so castaways must be fairly common. It did not bode well for them that none had ever returned to tell the story of this place.The stranger hissed several times in quick succession. Maybe a laugh?“You kill two of my tribe. They know they made a mistake so they choose to hunt easy outsiders.” His eyes roamed over Tsonia and she could hear his satisfied purr. “I hunt you.”Tsonia raised an eyebrow. “Me?”“Two of my tribe are dead. I want, the death price.”Tsonia sighed. He wanted revenge for the two natives she had killed. The stranger before her was no savage. He obviously had intelligence and honor, perhaps even wisdom. But she didn’t have the vocabulary to explain such a complex situation, much less negotiate a peaceful solution.“Joras, you’re better with words than I,” she said in their native Thelyrian. “Tell him I killed two of his kind while driven half mad by their poison in my veins. Ask him why he thinks he can beat me now when I have my wits fully about me.”There was a struggle over words as Joras and the stranger exchanged the terms they knew and agreed to what they meant. Tsonia was beginning to regret involving her friend in the conversation. As her patience grew thin, he seemed to be enjoying the give and take and the accomplishment of finally conveying the whole idea.Again, the stranger laughed. “I watch you yesterday and two yesterdays, fire-hair. I watch you fight. I watch you walk far. You are tired, so I offer a bargain.”“Kaela…” Joras implored in Thelyrian, his voice laden with dread. “Don’t do anything foolish, please.”“I haven’t agreed to anything just yet.” Tsonia snorted in exasperation. “Are you blaming me for our misery too?”“I would never-” Joras began.“Let him talk then,” Tsonia snapped. “And don’t call me Kaela in front of everyone!”The stranger placed his clawed hand upon his chest. “I am called T'pek.” His voice, although struggling with the Trade Tongue, had a formal, almost ritualistic tone about it.Tsonia bowed her head. “I am called Red Tsonia. What do you offer?”“I ask you to fight, Red Tsonia. You owe me two hunters.”“You-kill-me is not equal to two hunters. They will not live if I die,” Tsonia said. It was another hard concept to convey, but she’d be damned if she was going to let Joras spend all night trying to negotiate poetically. “I see, a fight for pride, is a waste. A waste for me. A waste for you.”T'pek bared his fangs again. “We will fight. If I win, you will be, my tribe.” T'pek immediately waved away that idea as if it wasn’t exactly what he meant to say. “Just my tribe,” he amended, thumping his own chest.“Mate?” offered Joras. It was a Vizangian word that had made it into the Trade Tongue and was used to refer to any woman a man had sex with, be she joined by holy ritual, or just a concubine, slave, or whore.“Yes!” T'pek agreed. "Mate. You will be my mate. We will make strong children. My tribe will get more than two hunters.“A laugh escaped Tsonia’s lips. "You are too proud, T'pek. You are too proud of your fighting skill and your fucking skill. What will I get if you lose?”“I do not insult you, but you are slow and loud. You walk like blind and deaf children. You see bad signs but you still go forward. You risk weak people.” T'pek nodded towards battered, blissfully snoring Ambrose. “I offer that I will lead you and be smart for you, And I will also give you children.” He caressed his loincloth.Tsonia laughed again, a full-bellied sound of unbridled mirth. “You are smart. If you lose, you still fuck me. Is that right?”“A good hunter is strong and smart,” T'pek said with that uncanny grin.“Your tribe, Where do they take 'easy’ outsiders?” Tsonia asked. “What do they do with him?”“My tribe take your outsiders to our village. The leaders decide outsiders’ fate.” T'pek shook his head.“How many outsiders go to your leaders?” Joras interjected. “What do they say to your leaders?”“Some want to trade. Some are held to work. Some breed. Some fight.”“The unlucky ones are tossed into the swamp,” Tsonia added darkly in Thelyrian. Her brow creased in thought. “If I win, you will lead us to your village. You will teach us about your tribe and the village.”“Yes." Said T'pek."If I lose, I will be your mate, right?”An eager nod set T'pek’s mane aflutter.“Will I stay here,” Tsonia indicated their campsite with a sweep of her hand, “until I make children?”“No,” T'pek said with emphasis. “You will be my mate in the village. My people will take care of you. I will protect you and love you.”“If I lose, will they stay here?” she asked, indicating Joras and Ambrose.“I will take them to the village,”“For our fate to be decided by some chieftain or shaman or council we have no knowledge of?” Joras interrupted in Thelyrian. He sought Tsonia’s gaze. A flicker of dread was clearly visible. “I have a bad feeling about this.”The fire-haired warrior rose to her feet and planted her sword into the ground. “We have a deal, T'pek. How will we settle our fight? I will not be your mate if I am dead. You will not lead us if you are dead.”“No,” T'pek agreed, undoing his cord and placing the dagger, sling and pouches atop his pack. “We will stop when one of us is not proud and says 'stop’. Your people will know the agreement.”“'Yield’ is the word you want,” Tsonia said, watching the beastman strip away his kit. “We will stop when you yield or I yield.”“Yield." T'pek nodded his agreement and unknotted his loincloth, letting his manhood hang free."I believe he means to distract me by waving his lance in my face,” Tsonia joked to Joras in Thelyrian.“Yes, well, it’s distracting me quite nicely,” he agreed.“You show weakness there,” Tsonia pointed to T'pek’s naked crotch. His face scrunched into a look that Tsonia interpreted as indignation and realized he had taken her warning as an insult to his masculinity. “No, no, no,” she waved in correction and sought a better word. “Soft? Um, bad fight place?”Comprehension dawned on T'pek’s face and he snorted. “I will have no burden. Nothing to grab. Children of my tribe learn to fight with nothing.” His grappling gesture put Tsonia in mind of the formalized wrestling that was taught in the Green Cities. "Only fur. Belts hold tools. Packs hold food and water. They are bad for fighting.“So these people fought their duels of honor naked. It wasn’t a totally foreign concept. There were stories of great heroes from ages past who also dueled in the nude. It certainly ensured that neither party carried any hidden weapons.Tsonia pulled off her tattered chain hauberk with a resigned sigh. "Why have clothes at all then?” she asked, gesturing to the discarded loincloth lying on the ground in the firelight.T'pek’s gaze roamed over her rosy skin like a lover’s caress. He barked with mirth. “Soft,” he said, gesturing to his groin. “Weak. Sharp plants and rocks and bugs are bad. But Red Tsonia is good. It is strong for Red Tsonia.”“You are too proud, T'pek,” she smirked.Tsonia’s chain skirt hit the ground with the soft rattling of metal on packed earth. She tossed her armor at Joras’ feet and began to circle the camp site, taking the muscular native’s measure as he fell into step opposite her. He was taller than her, with wider shoulders and longer arms. Some earlier fight had left his chest and shoulder marked with ghastly scars, the otherwise lustrous fur refused to fully grow back there. Her lips curled into a playful grin as her gaze wandered lower, over his fur-covered abdomen and towards his groin. The fur was almost black there, long and shaggy and nowhere enough to cover a prodigious member which proudly curved towards his navel. His oddly bent legs didn’t seem to hinder his movement one bit and his sinuously weaving tail allowed him to easily keep balance.“If you want the death price for your tribe, you will fight me,” Tsonia remarked. “If you just look at me and I just look at you, we will not fight all night.” A smile flickered across her lips. “Or would you like to just look at me?” She caressed one of her breasts.The next moment, T'pek was on her, effortlessly closing the distance in one ferocious leap. His bulk tore Tsonia off her feet and together they crashed to the ground. Strong hands closed around her arm, one above and below the elbow each and when the world stopped spinning, Tsonia was face down in the dirt, with T'pek’s clawed foot between her shoulder blades and her arm bent at a very uncomfortable angle.She had clearly underestimated her opponent’s speed and reach, but he didn’t know any of her true strength either. Tsonia bucked, hard, unbalancing T'pek. For a heartbeat, his grip on her arm waned and she rolled, tearing her arm free, not caring if his claws tore open her back or the arm creaked in its socket. The sharp jabs of pain, if anything, only fuelled her battle-lust.In the time it took T'pek to regain his balance, Tsonia came to her feet. She was upon him, a blur of fists and kicks as she employed every trick she had gleaned from the fist-fighters in the Xhastrian coliseums. T'pek blocked some of her blows, took others with merely a grunt of annoyance and countered others. If he pulled any punches, Tsonia didn’t notice.One blow hit her clavicle, cracking it with the sickening sound of bone on bone. T'pek grunted, shaking out his rattled fist. Tsonia dove in, landing a solid hit to his gut which sent T'pek stumbling backwards.“Lift me up higher,” she heard Shala jeer. “I can’t see a damn thing!”“Shush you,” Joras muttered. “Don’t make this any more awkward.”Shala’s gleeful cackling gave T'pek pause. His eyes widened in horror as he beheld the disembodied head, held aloft by a disgusted Joras. Tsonia pressed her advantage, following up her attack with a furious shoulder charge.T'pek’s tail slapped across her breasts, leaving a stinging line of fire across them. Tsonia, not even fazed by the attack, barreled into him with enough force to spill both of them to the ground again. She pinned T'pek’s arms to the ground with her knees, her forearm firmly lodged under his maw, pressing hard against his throat.“Yield,” Tsonia hissed, putting her weight onto her arm. T'pek’s maw hung open, his tongue lolling to one side, his eyes rolling madly in their sockets. Suddenly, there was a soft sensation writhing between her thighs, tickling her sex. Tsonia’s hand flashed downwards, closing around T'pek’s nimble tail. Her tight grip elicited a hoarse yelp from the prone beastkin. Too late she realized how much of an advantage she had squandered. T'pek growled, fighting against her weight into a sitting position. Tsonia evaded a vicious head-butt by rolling backwards.Gasping, she came to her feet. T'pek followed suit, albeit a bit slower.“You, are strong,” he gasped. “You are tired, from two yesterdays, but you are strong. How?”“It will take more than a primeval forest and some rotting dead to wear me down,” Tsonia snarled in Thelyrian, then added for T'pek “You are not weak, T'pek, but not strong like me. Do you yield?”“No,” the beastkin growled something else in his own language, shaking his head in defiance. “I will make you yield!” He raised his fists.“Many people try to make me yield,” she spat. “All have failed.”“I will be the first,” T'pek roared, pouncing again.This time, Tsonia was ready. As he came flying, jaws open, hands ready to grasp and wrestle, she intercepted him. One hand caught his wrist, just behind his splayed claw, the other dug into the thick fur by his loins. Her demonic blood roared as Tsonia redirected his momentum, sending T'pek crashing to the ground back first. Breath exploded from the stunned beastkin in a hollow bark. Tsonia didn’t wait for him to recover, instead she mounted his hips, trapping his throbbing lance between them and pinning his arms to the ground with brute strength.“Yield,” Tsonia gasped. His lance underneath her was already drenched and she had to force herself from grinding herself against its searing heat.“No,” T'pek growled, trying to raise his arms. He could have tried to uproot a tree with his gaze alone, the effect was much the same.“Yield, you oaf,” Tsonia snarled. In Thelyrian she added “I could break your bones like rotted driftwood if I so desired.”“I am proud. I will not,” T'pek gasped as Tsonia ground herself against him, a languid, lust-driven roll of her full hips.“But you are worthless to me as a cripple,” Tsonia purred, then in the simple Trade Tongue she said “If I yield and you yield, we both get what we really want.” She reached backwards, guiding his shaft. Her sex swallowed his tip eagerly. T'pek’s breath caught in his throat as she claimed the full length of his spear.Tsonia’s voracious appetite, never easy to sate, had grown tremendously during their weeks at sea without any privacy and no suitable lovers. She had pondered asking Ambrose for a rowing slave or three, but even she knew how much trouble that could cause in the volatile confines of a warship. Not even pleasuring herself was an option, not with dozens of eager men devouring her every move. Not that she minded an audience, but again, the discipline aboard and the hope of finding and apprehending Kelgore had been more important than her own pleasure. Now, with T'pek writhing under her, she could finally indulge! She pushed herself away from him, only to reclaim his monstrous pole in a slow, breath-stealing descent.T'pek’s growl was the only warning she got. Too late Tsonia realized that she had relinquished her death grip on his wrists, to play with her tits and finger her clit as she rode his massive shaft.“No!” the beastman snarled. His claws slid under her ass and he pushed her away.“No?” Tsonia gasped, coming to her knees.“My tribe do not fuck this way,” T'pek growled, towering over her, his glistening shaft pointing at her.Tsonia glared at him. “What-?” she began, but T'pek was on her again, forcing her onto hands and knees. Before Tsonia could even protest his rough handling, his teeth clamped onto her shoulder, his clawed hands carved furrows into her hips as he roughly adjusted her position.Tsonia relaxed, anticipating what would happen next. T'pek did not disappoint. His bulbous tip forced her rosy curtains apart and in one fell swoop, he buried his sword to the hilt in her, his hot breath and spittle pouring down her shoulder. Tsonia wailed as he pounded into her, but it was no cry of pain, the demonic cock of Q'alan had more than seasoned her nethers. If anything, T'pek’s proud lance was a potent reminder of what she had been missing ever since the God-King had tasked her with finding and killing Kelgore.“Yes,” Tsonia growled, pushing back her hips on his next thrust. T'pek grunted with the effort of keeping her pinned beneath him, his spear slashing deep into her hungry tunnel. His claws found her breast, roughly kneading her supple flesh. Another wail tore from her lips, once more she pushed back against him. Blissful release tore through her already and every thrust only heightened her delirious ecstasy.“More!” Tsonia howled, answering each of T'pek’s thrusts with a roll of her hips. His furry sack slapped against her with blistering abandon each time he bottomed out. Hot blood trickled down her shoulder, his teeth sunk deep into her flesh.Tsonia tossed back her head, jubilating at the pain, the pleasure tearing through her body. T'pek’s tail slapped her ass, the squirming appendage caressing the valley between her cheeks like a second phallus. His paw mauled her breasts, but she only spurred him on with wordless moans and grunts. Another climax tore through her.Tsonia reared up, heedless of T'pek’s considerable bulk, heedless of his teeth sunk into her shoulder. She needed all of his delicious cock, buried deep within her hungry cunt!T'pek suddenly opened his jaws, his shockingly large tongue lapping at the bloody gashes his teeth had dug. He whined in surprise as the black blood oozing from the wounds seared his tongue.Tsonia rode him like a woman possessed, driving herself onto his shaft for all she was worth. Their bodies made lewd, slapping and squishing sounds as they collided.Suddenly, T'pek slammed his hands upon her hips and pinned her in place, his breath coming in unnaturally quick gasps. And then he erupted, spewing burst after burst of hot, sticky seed into Tsonia, filling her up to bursting and then more, leaking from their union in thick rivulets, dripping down into the ravaged earth.For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of rasping breath and the occasional drip of thick liquid spattering on the ground.Then Shala raised her voice. “I hope you had your fun, whore. Can we go find my son now?”Ambrose groaned as the light of the relentless morning sun attacked his eyes. He sat up and blinked, trying to dislodge the grit caking his eyelids. The drums, although not entirely gone, had at least quieted down and were more akin to the volcano’s distant rumblings than the oppressive, maddening drone which had almost broken him. Joras slept behind him, the artist’s arm a soothing weight on his waist. Ambrose pushed some of Joras’ locks from his angelic face and breathed a kiss of thanks onto his prickly cheek.“Good morning.” The voice was Shala’s, a mirthless, venomous rasp. Her head rested on a tree stump nearby. “Please don’t start another round of fornication. I was forced to behold entirely too much of it last night.” She made a disgusted sound. “Just look at them. Animals, truly." Her tongue came out, a shriveled lump of flesh, and pointed to the side.Ambrose gently moved Joras’ arm and gazed in the indicated direction. On the other side of the stump, curled into a tangle of limbs, were Tsonia and a monstrous being, naked both and obviously spent. The newcomer had a bestial snout resting on her shoulder, a powerful paw cupped her ample breast. Tsonia had a satisfied grin on her features and the stranger’s cock wedged between her ass cheeks."Can you believe it? They had me keep watch the entire time.” Shala gnashed her teeth. “Twice I had to endure their vulgar rutting. After that, hours of boredom. If I had my hands back I would throttle that whore!”The stranger raised his head, alert eyes meeting Ambrose’s. “Explain why the head talks,” he growled. “And why you keep such a thing.” He looked down to Tsonia’s shoulder. Faint bite marks marred her otherwise fair skin. “She tastes like poison and death,” the stranger said, his fur bristling. “Why?”“I have questions of my own,” Ambrose said, his hand inching towards his cane. He doubted he would be a match for the stranger’s prowess, but he felt better with a weapon at the ready. “Who are you? What do you want from us?”“I am T'pek, the hunter,” the stranger said. “I came to challenge fire-hair. Tsonia.”“And then the whore allowed the beast to breed her. Twice at least,” Shala added.“How did I miss that?” Ambrose asked.Stories about Tsonia’s amorous exploits were as numerous and outlandish as those of her prowess on the field of battle. He chuckled softly, knowing at least one of them to be true. It involved him, Tsonia and Joras after all.That particular tale ended with the fire-haired vixen spurned and furious after she caught Ambrose and Joras, naked, sweaty and curled around each other after an afternoon of lovemaking in a nameless pirate inn. She had been so obsessed with sating her own desires, so fixated on bedding Ambrose that she did not, for one moment, consider that Joras’ classical beauty and his youthful body were much more to his liking than Tsonia’s carelessly presented curves.T'pek rose, his muscular frame easily towering above sitting Ambrose. With enviable grace, the beastkin crossed the small clearing they had chosen as their camp site and dug into a pile of gear. Carrying a small bundle in his paw, he returned to the stump and knelt down next to Ambrose.The captain forced himself to look anywhere but the stranger’s groin. He had to admit, T'pek’s form, though alien to his sensibilities, exuded power and virility he would find utterly irresistible under other circumstances. After all, curiosity was a prized trait in any explorer.T'pek offered the bundle. It was wound in thick, crimson leaves, with pale yellow and white ribs. The smell emanating from it was at the same time mouth-watering and stomach-churning.“Do I want to eat that?” Ambrose asked, a tad suspiciously.“Yes. Eat. You are hurt. It will help.” T'pek nudged the bundle into his hand.“He might be lying,” Shala spat in Xhastrian. “You and Joras are of no concern to him. All he cares for is-”The hunter turned on his heels, claws out. A dangerous, low growl escaped T'pek’s throat. The undead witch closed her mouth, spearing the beastkin with baleful glares instead.“What does it say?” asked T'pek, circling Shala’s perch as if looking for just the right angle to punt her into the treetops.“Treachery and insults that will get her smashed with a rock and then burned to ash if she isn’t careful,” Ambrose chastised Shala. To T'pek he said “She says bad words about you. Bad words about Tsonia.”“The bad words it says have no use. Why keep it?” T'pek asked again.“Uh, magic. Strong magic,” Ambrose said. He was well acquainted with the words of trade on his tongue, but they were usually spoken across a table over tankards of wine, or between two ships lashed together in the open sea, or between merchant caravans meeting at a crossroads. Hearing the words, simple and ineloquent as they were, spoken by the beastial newcomer gave him a disquieting sensation along the length of his spine. “She promised to bring us home with magic. If we find the man she wants,” he continued, fighting to keep a straight face. The bundle’s scent was becoming utterly vile the longer he held it.“Do you trust it?”Ambrose sighed. “We have no ship. We cannot build one. We can wait many many tomorrows and moons for a ship to come. Or we can gamble.” He wasn’t certain how to express the concept of 'Hope’ in the simple Trade Tongue so in his own words, to settle his own mind, he added. “I’ll take a little hope over no hope at all.”“We gamble,” he concluded to T'pek.Gathering all his courage, he bit into the bundle. Rancid juices poured into his mouth. Strange clumps of an alien texture were borne on that vile torrent, their taste unfathomable. Coughing, he dropped the morsel, trying to wipe sticky remains from his lips. They burned as if touched by Thelyrian devil’s peppers.“Are you trying to kill me?” he snarled, raising his cane. T'pek shook his head and left him, sputtering and close to retching.Joras stirred next to him, no doubt roused by his violent hacking. Tsonia woke up too, disheveled but alert. Her gaze swept the campsite. When she spotted no immediate danger, she fussed about the stains and dirt caking her naked skin. Eventually, she sighed and stood.“I will bring water,” she said, grabbing the water skins. “Good water is not far.”“I will lead you,” T'pek offered. “The jungle is hungry in the morning.”“Not as hungry as his appetite for her cunt,” Shala muttered to their backs, already halfway across the clearing. Aloud she said: “If you wanted succor for your injuries, sailor, you had but to ask. I can easily restore your lost vigor.”“The price will be higher than you’d wish to pay, Ambrose,” Joras warned, then turned to the witch’s severed head. “Besides, don’t you need hands to work your magic?”“Small minds ask stupid questions,” Shala sighed dramatically. “Not every spell requires elaborate gesticulation. Sometimes a sip of blood and a few well-chosen words are all that is needed to weave the powers of the ether into a useful tapestry.”“Do you trust her?” Joras asked, the second time Ambrose had heard the question this morning.Ambrose gnashed his teeth. Sleeping on the forest floor had done little to dull the numerous aches he harbored. His sprained ankle was a dull throb even when sitting, but he knew it would flare into a beacon of agony after another day of walking for miles on end. Every nick and cut he had suffered stung from his own sweat, every insects’ bite itched worse than the caress of a jellyfish’s tendril.“I’m at my wit’s end, Joras!” he sobbed. “On the sea, there is a time to wait for the wind to shift and fill your sails, and there is a time to break out the oars and row. The wind is not shifting, Joras. Unless you want to drag or carry me to whatever fate awaits us, I’m going to die here in this jungle, unless I row.”He limped to the tree stump and picked up Shala’s head with both hands. Holding her up to his face, he stared into her undead eyes. “Speak, witch. What do you need me to do?”“Kiss me, oh captain of the seas,” Shala purred. “It will be over in no time.” The witch started to mutter, knotty words not meant for mortal tongues.“You have to be joking!” Joras gasped. “Put your lips to that, thing?”“Either that or dying on a nameless jungle path,” Ambrose said, gritting his teeth. He puckered his lips and pulled the witch’s head close. Shala, having finished her incantation, gazed at him with pursed lips, her wicked eyes wide with anticipation.“There’s a good boy,” the witch cooed. “Be strong. It will be over very soon.”Her clammy, withered lips touched his. Then came her tongue, probing into his mouth. He tried to clench his teeth against the intrusion, but the glutinous texture of the organ so repulsed his sensibilities that his jaw opened in revulsion instead. He very nearly dropped her then, but forced himself to endure the horror.The witch’s tongue delved impossibly deep, caressing his teeth, tracing unknown sigils on the roof of his mouth, coddling his own tongue. Ambrose had eaten raw fish tasting better than the curling flesh, but there was no escape from the loathsome kiss. He was transfixed by her undead eyes as her tongue explored his mouth, fouling it with her rotten taste.At last the organ withdrew and Ambrose began to relax- until her teeth gouged a bloody furrow into his lower lip. He dropped the head, but Shala did not fall. His lip, clamped tightly in her teeth, distended from the weight of Shala’s head hanging off of it. With pain lancing through his jaw Ambrose swatted at the witch, but every blow that landed only tore his flesh.Joars finally intervened with a cry of protest. Seizing the witch’s head, he supported its weight, alleviating the pull on Ambrose’s lip. He twisted Shala’s ear until she finally released her grip sputtering one last breathless word, her maw stained crimson with blood.Ambrose held his mouth, close to losing his stomach for the second time this cursed morning. As Joras asked after his state, Ambrose’s heartbeat throbbed through the deep gash in his lip and he itched to cave in that undead skull with his cane. A tingling, burning sensation started in his lips, then spread.“What manner of curse have you-” Ambrose spat, bloody spittle flying from his lips. But then he noticed it, the pain was receding! The mutilated lip was knitting itself closed! Like hundreds of stinging fire ants, the sensation traveled down his body, leaving nothing but the absence of pain behind. Even the ever-present throbbing in his ankle abated!“No curse.” Shala grinned up at him from Joras’ grip, her cheeks flushed with an infusion of life. “I have told you again and again, until we find my boy, I will do my best to help.”Ambrose mulled the words over in his mouth, but as a man of honor, he had no choice, even if it galled him. Taking a deep breath, he bowed.“Thank you, Shala.”The witch’s grin was loathsome. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”Suddenly a long, drawn wail echoed through the jungle.“That’s Tsonia!” Ambrose exclaimed, reaching for a sword. “She’s in trouble!” As if to answer him, a second wail followed.“No,” Joras sighed, setting Shala back down. “That is not the sound of Tsonia in distress I’m afraid.”“The whore is in heat, like a mongrel bitch” Shala spat dismissively.“She is having all the fun, is she?” Ambrose asked, placing an arm around Joras’ shoulders.The artist scowled. “Sometimes it is very difficult, being her chronicler.” He gently laid his head upon the taller man’s shoulder. “It may be a while before we get that water.”Ambrose chuckled. “I’d rather half a keg of Debon’s Winter Mead right about now.”He shifted his weight to embrace Joras. Had it been only a few days since they’d been swept upon these dreadful shores? Ambrose had almost forgotten how it felt to stand without favoring his bad foot.Joras looked up at him, a sly cock to his eyebrow. “Oh, you do remember our first night then?” he asked. “I thought all that mead had muddled your memory.”“I remember enough,” Ambrose affirmed, and then he kissed Joras in a way he’d not soon forget. Maybe, he thought, they’d make it out of this hellish jungle alive after all, if Tsonia’s recklessness didn’t kill them all.With Ambrose’s body mended and T'pek leading them, they traveled at a much faster clip. The soggy, swampy soil gave way to firmer ground, with the occasional rock formation jutting up between the trees. By midday, the jungle seemed much less dense and oppressive, with pools of golden sunlight cutting through wider gaps in the leafy canopy.Shortly before dusk, with thick clouds pooling overhead, they reached a wide, gaping chasm. Deep below was the glitter of a rock-strewn river, its rush and roar echoing off the sheer cliffs to either side.Ambrose peered over the edge, shuddering. “What are those dark shapes clinging to the walls?” He pointed.“Death on wings,” T'pek said. “They hunt fish below.”“I hear a 'but’ somewhere,” Joras quipped, then turned to T'pek. “How do we cross? Climb?”T'pek shoo

In the summer of 1933, 18-year-old Violette Noziere poisoned her parents before heading out to enjoy the Parisian nightlife. When she was arrested and gave the motive for her crime, Violette scandalized the country.Sources:Breton, Andre. Violette Nozieres (Brussels: Editions Nicolas Flamel, 1933).Maza, Sarah. Violette Noziere: A Story of Murder in 1930s Paris (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011).Reynolds, Sian. France Between the Wars: Gender and Politics (London: Routledge, 1996).Traub, Courtney. “La Coupole, a Montparnasse Brasserie Haunted With Artistic History.” Paris Unlocked. 10 October, 2023. https://www.parisunlocked.com/best-of-paris/inside-la-coupole-a-montparnasse-brasserie-haunted-with-artistic-history/Warner, Judith. “The Murder that Transfixed 1930s Paris.” Book Review - Violette Noziere. New York Times. 3 June, 2011. https://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/05/books/review/book-review-violette-noziere-by-sarah-maza.htmlMusic: Credits to David Fesilyan For more information, visit www.oldbloodpodcast.com

Ariel Demure is a chameleon who could be dark-haired, a redhead, or blonde on any given day. Her smoking hot looks harken back to the glamourous Vivid and Digital Playground contract stars who heated up the screen. And although she's glamorous, she's also down to earth and has a sparking personality and wit. Award-winning, sought-after directors like Ricky Greenwood sing her praises for being the total package of beauty, professionalism, acting, and on-screen performances. At a young age, it was evident that she was destined for greatness when she snagged the crown for prom queen in high school. Ariel got her start in the industry in strip clubs, was a makeup artist who did drag performances under the name Liv Demure for five years at local show bars in Fort Lauderdale and worked retail before making the leap into adulthood.   With just a few years in the industry, Ariel is in demand and has worked for all the top studios and has appeared in over 80 scenes for Adult Time's Oopsie! and Transfixed, Grooby, Evil Angel, TransAngels, Gender X Films, Devil's Film, and Transsensual, and has scored tons of DVD covers. And she's one of the few stars to have a perfect 5-star rating from fans on Adult Empire.   Ariel has also received many accolades for her work, and in 2023 she won Best Hardcore Performer and Best Boy/Girl Scene from the TEAs and Best Thespian – Trans/X and Best Trans One-on-One Sex Scene from the AVN Awards and Best Top, Best Threeway Scene, and Movie of the Year from the Fleshbot Awards. Additionally, she has received eight AVN Awards nominations for Trans Performer of the Year, Best Thespian (twice), Best Trans Newcomer, and multiple noms for her scene work, six TEAs nods for Best Hardcore Performer (twice) and scene work, Trans Performer of the Year from XBIZ, Best Transsexual Performer from NightMoves, Best Premium Social Media Star from the AltStar Awards, seven Fleshbot Awards noms for Trans Performer of the Year and her scene work, Best Transgender Performer of the Year from the Urban X Awards, and Trans Performer of the Year from the XRCOs. Ariel's been profiled by AVN Magazine, who hailed her as one of the top newcomers when she scored four AVN Awards nominations in 2022, more than any newcomer in history.   Keep up with everything in Ariel's world by following her on Twitter, IG, and Reddit at @ArielDemure. And watch some of her best content, including being on set, BTS, and her worldwide adventures, by subscribing to her OnlyFans onlyfans.com/arieldemure.

Pastor Tammy discusses "Transfigured and Transfixed " in this week's sermon. Scripture: Mathew 17:1-9. Your gifts make Podcasts like this possible. Take a moment to make a gift to Anniston First: https://onrealm.org/FirstUnitedMeth94212/-/form/give/nowSermon was originally given on February 19, 2023.

Dom and Chris are TRANSFIXED on the Trial Of The Century: Gwyneth "Goop" Paltrow vs. A Retired Optometrist. TV Producer and Comedian Cat Pappas joins to discuss if Goop even needs fixing now that she has risen to Godlike status in the minds of Dom and Chris. Then, a pitch is delivered that has been dubbed the best pitch to ever be pitched on the podcast to date. This episode is brought to you by the letter G and the word Unhinged.You can find Cat at @catpappas.You can find Dom at dommentary.com.You can find Chris at @thechrisderosa.Write a review and let us know who you want us to fix! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Rev. Jane Esterline (Matthew 17:1-9)

The horrific murder of Catherine Fuller transfixed Washington in 1984. And now, nearly 40 years later, it's the subject of a book by former D.C. public defender Tom Dybdahl. He convincingly argues that several innocent young Black men were unfairly convicted. He's here to tell us about what happened — and what's still happening. On a happier note, we've got some BIG NEWS. Next week, both this podcast and our sister newsletter Hey DC are going all-in on Valentine's Day prep. Get psyched for the D.C. Love Kit from February 6 to 10. We've got travel recs, dating advice, friendship advice, and more. And we'd love your suggestions too, so call in with what YOU want to hear. Our number is 202-642-2654. Or email us at dc@citycast.fm. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

#TaylorSwift is an icon. She entertains AND inspires! Have you seen the #TikTok trend where people share how they PLOTTED to land their now boyfriend/husband? Can you relate?... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Who is currently winning the battle on the sporting landscape? Matty opened the show judging the entertainment of the T20 & Rugby League World Cups, as well as the ongoing spring carnival.

Ngahuia was just five years old when Queen Elizabeth II visited in 1953. She speaks to Jesse about the excitement that permeated through her village, and remembers the adrenaline she felt as 5000 Maori performers gathered to put on a show.

On the precipice of a dying world, consumed by the victories of the Death Cults of Capitalism, the legions of undead break their chains and rise up. The time for the Skeleton War is nigh. This week on Scheduled for Launch join me, Zach Walsh, as I welcome back Tanya Floaker to talk about their game, "Lo! Thy Dread Empire." Command your legions of the undead, as you build and army to crush your enemies and fight your friends in this wargame, built on the back of narrative gameplay. We talk about Lore, rules and taking an inspiration and making it your own!   Kickstarter - https://timeoftribes.com/ itch - https://timeoftribes.itch.io/ Twitter - https://twitter.com/TimeOfTribes Instagram - https://instagram.com/TimeOfTribes Enjoy the show and want to chat with me? Check out these links then! Discord - https://discord.gg/4qkQY2wF2f Twitter - https://twitter.com/Schedule4Launch Email - scheduledforlaunch@gmail.com

This week marks the 73rd anniversary of the Kathy Fiscus tragdedy. Kathy Fiscus was a three-year-old girl who fell into a well in San Marino, California in April 1949. The multi-day rescue effort was heartbreaking and became the focus of the first live breaking news event in the history of television news. KTLA's coverage brought thousands of people to the scene in a desperate attempt to save Kathy.In the new book “Kathy Fiscus: A Tragedy that Transfixed the Nation,” William Deverell, professor of history and director of the Huntington-USC Institute on California and the West, takes readers inside the incident and provides the definitive history of it. During this podcast, Professor Deverell reveals how the rescue effort unfolded, explains KTLA's role in the spectacle, and discusses the lasting impacts of the event.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

With the fog of war propaganda at all-time highs, The Alex Jones Show continues to be an oasis of truth that is able to cut through the lies and disinformation like no other broadcast in the world! Tune in and share this link!Author, software developer, and American political theorist Curtis Yarvin, AKA Mencius Moldbug, joins today's broadcast to break down incredible unfolding events! https://www.infowars.com/posts/world-in-shock-over-ongoing-threat-of-nuclear-war-monday-live/Sky Pilot Radio - The Soundtrack of your Life 60's thru the 80's https://live365.com/embed/player.html?station=a43752&s=md&m=dark&fbclid=IwAR2jOF5-KI8xICGRAafRL24P-6KMARMCldG1nNoXZGYFnbJBAuI05DV-5gA

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Reusse was transfixed on the level of horse (bleep) ness in last night's Vikings game!!

Reusse was transfixed on the level of horse (bleep) ness in last night's Vikings game!!

MNST: Reusse was transfixed on the level of horse (bleep) ness in last night's Vikings game!!

MNST: Reusse was transfixed on the level of horse (bleep) ness in last night's Vikings game!!

Singer and dancer Claudine Longet and skier Spider Sabich were the “it” celebrity couple of the early 70s. When a gun Longet was holding in their Aspen, Colorado, home went off, killing Sabich, it became one of the biggest stories of the decade. While many have forgotten about it over the decades, the issues of […]

Singer and dancer Claudine Longet and skier Spider Sabich were the “it” celebrity couple of the early 70s. When a gun Longet was holding in their Aspen, Colorado, home went off, killing Sabich, it became one of the biggest stories of the decade. While many have forgotten about it over the decades, the issues of […]

Singer transitions through the many meanings of a word, a movie that misogynists will like, and why things aren't always what they seem at the beach.  

Dr. Ben Witherington: Transfixed, a vision of paradise regained

Message from Brad Easley on June 20, 2021

Message from Brad Easley on June 6, 2021

Message from Brad Easley on May 30, 2021

Kathy Fiscus was a three-year-old girl who fell into a well in San Marino, California in April 1949. The multi-day rescue effort was heartbreaking and became the focus of the first live breaking news event in the history of television news. KTLA's coverage brought thousands of people to the scene in a desperate attempt to save Kathy.In the new book "Kathy Fiscus: A Tragedy that Transfixed the Nation," William Deverell, professor of history and director of the Huntington-USC Institute on California and the West, takes readers inside the incident and provides the definitive history of it. During this podcast, Professor Deverell reveals how the rescue effort unfolded, explains KTLA's role in the spectacle, and discusses the lasting impacts of the event.

Transfixed or Transformed?

PREVIEW :: London A. Dark, the ZaZen Boy Detective :: 223C Baker Street :: In 1928, Sherlock Holmes’ younger, upstairs, gay neighbor secretly accepts many of Sherlock’s clients who come to the wrong address by mistake... In his hidden underground nightclub and gay sauna at 69 Dean Street in Soho, W1, London Dark practices the magical rituals of Ancient Tibetan ZaZen, and it is there he will soon meet his protégé and confidante, the Boy Jack Wilder...— London A. Dark, “ZaZen Secrets from the Dark”CHAPTER 5 :: “Dark Origins and the Engines of Dream”At 19, London A. Dark, ZaZen Gay Boy Detective was Scotland Yards’ youngest consulting detective, and also the least expensive, especially compared to his downstairs neighbour at 221 B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes. The clickity-clank of the horse’s metal shoes echoing on each cobblestone down Dean Street revealed to the boy, London A. Dark exactly how many pints of double cream were left on the Milk Float drawn by the earliest horse every morning in Soho...The secrets of Ancient Tibetan ZaZen and the power to stop time allows London A. Dark to follow certain moments ensconced and pentangled in any TransFixed scene a certain distance, then into the past or future to spot for clues. Clues to some certain Mystery of the Universe as yet unexplored....This distance may be predicted with some certainty if the following equations are solved for local SpaceTime in your galaxy and a Time Map of all ground level Dark Matter Zones is close at hand.On Earth X, every subatomic particle created in Universe X was created with an equal and opposite bonded antimatter particle of the same type but with a reversed spin or charge.This Zero Sum design, in which each subatomic particle grouping, or Dirt, as it’s currently called in the London Royal Academy of Science, has a bonded particle of opposite power ensuring the Universe is stable, balanced and thus preventing the collapse of all galaxies into the black holes at their centrepoint.The ability of whole planets and giant stars to hang effortlessly in outer space depends on the total weight of the Universe being absolute zero. In this way, only a minor amount of gravity is required to hold the Galactic spiral arms filled with fringe stars and planets in place. Weightlessness in outer space includes everything, not only human beings... The Sun and Earth are equally weightless and floating in outer space. This system on balance prevents any galaxy unwinding itself or spiralling out of control. In his training in Ancient Tibet, London A. Dark was taught to bring the vibration of his consciousness to the highest harmonic wave emanated by Earth X... In doing so, the multiple harmonics become visible in the mind’s eye and the boy Dark is able to focus the power of ZaZen on the clearest tones, bringing them into his visual field like the dial on a telescope might bring the moon Titan into a detailed view on a cold, cloudless night in Greenwich Observatory.In Nanda Parbat, with the aid of an Ancient Tibetan Spinning Spiral Mandala, a 17 year old London A. Dark came to know Ptolemy’s Machine, the Organon Parallacticon, which resets the polar spin on the two hemispheres of one’s mind through the use of sound and vision projected by telepathy.This method of Machine induced enlightenment united with the power of ZaZen, altered the Dark boy’s relationship with time as it allowed tracers from the future falling backward In time to mix with with Tachyons, so as to appear visible in one’s mind in both dreams and in some forms of waking sight,... At the moment, though, a Holografix Code rotated counterintuitively in front of Dark’s eyes. He could see slipping into his view a telepathic text retyping itself into the light. “Text coming in backwards,” with his eyes shut, London read the words as they appeared one by one in his mind’s eye.“It is the hammer of dark people fear, not the unfolding of fear itself...”This message will seem clear to any avid reader of “The Chronicles of London A. Dark,” but as this slim volume of mostly romantic poems and sonnets written by the boy London A. Dark, to his one true love, Jack Wilder, is largely pornographic for Edwardian Times in England, reciting these strangely surreal epic montage like histories here, may seem ill advised for a gentleman of the times. The Holografix message, seemingly induced by the familiar forces of the Machine Parallacticon in Alexandria, Egypt, brought a brooding sense of unease to A. Dark’s previously confident strut...“Now who would be sending telepathic messages across time, from a machine long lost and abandoned during the great fire in the Library of Alexandria.” London A. Dark, was bemused at the thought of someone locating his position in the year 1928, in Soho, on Dean Street, at 8:38 in the morning... The Roman soldiers had angrily set fire to the library in Alexandria, after checking out several books and finding they could not read Egyptian Holografix by telepathy...The head librarian, Hypatia Theon, was captured by the soldiers and sentenced to death for the crime of witchcraft...

Notations -> http://www.shivkumar.org/music/#a Pallavi: alai pAyudE kaNNA en manam migha alai pAyudE un Ananda mOhana vEnugAnamadil Anupallavi: nilai peyarAdu shilai pOlavE ninra nEramAvadariyAmalE migha vinOdamAna muralIdharA en manam caraNam teLinda nilavu paTTappaghal pOl eriyudE un dikkai nOkki enniru puruvam neriyudE kaninda un vENugAnam kATril varugudE kaNgaL shorugi oru vidham varugudE madhyama kaalam kaditta manattil urutti padattai enakku aLittu magizhtta vA oru tanitta vanattil aNaittu enakku uNarcci koDuTTu mugizhtta vA kalai kaDal alaiyinil kadiravan oLiyena iNaiyiru kazhal-enakkaLittavA kadari manamuruga nAn azhaikkavO idara mAdaruDan nI kaLikkavO idu taghumO idu muraiyO idu dharumam tAnO kuzhal UdiDum pozhudAdiDum kuzhaigaL pOlavE manadu vEdanai mighavODu (alai) Meaning: My mind (“en manam”) is all aflutter (“alai pAyudE”), Oh Krishna (“kaNNA”), listening to the joyous (“Ananda”), enchanting (“mOhana”) music (“gAna”) of your (“un”) flute (“vEnu”), My mind is all aflutter! Transfixed, I stood (“ninra”) there like (“pOlavE”) a statue (“shilai”), oblivious (“ariyAmalE”) of even the passage of time (“nEramAvada”), hey, mysterious (“migha vinOdamAna”) flautist (“muralIdharA”)! In this clear (“teLinda”) moonlight (“nilavu”) that makes a day (“paTTappaghal pOl eriyudE”) of the night, I strain my two (“enniru”) eyebrows (“puruvam”) hard (“neriyudE”) and look (“nOkki”) in your (“un”) direction (“dikkai”), the mellow tunes of your flute (“kaninda un vENugAnam”) come floating in the breeze (“kATril varugudE”)... my eyes (“kaNgaL”) feel drowsy (“shorugi”) and a new feeling sweeps my being (“oru vidham varugudE”). Come (“vA”)! Place your feet and mould (“urutti padattai”) my heavy heart (“kaditta manattil”), make it full (“enakku aLittu”) and fill me with joy (“magizhtta”)! Come! take me to a (“oru”) lonely (“tanitta”) grove (“vanattil”) and fill me (“koDuTTu mugizhtta vA”) with the emotions of ecstatic union (“aNaittu enakku uNarcci”)! You are the one who danced and made merry (“iNaiyiru kazhal-enakkaLittavA”) on the sun-bathed (“kadiravan oLiyena”) waves (“alaiyinil”) of the ocean (“kalai kaDal”)! Am I to go on pleading (“kadari … nAn azhaikkavO”) for you with melting (“uruga”) heart (“manam”), while you are enjoying (“kaLikkavO”) yourself (“nI”) with other (“idara”) women (“mAdaruDan”)? Is it right (“idu taghumO”)? Is it proper (“idu muraiyO”)? Is it what dharma is? (“idu dharumam tAnO”). My heart (“pozhudu”) dances (“AdiDum”) even like (“pOlavE”) your eardrops (“kuzhaigaL”) do when you blissfully play (“UdiDum”) the flute (“kuzhal”)! With (“mighavODu”) a sad (“vEdanai”) mind (“manadu”), my heart is all aflutter)

The hair on the back of our necks bristles in response to the horrors of the uncanny. Transfixed by shock, awe, dread and fascination, we can neither dare the dangerous darkness nor turn away. The mysteries of the unknown take us into realms of transgression and taboo. Enthrallment and abhorrence mix in encounters with all that is alien and dispossessed. We face our own human monstrosities and the traumas that create them. We also meet the dark, nonhuman otherness of the collective unconscious; it threatens to possess us and can annihilate our sense of self. Whether we shudder in disgust, quiver in fright, or feel forbidden attraction, we are forced to more fully acknowledge the awful portent of ominous misfortune and confront the abyss. Only consciousness can break the spell.     Dream In my dream I was talking with my therapist on Zoom. The topic of our conversation wasn't clear, but I had the sense that my therapist kept misunderstanding what I was saying. He then did the "share screen" feature on Zoom to show me that he had been keeping a record on his computer of the different ways that I was wrong about who I thought I was. For example, he said that I thought that I was a kind person, but he had determined I was only kind 40% of the time. As he showed me this, a graph appeared across my face, and I had the sense that he had been spending our time together taking measurements of my face and wasn't listening to what I was saying. The dream then changed and I was outdoors standing next to a Native American man in traditional dress. The man was working with cloth. I approached him and he told me that he was working on creating a garment similar to the one that he was wearing that he was going to give as a gift to his son.   References Greg Mogenson. God is a Trauma: Vicarious Religion and Soul-Making (Amazon)  Lisa’s quotation from Thus Spoke Zarathustra, by Friedrich Nietzsche (Amazon). 

Kath (@kathleenwriting) and Dee (@phdee_vay) chat with artist feminist Sharlene Khan about the project of mothering. Khan chats with the MWA mamas about how she mothered, how she was mothered - both biologically and in other aspects of her life - and how these experiences have made her who she is today. Khan speaks about how mothering is about making something happen out of nothing and about the many emotions and experiences that make a mother, some unexpected. The episode takes on a different tone than previous ones with many moments of Kath and Dee transfixed by Khan's beautiful and sometimes sad and jarring stories.

Kath (@kathleenwriting) and Dee (@phdee_vay) chat with artist feminist Sharlene Khan about the project of mothering. Khan chats with the MWA mamas about how she mothered, how she was mothered - both biologically and in other aspects of her life - and how these experiences have made her who she is today. Khan speaks about how mothering is about making something happen out of nothing and about the many emotions and experiences that make a mother, some unexpected. The episode takes on a different tone than previous ones with many moments of Kath and Dee transfixed by Khan's beautiful and sometimes sad and jarring stories.

How often have we asked our parents or grandparents their version of an important time back in history whether it was a war, or a partition or even about a different era? But telling our history through the eyes of the people who lived it has made Indian Memory Project a valuable source for future generations and is now studied in academic circles. And to think of it, Anusha Yadav started it as an experiment in 2010. The photographer, book designer, curator and archivist was invited by The New Yorker to showcase Indian Memory Project on Instagram in 2015. Anusha also curated the first ever international narrative and image based exhibit on historical criminal investigations from the Indian Subcontinent. She has been awarded the ‘Honorary mention’ at the Prix Ars Electronica 2013 awards, an international award for excellence in Cyber Arts & online Media, the L’oreal Paris Femina Women Achievers’ Award 2013 and the Innovator of the Year – India Today Women’s Summit, 2014. In 2015, Anusha was listed as the top 21 photographers to follow on Instagram. She is also the founder of The Memory Company, a design firm that works on projects related to history and popular culture. Join in as we talk about how Indian Memory Project is continuing to shape how we experience history and how she views the role of her numerous other works. You can check out Maharani Talks on Instagram at www.instagram.com/maharanitalks MUSIC: Lights by Sappheiros https://soundcloud.com/sappheirosmusic Highlights: • When did your fascination with history begin? [02:15] • How has Indian Memory Project changed in these 10 years? [09:27] • When did you realise how big Memory Project had become? [13:11] . How has life changed since? [14:26] . Which era did you find most interesting? [18:26] . About her portrait series, Transfixed [25:08] . On her other project, Letters of Love [[34:55] . Role of Indian Memory Project in the future [36:33]

Zoe Hauptmann has become one of the most in demand bass players around with gigs like Missy Higgins, Ian Moss, Paul Kelly and Neil Finn, Justine Clarke, Elana Stone, Tim Minchin, Katie Noonan and many others. Growing up in a musical family on an apple orchid in Canberra, Zoe and her two brothers, Ben and James Hauptmann developed a deep love for the history and traditions of Jazz. Transfixed by their parent's record collection, the Hauptmann's were a ready-made trio with Zoe on bass, Ben and his guitar, and James on drums. As adults, the Hauptmann siblings have all enjoyed longstanding success as professional musicians and composers. As well as all the playing, the gigs etc, Zoe is also Creative/Artistic Director for SIMA, musical director for Australian Women in Music Awards, Artistic Programmer for Wangaratta Jazz Festival and founding member of Ettalong Jazz Festival. Zoe has always been passionate about addressing the gender imbalance in the music industry and still actively seeks to bring change. She also a mum to young children, a wife and avid surfer. How does she make it work? Ladies and gentleman, please give it up for Zoe Hauptmann.    Episode recorded 30/04/2020.    Intro music: Bang Bang - Lanie Lane (Zoe on bass). Outro music: Better Be Home Soon - Neil Finn & Paul Kelly Live (Zoe on bass).   You can find Zoe on her Facebook, Instagram and YouTube.   --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Click here to securely donate to The Gig Life Podcast. Your support is very much appreciated. Thank you.   https://www.thegiglifepodcast.com   You can check out The Gig Life Podcast socials on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter  

Claire and Filipe, founders of Madre Roca, met guiding in Torres del Paine National Park in Patagonia. Transfixed by Patagonia’s beauty, but overwhelmed at the mass tourism certain parts of the park received they decided to find a solution and thus founded Madre Roca, a tour and expedition company that has its roots in sustainable and environmentally friendly travel. Claire and Filipe could not fathom flying halfway across the world to wait in a line to take a selfie, their trips are highly personal and remote giving guests a chance to experience the raw and rarely seen side of the park. In this episode of The Occupation Wild Podcast, Courtney and Nick sit down with Claire and Filipe to talk about the incredible and diverse flora and fauna of the vast Patagonia region, what it’s like starting your own guiding company, the best practices of sustainable travel, and the joy of tailoring custom trips to each guests interests all while protecting this unique place for generations to come! Claire & Felipe www.madreroca.com https://www.instagram.com/madrerocapatagonia/

Latest Podcasts from River's Edge Church located in Newington, Sydney. Sunday’s message from River’s Edge Church Transfixed – Week 2 Pastor Katherine Fletcher shares on the difference between merely glancing at Jesus and truly gazing upon him in transfixed wonder.Read More → The post Transfixed – Week 2 appeared first on River's Edge Church.

Latest Podcasts from River's Edge Church located in Newington, Sydney. Sunday’s message from River’s Edge Church Transfixed – Week 1 Pastor Luke Fletcher shares on what it means to be focus our lives on Jesus and offer a sacrifice of praise.Read More → The post Transfixed – Week 1 appeared first on River's Edge Church.

1. Seeing the grace of God should amaze us--2. Being in covenant with God should influence us--3. Spending time with God should change us.

Have you ever watched a bald eagle resting in its nest? I watched for HOURS today! - Catryna

Have you ever watched a bald eagle resting in its nest? I watched for HOURS today! - Catryna

In which we find out that humans are prejudiced towards dinosaurs, learn that Ron walked out of Vice, and suffer through a painful vision of a saurian future, after spoiling the 1995 Whoopi Goldberg classic Theodore Rex and again forgetting to watch Super Friends.

If you would, turn to 2 Corinthians, chapter 3, and we will read through this passage. First, would you pray with me. Father, as we come to Your Word, we simply ask that You would open it to us. We ask that we might see Christ, that we might behold Him as He is, and […] The post Transfixed and Transformed appeared first on Christ Covenant Church.

Based on 2 Corinthians 3:18, my wife, Hayley, gave a talk to the women at our church encouraging them to be transparent with one another, to be transfixed on the glory of Jesus, and therefore be transformed. Source

Today's Bombshell (Bombshell Radio) Bombshell RadioThursdays 2pm-3pm ESTRepeats Fridays 1am-2am EST & Sundays 11am-12pm ESTstereoembersmagazine.comStereo Embers MagazineAlex Green #Interview w/ Maira Kalman#StereoEmbers, #podcast, #RadioShow, #AlexGreen, # #Nowplaying , #BombshellRadio, #Soul, #AlanaDavisAlana Davis Saw Bad Brains When She Was Twelve”Although you might not know it by listening to Alana Davis’ brand of sultrysoul, she’s a huge fan of hardcore. So much so, that at 12 she got a fake IDso she could see shows at CBGB’s. Transfixed by the power and truth ofthe legendary band, Davis became a lifelong fan. Although her original plan was to be the bassist in a reggae band, Davis ended up stepping upto the mic and the result has been a career punctuated by a Grammynomination, collaborations with Jay-Z and Pharrrell, and an ubiquitoushit that was all over MTV. In this candid and energetic chat Davis talksto Alex about singing Aretha Franklin songs in the shower, growingup in Greenwich Village and her new album Love Again. She also talks abouther penchant for statistics, hearing her music in Whole Foods and her musicalrelationship with her father.

“Alana Davis Saw Bad Brains When She Was Twelve” Although you might not know it by listening to Alana Davis’ brand of sultry soul, she’s a huge fan of hardcore. So much so, that at 12 she got a fake ID so she could see shows at CBGB’s. Transfixed by the power and truth of the legendary band, Davis became a lifelong fan. Although her original plan was to be the bassist in a reggae band, Davis ended up stepping up to the mic and the result has been a career punctuated by a Grammy nomination, collaborations with Jay-Z and Pharrrell, and an ubiquitous hit that was all over MTV. In this candid and energetic chat Davis talks to Alex about singing Aretha Franklin songs in the shower, growing up in Greenwich Village and her new album Love Again. She also talks about her penchant for statistics, hearing her music in Whole Foods and her musical relationship with her father.

Nancy Howard just wanted a quiet night at home. She pulled into the garage of her upscale home, got out of her car, and was about to head inside for dinner when an armed gunman grabbed her by the neck. The pair struggled. He shot her and left her for dead. But Nancy survived. Investigators were perplexed by the crime, but soon, the pieces came together. It was even stranger than they’d initially suspected. Then Brandi tells us about infamous teenaged spree killer Charles Starkweather. In just two months, Charles killed eleven people. His underaged girlfriend was with him the entire time. Starkweather’s horrific crimes won a place in pop culture. The crimes inspired the film Natural Born Killers, a truly terrible Bruce Springsteen song, and were mentioned in Billy Joel’s, “We didn’t start the fire.” And now for a note about our process. For each episode, Kristin reads a bunch of articles, then spits them back out in her very limited vocabulary. Brandi copies and pastes from the best sources on the web. And sometimes Wikipedia. (No shade, Wikipedia. We love you.) We owe a huge debt of gratitude to the real experts who covered these cases. In this episode, Kristin pulled from: “How to not get away with murder” by Michael J Mooney for D Magazine An episode of the podcast Swindled “‘They got you, didn’t they?’ Denton County woman tells prison-bound ex who tried to have her killed,” The Dallas Morning News “Love affair takes center stage in Carrollton murder-for-hire trial,” NBCDFW.com “Appeal denied in John Howard case,” Carrollton Leader “Trial begins for alleged hit man hired by North Texas man convicted of plotting to kill wife,” MySanAntonio.com In this episode, Brandi pulled from: “Charles Starkweather and Caril Fugate” by Marilyn Bardsley, Crime Library “Charles Raymond Starkweather” murderpedia.org “The Killing Spree that Transfixed a Nation: Charles Starkweather and Caril Fugate, 1958” by Lesley Wischmann, WyoHistory.org “Charles Starkweather And Caril Fugate Trials: 1958” encyclopedia.com  

I'm currently writing this note at a Starbucks.I have my headphones in, but I've turned off my music, because I am TRANSFIXED by the conversation happening next to me. A man is being laid off from his sales job unless he agrees to take another position in the company. It's high drama that's been going on for the last 15 minutes where the person who is being fired is fighting for his job. I'll keep you updated. This Sunday we're looking at a story that has some similarities to the situation on my right.Five sisters come before Moses, Eleazar the priest and all the leaders of the assembly to ask for something that's never happened before. They think they should be able to inherit the land of their deceased father, but in their society that was only available to men. Think about the bravery it requires to stand before a collection of the most powerful people in your system and ask them to change the way they've always done something. Imagine asking these powerful people to see a situation from your point of view when there isn't a single person like you making the decision! Sadly, I know that many of you don't need to imagine, but just remember your own experiences. ((He's currently exploring other positions in the company and weighing the pros and cons. It's amicable, but tense)) Questioning authority and the way that thinks have always been done is one of the bravest acts anyone can ever engage in. With few exceptions, the people who have enough power to change the systems are in their positions because of the existing rules. They have no incentive to change anything. It's a wonder that anything in our world ever changes without a revolution!((He's currently reiterating that they really don't want to lose him as an employee, but talking up the value of the severance package. There's some mixed messages.)) What we really want to look at this Sunday is the response of God to the questions of the five sisters. In this drama of the leadership and the challengers, where does God fit? God quelled the Korah rebellion dramatically earlier in the book. Is God always on the side of the existing power systems? What will God say this time and what do we learn about God's nature through this story? Don't miss out this Sunday! We'd love to see you. ((Ok, no firm resolutions right now, but I'm going to do some edits of the newsletter and give this another 10 minutes before pressing send. I think he should take the severance package. I think he can land on his feet at another company given his relationships in the business.))((I think they worked out a solution! He suggested a different position that they hadn't considered before and he could keep his same salary! Everyone wins! This is like an episode of "Full House"! But not an episode of "Fuller House". Enough with the reboots already.)) 

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Why all because of Alicia’s voice. Singing to school children while driving a New York City school bus, driver Alicia “Reygn” Patterson had the children transfixed, under control and in awe of her voice and the words she sang. Pretty soon the children started signing too. But then suddenly all NY City bus drivers were laid off. Terrified for a while, the mother of 5 prayed “Lord if you have a plan for me would you do me a favor and let me in on it?” The next morning she woke up writing children’s songs, but with a twist, in the education genre. She went on to write a musical to showcase the songs and casting it soon realized there was a market for what she was doing. In 2014 she started “Sound Through Music” with a goal to teach science with the aid of music to children. She pinned the hit play “At The Wave” that has played all over NYC including BAM and Off Broadway. Alicia has become a play-write, TV producer and a published author in this genre of media. Introducing the principles of sound then song to children while still young, the belief is this helps to encourage science awareness because they learn about sound waves, sound vibrations, amplitude and frequency. Plus they also learn the importance of sound and how it affects our everyday lives. Alicia and her team at Sound Through Music (see website in same name) believe that anything can be taught and understood when spoken to the children’s level. Not only will the students have lots of fun, but more importantly, they will learn.

This week, to introduce our upcoming video, we talk about the ins and outs of translation in all its variants.

Twin Peaks Finale - IT Movie Reaction - Stephen King Endings - Playing Destiny 2 - Colin Trevorrow is No Longer Directing Episode IX - JJ Abrams is now Directing Episode IX - David Lynch Comments on the Future of Twin Peaks - IT Director's Cut could be 15 Minutes Longer - Jon Hamm the voice of Boba Fett? - Ezra Miller Apologizes to Flash Fans - True Lies being Rebooted for TV - Logan sent to Academy Voters for Consideration - Let's Read Rotten Tomatoes! - Voicemail

Twin Peaks Finale - IT Movie Reaction - Stephen King Endings - Playing Destiny 2 - Colin Trevorrow is No Longer Directing Episode IX - JJ Abrams is now Directing Episode IX - David Lynch Comments on the Future of Twin Peaks - IT Director's Cut could be 15 Minutes Longer - Jon Hamm the voice of Boba Fett? - Ezra Miller Apologizes to Flash Fans - True Lies being Rebooted for TV - Logan sent to Academy Voters for Consideration - Let's Read Rotten Tomatoes! - Voicemail

This week, Lee and Josh chat about the end of summer, Lee's return to Pittsburgh to meet Burt Reynolds and visit various George A Romero landmarks, greedy convention attendees, meeting Clive Barker, working at West Coast Video, taking advantage of multiplexes booking so few movies, comic book ads, distribution frustrations, and the passing of Jerry Lewis. Plus, we discuss the movies screening August 25th - 31st: The Queen Of Spain, The Trip To Spain, Ingrid Goes West, Blood Honey, Babe, Don't Torture A Duckling, and Saturday Night Sinema!

Uh-oh, looks like Robin wants to introduce another term of art into the RPG design lexicon. Ken joins him in the Gaming Hut to consider system humility. Transfixed by the hypnotic gaze of Patreon backer Andrea Coletta, we shuffle into the History Hut to reveal all on the Rasputin phenomenon, as most recently echoed by […]

A Hillside ThawRobert Frost To think to know the country and not knowThe hillside on the day the sun lets goTen million silver lizards out of snow!As often as I've seen it done beforeI can't pretend to tell the way it's done.It looks as if some magic of the sunLifted the rug that bred them on the floorAnd the light breaking on them made them run.But if I thought to stop the wet stampede,And caught one silver lizard by the tail,And put my foot on one without avail,And threw myself wet-elbowed and wet-kneedIn front of twenty others' wriggling speed, --In the confusion of them all aglitter,And birds that joined in the excited fun,By doubling and redoubling song and twitter,I have no doubt I'd end by holding none.It takes the moon for this. The sun's a wizardBy all I tell; but so's the moon a witch.From the high west she makes a gentle castAnd suddenly, without a jerk or twitch,She has her spell on every single lizard.I fancied when I looked at six o'clockThe swarm still ran and scuttled just as fast.The moon was waiting for her chill effect.I looked at nine: the swarm was turned to rockIn every lifelike posture of the swarm,Transfixed on mountain slopes almost erect.Across each other and side by side they lay.The spell that so could hold them as they wereWas wrought through trees without a breath of stormTo make a leaf, if there had been one, stir.It was the moon's: she held them until day,One lizard at the end of every ray.The thought of my attempting such a stay!

A Hillside ThawRobert Frost To think to know the country and not knowThe hillside on the day the sun lets goTen million silver lizards out of snow!As often as I've seen it done beforeI can't pretend to tell the way it's done.It looks as if some magic of the sunLifted the rug that bred them on the floorAnd the light breaking on them made them run.But if I thought to stop the wet stampede,And caught one silver lizard by the tail,And put my foot on one without avail,And threw myself wet-elbowed and wet-kneedIn front of twenty others' wriggling speed, --In the confusion of them all aglitter,And birds that joined in the excited fun,By doubling and redoubling song and twitter,I have no doubt I'd end by holding none.It takes the moon for this. The sun's a wizardBy all I tell; but so's the moon a witch.From the high west she makes a gentle castAnd suddenly, without a jerk or twitch,She has her spell on every single lizard.I fancied when I looked at six o'clockThe swarm still ran and scuttled just as fast.The moon was waiting for her chill effect.I looked at nine: the swarm was turned to rockIn every lifelike posture of the swarm,Transfixed on mountain slopes almost erect.Across each other and side by side they lay.The spell that so could hold them as they wereWas wrought through trees without a breath of stormTo make a leaf, if there had been one, stir.It was the moon's: she held them until day,One lizard at the end of every ray.The thought of my attempting such a stay!

Dans cet épisode, retrouvez: les gagnants de Cannes! Les annonces de Fantasia! Le documentaire TRANSFIXED! Le dernier de Michael Moore ... Lire la suite

  Alon talks about his new film Transfixed, activism and action, walking in the shoes of others and how it can help us to understand the world in a new and more inclusive way. Film Synopsis Martine Stonehouse and John Gelmon are middle-aged underdogs, living with Asperger Syndrome.  Despite their social challenges, both dream of getting married, but straight-identifying John refuses to tie the knot until transsexual Martine gets gender reassignment surgery. Will Martine and John find the happiness together that they deserve? Alon Kol has worked in film and television for seven years as a director and editor. He recently directed the "Holy Threads" episode of The Naked Archaeologist for the History Channel. Kol has written, directed and edited his own award-winning films, which have been shown on television and at numerous festivals. He is also a senior film editor who has edited for broadcasters such as Vision TV, History US, and National Geographic. Transfixed is a feature independent documentary film produced with the financial support of the Canada Council, the Toronto Arts Council, the Council of the Ontario Arts and the National Film Board of Canada. Film Trailer BiographyAlon Kol has worked in film and television for seven years as a director and editor. He recently directed the "Holy Threads" episode of The Naked Archaeologist for the History Channel.  Kol has written, directed and edited his own award-winning films, which have been shown on television and at numerous festivals.  He is also a senior film editor who has edited for broadcasters such as Vision TV, History US, and National Geographic. ---------- For more information about my podcasting, writing and public speaking please visit my site here.  With thanks to producer Josh Snethlage and Mixed Media Sound   See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

10/07/2015 - Transfixed: An Image of Worship by Ben Witherington III

Prof. Sunil Khilnani profiles Nainsukh, the 18th century artist whose intimate and engaging portraits of a prince's life created a new vision for Indian art. In his paintings of his patron, Balwant Singh, Nainsukh departed from the rigid formality of traditional Indian painting. Instead he showed the prince in his most unguarded moments: having his beard trimmed by a barber, being mimicked by a performer, huddled ill and depressed under a bulky quilt, and writing a letter bare-chested in his tent. "It's an almost modern, instagram-esque familiarity" says Sunil Khilnani. The artist Howard Hodgkin, an appreciator and collector of Nainsukh's work, describes Nainsukh as "the first great modern artist of India". In his favourite painting, Balwant Singh and his pet goose stare at each other, both bird and prince transfixed. Prof. Khilnani tells the story of two men: one a painter with a unique talent to express humanity and individuality, warmth and humour; the other a prince who unreservedly, unselfconsciously gave himself to the artist as subject. Producer: Jeremy Grange Executive Producer: Martin Smith.

On today’s episode of Modern Notion Daily, we talk with guest Gillian O’Brien. O’Brien’s new book, Blood Runs Green: The Murder That Transfixed Gilded Age Chicago (University of Chicago Press, March 2015), tells the largely forgotten story of the murder of Dr. P. H. Cronin in the late 19th century. We also visit a taxidermy…

On today's episode of THE FOOD SEEN, Benjamin Sormonte & Elisa Marshall, opened, Maman, a SoHo bakery & café via South of France Papa Poule, rotisserie chicken française, as an ode to their childhood favorite foods, but really, it shows reverence to their mothers and fathers. Decorated with an eclectic and vintage aesthetic, mismatched custom furniture, a church benche and 1920's bread machine, with pastry cases full of chocolate chip cookies, croissants, quiches, and croque ‘maman', it's no wonder people come in flocks as if it were summer on the French Riviera. Transfixed watching poulet roti rotate, when you leave with your “to go” order, it feels transportive too, like walking out of a French countryside marketplace. Their parents should be proud. This program was brought to you by Bonnie Plants. “To me a home is something that's compiled with things that have memories and stories.” [15:00] –Elisa Marshall on The Food Seen

The Rev. Jennifer Quigley and Dr. Scott Allen Jarrett preach a sermon entitled "Transfixed with Bach". The Marsh Chapel Choir sings "Gott der Herr ist Sonn und Schild, BWV 79" by J. S. Bach and "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, BuxWv 184" by Deitrich Buxtehude along with service music and hymns.

The Rev. Jennifer Quigley and Dr. Scott Allen Jarrett preach a sermon entitled "Transfixed with Bach". The Marsh Chapel Choir sings "Gott der Herr ist Sonn und Schild, BWV 79" by J. S. Bach and "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, BuxWv 184" by Deitrich Buxtehude along with service music and hymns.

Sable Jak's magnificent "The Amber Room Hunters" graces the Sonic Society just as she has completed the series. Listen to an episode here and purchase the rest!We also give a final listen to episode 10 of The Witch Hunter Chronicles.