Ep 463 Infernal Machine by Elizabeth Schechter

This episode is "The Princess and the Penis" by Linn Thomas, narrated by The Belching Cow.  World Naked Gardening Day For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Once upon a time, not all that long ago and in a land not that far away, lived a delightful princess. All who met her, both men and women immediately fell in love. Sometimes individuals became infatuated with the princess because of her delightful wit, her kind words or crystal laugh. Others found themselves seduced by her keen intellect, sharp insights and wide knowledge. And of course, she was beautiful. Long luxurious hair, soft clear skin combined with a luscious body. Whether the visitor fell in love with her charm, her intellect, or her body, in all cases, her presence stiffened any man’s cock and made any woman’s pussy wet.

This month's patron-funded story is "The Bacteria that Evolved on the Trip to Zebulon 83" by Patrick Mannus.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   Charlie didn't think much of the reports of cancer-related deaths on the Zebulon-83 colony ship. They were sad to hear people had died, sure, but to Charlie, the deaths weren't personally more upsetting than the radiation-related leukemia deaths after the toxic train spill. If anything, they were more pissed about the train spill deaths because that was the government's negligence at work. The Zebulon-83 deaths seemed like just bad luck as a result of transit-related radiation exposure during cryopreservation. Charlie took slightly more notice when it came out that all the Zebulon cancers were prostate, breast, ovarian, and endometrial. Not so much because that meant anything to them scientifically speaking, but because it was just kind of odd. Charlie worked in IT, but even they could recognize that it was unusual for the cancers to cluster like that. When it came out that the cause of the unusual cancer clustering was unregulated growth of hormone-altering intestinal bacteria that had evolved during the flight to Zebulon-83, and that said same bacteria could be directed to change people's genders more effectively than any hormone supplements, Charlie sat up and took notice. They sent the article to a fellow comms satellite IT specialist. They didn’t work for the same company, but even though it was a growing field, there were still few enough of them that you just knew the other commsatties. And Charlie had always kind of had a crush on Morgan. Morg. Check it out. Interesting tech coming out of that Zebulon-83 colony ship. When they’d met at a commsatty conference, which was really just a place to use illicit and non-illicit substances and talk shit about the companies they worked for and all the exploits they had over the companies if they were ever wrongfully terminated, Charlie had been drawn to Morgan. They just got the sense of a kindred spirit. When your body was not always the right fit for your soul, you could see the same mismatch in others. And Charlie had seen that in Morgan.  

This month's patron-funded story is The Fishbowl by C Lenz.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. Audiobooks narrated by Vivienne Ferrari For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   “This is a bit public, isn’t it?” “As public as it gets, babe,” Lily replied. The small plexiglass dome affectionately known as the Fishbowl jutted out of the space station, letting them float above earth. The observation deck was theoretically available to all employees, but most didn’t spend their time off looking at a planet they may never set foot on again. “All those billionaires still rich enough to live on the planet can see us.” “My parents aren’t billionaires, and they live down there,” Cass said. “Well, maybe they shouldn’t have kicked you out. Then they wouldn’t be subjected to this show.”   Lily ducked her head down. In zero gravity, she had to keep her arms wrapped around Cass’s thighs to keep herself in position.        

This month's story is "Blackberry Picking" by Daniel Stride, narrated by Calyopi Utterances. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   The baking heat of late summer was upon her, and the flies were out. Iris wiped the sweat from her brow, and stuffed another blackberry between her teeth. She knew she shouldn’t. The more blackberries she ate herself, the longer she’d take to fill the basket, and the longer she’d need to stay out in the sun. But she couldn’t resist the temptation. The berries hung amid the thorns, juicy and succulent. She thrust her hand back into the bush, and grabbed a couple more. The thorns scratched, but the prize was worth it. The sweet, tart taste ran over her tongue. Delightful. But her fingers were now sticky with berry juice, and the sweat was running again. And there were the flies, hovering and buzzing. Never mind her miserably half-full basket. This was hotter than last summer, by far. Or any of the seventeen other summers of her life.  Maybe it was the terrible lack of wind. Other times, the salty tang from the south – the sea lay two days’ donkey-ride from her village – might have relieved Iris’ pain. But today? The air hung like a hazy and listless shroud. To be trapped outside on such an afternoon, why, it was like being cooked alive inside a brazen maze. A maze choked with bushes and thorns. Iris gritted her teeth. A plan formed in her mind. The festivities of Sungit were yet tomorrow night. She could nap in the shade for a few hours, at least until the coolness of evening. Then she’d fill her basket, and hurry home. Her mother might grumble, but her mother wasn’t out in the afternoon heat. She was bowing and scraping before Sungit’s stone altar, along with all the other mothers. So long as Iris delivered a basketful of blackberries by nightfall, that was what mattered.  Besides, the visiting Priest ate half the fruit offerings before the ceremony, and the goddess never seemed to mind. Sungit felt generous these days. The harvest had not failed in a full twelve years, and the grain ran plentiful.   Iris’ heart fluttered, as she glanced around her. There was no-one in sight, nor could she hear anyone talking or singing. Perhaps everyone else thought similarly: the day was just too hot.    

This month's patron-funded story is In the Tower Tangled by Lynne Sargent.  It's narrated by Jo Bennett. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's patron-funded story is Leviathan by Steven Guy.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook or press down his tongue with cord? Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook? Will he make many pleas to you? Will he speak to you soft words? Will he make a covenant with you to take him for your servant forever? Will you play with him as with a bird, or will you put him on a leash for your girls?” Job 41:1 - 5 A week before Lent a star fell from heaven. The light of its burning lit the sister’s bedroom through their window and woke them from a deep and dreamless sleep. Christine leapt from the bed and pressed her face to the window.  A miracle, she cried. A miracle that we should see a star fall. Her sister stayed by the bed and took to her knees in prayer. It has landed not far, Christine shouted. Perhaps in the pasture near to the river. Come. Run. Let us find it. A star falls from heaven - it will be of silver and gold. We are newly rich. Her sister shook her head and remained upon her knees. It is an evil omen sister, she whispered, to see such a star fall. Close your eyes. Remember your prayers. But Christine took her sister by the hand and led her out, both still in the thin shifts they slept in. Spring was not yet in bloom and it was cold. Their breath hung in a thousand tiny crystals as they ran to the pasture near the river. The smell of smoke was in the air and just as they ran out of breath and began to walk, they found a man – or rather, they found a man of sorts. He lay on his side at the end of a deep furrow that smelled both a little of wet earth and of a blacksmith’s forge. The furrow was no doubt from the mighty fury of his fall and he was unconscious and curled up like a child. His skin was a peculiar red in color – he seemed to be burnt or dyed to some shade between ochre and aubergine. His feet were blackened stumps and his hands black too, save for his palms which were the grey color of ash. On the whole, he looked charred, like the wood at the bottom of the charcoal maker’s pit, and yet his chest rose and fell. He was alive and breathed like a man.    

This month's patron-funded story is Dragon Enough by Genevieve Amsterdam.  It's narrated by Vic. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  

This month's free story is "Sacrifice" by J Aster. It's narrated by Chooch Schubert. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's patron-funded story is "Apple of Sodom" by Plangdi Neple.  It's narrated by Bisi Alimi. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class