Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
28
On Becoming a Woman
THAT TAKES ME BACK to a couple of thousand years ago, which was the whole point of my story with Liz. This was back a few years—maybe a hundred or two—after I’d parted ways with Issa. I’d been in India for quite some time, enjoying the sites and the people. I’d even taken time—with several of my women—to study Buddhism. I could see Issa’s hand in that easily. He told me he had been here before and studied the ancient and peaceful religion.
That was a funny thing to me. Buddhism is such a peaceful religion, and yet it honors its god of war, Skanda, or Lord Kartikeya. Skanda is the protector of the people and—I shuddered—the slayer of demons. Well, I’d killed one myself once. I determined to simply avoid contact with him.
Given an Indian makeover and some silent observation of customs, I blended in well with the populace and did not try to join the wealthiest or most powerful people. I was a trader. I used my boat to travel from island to mainland with goods needed by one or the other. And sometimes, I journeyed across the subcontinent on foot with a caravan bringing rare items from the coast to the people farther inland. It was a good life and I genuinely liked the people of India.
Occasionally, I would find a woman in a household who felt it was her duty and privilege to provide sex for the guest (me). Mostly, though, the natives of India were respectful of and possessive of their women, so I contented myself with slipping into the infinity room where there were dozens of women eagerly waiting for me to bed them.
“Buy me, Bob,” my lover said. I had gone to bed in the home of my client, Ravi. Not long after, his wife had joined me there.
“I don’t trade in people,” I said.
“Then buy me and set me free. I will still serve you forever.”
“Forever, Lakshmi, is a very long time. Why do you wish to escape from your husband?” I asked.
“He does not care for me. He took my dowry and gambled it away. Then he went to the temple Devadasi and spent the rest there to attract good luck. Since then, he has been a successful trader but prefers the Devadasi to his own wife. I languish in unfulfillment. Only when a guest arrives does he send me to be filled. And you fill me like no other. Buy me and take me away from here.”
It was not unheard of. In fact, I’d often purchased slave women I felt were being abused and set them free. Nor did they all immediately submit to me. Some came to me to ‘pay me’ for freeing them. Those I refused. Some ran away as soon as they were free. And some few had joined my harem when they discovered what a life of freedom in my world could truly be like. I wasn’t sure which category Lakshmi would fall into, but it didn’t make a difference to me. I negotiated with her husband.
“I can tell you are not satisfied with my offer,” Ravi said. “This is beautiful silk, but to trade, I must see a profit. If I pay more, I cannot afford to feed my household.”
I noted that he did not say family. Lakshmi told me there were no children in the house and she was the only wife. But he kept a dozen female servants, whom I could only guess served him in the ways Lakshmi was denied.
“I am a lone traveler,” I said. Not exactly true since I had arrived with a caravan. “My rugs have no company waiting for me when I set up my tent. I would give you this fine measure of silk as well as five tetradrachmas of silver if you will give me your wife, Lakshmi.”
“Bob, Bob, Bob. I would like to take you up on your offer, but other traders in the area would soon hail me as a dishonest man and I would lose all my trade. If you would have my wife in exchange for the silk, that I can give you. But no coins must transfer between us when a person is involved. I am not a slaver and would not be known as one,” Ravi said.
“I honor your commitment to honesty,” I said. “In honor of that and the fair trade you have offered me, I will donate five silver tetradrachma to the temple of Yellamma in your name. May the goddess grant you your heart’s desire.”
The deal was done. The temple gladly accepted my donation and I was nearly dragged inside to make a prayer while being drained of my semen, but I passed that privilege on to Ravi who happily spent the next month getting his heart’s desire.
“Bob, was I worth so much?” Lakshmi said as she waited naked in my tent.
“Lakshmi, your value has no price. Your freedom was assured as soon as I dropped the coins at the temple. Now you may dress and determine what the course of your life will be from this point forward,” I said.
“You do not want me?” she asked near tears. “Am I nothing to a man so wealthy as you?”
“Lakshmi, my desire is to dwell between your thighs. But you do not owe me for the gift of your freedom. You will not be forced into a marriage or a bed. You may travel or find a new husband or even establish your own household. But I will not take you only because you believe you owe me for your freedom. It would no longer be freedom.”
She sat on my sleeping rug for a long time as she contemplated what I had said. She made no move to dress, which I found rather distracting. She was a very attractive woman of about eighteen, and for all her claims of abuse in the household, it was obvious she had not been subject to hard labor or to beatings. I chalked it up to emotional abuse of not being valued for herself in his household. I promised myself that would never be the case in my household, with me or with any of my women.
As she sat contemplating her future, I opened a portal into the infinity room and my wives and concubines hurried into the tent with food and drink for us. Of course, they were all as naked as Lakshmi and the woman watched them intently as they went about their tasks, each pausing for a moment of loving kisses and touches with me before she returned to the infinity room.
“Bob, you are a great ojha,” Lakshmi said, using the local word for shaman or perhaps sorcerer. “I know that you must be pure of heart to work such magic as I have seen. My heart cries out to be the lover of such a man and to bring him joy all his days. I see you have many women who feel the same as I do. I would become one of them. Will you take me to your room beyond this door and install me as the least of all your women?” She prostrated herself in obeisance.
“Rise up, Lakshmi. Let us sit and dine and talk about what may be. Do you not wish to be free to choose any life you might want?”
“Would it not be my prerogative as a free woman to choose a life as a wife to the man I love?”
“Hmm,” I said, contemplating the life of a free woman. “In other words, freedom as you understand it includes the freedom to not be free?”
“Is anyone truly free in any other sense? I have thought about this all my life, as I listened to the teachings of a local Brahmin. At one point or another, we choose what we will be bound to or we are forced into bondage. No person is ever free without thought or responsibility save blessed Buddha. To imagine we are, merely points us to a deeper bondage.”
“Lakshmi, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. I accept you and will take you as my wife.”
That was a word that brought her great joy and she expressed her joy by pushing aside our table of food and planting herself on my staff of pleasure repeatedly.
For all my sojourn in India, Lakshmi was my wife when I was with people or needed an assistant. Like the other women, she stayed in the infinity room the rest of the time and, as a result, did not age.
Which brings me to the point of this story—I think. I was preparing to go out in the bazaar of a large city near the southern tip of the continent. I would be loading my boat with goods to trade up the east coast of India over the next few years. Of course, my little boat held much more than it appeared to, as I could put all my goods in the infinity room and then board the little craft.
Lakshmi was with me and just before I opened the tent, she grabbed my arm.
“Bob! You can’t go out there. Your horns are showing!” she cried.
“Oh! How long have I had this body? I seem to have lost track. I’ll have to put on a new look. Hold the flap open just a bit so I can see out from the back of the tent and I will choose a new body to model mine after.”
I had worked the transformation spell so many times over the past centuries that I had only to fix an image in my mind and with a few words, I could transform to it. I watched out the little gap Lakshmi made in the tent and watched the people outside. I finally spotted a man I thought would be good to replicate. He was obviously a merchant and I always made a few little adjustments on the fly. I began the spell, focusing on the image I wanted to portray.
Just at that moment, a woman passed between me and the man. Normally, that would make no difference because the image was burned into my mind. But this woman was the most beautiful woman I had… Okay, I know you won’t believe she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, since I had lain with some of the world’s finest women—including the goddess of love and lust herself. But she was so beautiful that it completely stopped my train of thought. She filled my vision with her beauty and as I finished the spell, I felt myself transform. Lakshmi turned to me and suddenly let the tent flap close as she gasped.
“Bob! Ah… What should I call you now?”
“What? Why not Bob like always?” I cleared my throat trying to get used to the treble tones of my new voice. I might need to adjust that.
“But… You’re a woman!”
“What?” I looked down at myself, past the very nice tits I had on display to the vacancy between my legs. “What?” I repeated. Caught as I’d been by the charms of the woman outside, I must have muttered the feminine form of the transform verb instead of the masculine. There was no mistake that I was, in every detail, a woman.
“What am I going to do now?” I asked myself as I sank onto the rug. My boobs bounced. Oh, blessed Aphrodite. Is this what they feel like to you?
“Bob, stop touching yourself. You need to dress appropriately or our shopping day will be wasted.”
“Dress. Clothing.” I opened the door to the infinity room and my concubines immediately started giggling. They filed through the tent, touching me. I was quite embarrassed and kept making futile gestures to ward them off. Eventually, they got the message and brought me fine clothes. I was nearly ready to go out.
“Bob, we need a man. It is not wise for two women to go through the bazaar unescorted. We could find ourselves on an auction block. Especially, looking as hot as you do. Did you have to become so beautiful?” Lakshmi asked.
“Send me out a man willing to escort two beautiful women through the bazaar,” I called into the infinity room. Really, it was ridiculous to think that I, Bob, needed an escort. I was sure I could handle myself.
Tony came out of the infinity room. I’d picked him up in Rome as a boy who was being picked on by several others because he was weak and nearsighted from reading so much. I’d asked him if he’d like to join my librarians and learn all the world could teach from books. He gladly accepted and once in the infinity room, blossomed into a handsome and strong youth.
“Wow!” he said when he saw Lakshmi and me. “Ladies, may I escort you through the bazaar?”
Well, that was what we called him for. We toured the area quickly and then went through at a deliberate pace, pausing at booths that especially interested me, and haggling for the goods I wanted. That was a problem.
“Now, young man, I can tell you are a man of sophisticated good taste, just by the women you keep. These rugs you are admiring are among the finest in India. Fine strong weave, and I will make you a great deal on them. Just thirty dinari each and you can take as many home with you as you want.”
“Thirty dinari each?” I exclaimed. “The whole lot of them would not bring thirty dinari in Chandra. We’ll give you ten dinari for the lot of them.”
The bastard pretended he didn’t even hear me. He just kept talking to Tony.
“What you don’t see here are the really special rugs I have behind the curtain. Why don’t you come inside and have tea with me? We can arrange a good deal on rugs I’ve imported straight from Arabia,” the merchant said to Tony.
“We have plenty of rugs from Arabia already. And every one of them is better quality than this rubbish,” I said. “If you don’t want to make an honest deal we can go elsewhere.”
“I have a tent behind the shop here where you can stow your women while we talk. They won’t be too soiled when we are finished and you will have a fine collection of rugs to take with you.”
I jerked Tony’s arm and he looked at me, suddenly aware of his surroundings. The merchant had been practicing a mesmerizing spell on him and I quickly did my best to reverse it. As Lakshmi and I pulled him away, he still glanced back at the rug display.
“Tony, snap out of it,” I commanded. “We’ll try that wine booth next. If it tastes good, I might be able to store a few casks of it for later.”
“Ah, wine for you?” the next merchant said. “Well, young master, I should ask to see your ID, but since you are in the company of your mother… and uh… other mother, I’ll let that pass by. Now this wine is still a bit young. It needs to age another five years, but it’s a good vintage. Here, try a taste.” He poured a bit into a glass and handed it to Tony. I snatched it away, took a drink, and spat it out.
“This wine has been left in the sun!” I declared. “I swear! Are there no honest merchants here?”
“Perhaps you would like to conduct your ladies to the bakers and grocers. You can leave them there and then we’ll have a nice drink and talk business.”
I was incensed. The scene was repeated all around the bazaar and we left without purchasing anything. Several had suggested Tony acquire a horse whip.
I spent the night in the infinity room, ranting about how unfair the people at this bazaar were as my wives and concubines looked on and giggled.
“Oh, Mighty Bob,” Penelope said bowing to me. “You are two thousand years old. Have you never noticed that women are invisible? Oh, you see us just fine when you want sex, but have you ever once considered having us go out to do the trading? I dare say, I had more experience in trade than you did when we met, but you did not even take me with you to the markets.”
“Is that so?” I exclaimed. “I’ve always treated you with the utmost respect. I ask your opinions. I depend on your advice. Am I such a tyrant?”
“No, dear,” Josie said, curling up on my lap. She was naked and I had a typical reaction. Except I had no prick to react with. It was very confusing. My nipples hardened as she caressed my… breasts. “You are simply a man—even though you now have a very sexy woman’s body. You should take this wonderful opportunity to let us teach you about how it is to be a woman.” Her hand was inside my sari and my breasts were tingling.
“But how will we gather the trade goods we need when we head north?” I whined. What was this? I could actually feel tears trying to fill my eyes.
“You can work another spell on Lakshmi,” Nimia said. “Turn her into a man and let her accompany you to the bazaar.”
“Thanks a lot!” Lakshmi laughed. “But still, if you turn me into a man, I might get to fuck this beautiful woman you’ve become.”
Oh, fuck!
Let me jump up to the third millennium after Caesar (AC). You know, the 2000s. Surprise! Still around. I have NEVER been opposed to any sexual act between two consenting adults. I figure a person’s sexual orientation is the business of no one but that person and his or her or their partners. Born with male genitalia but want to be a female? Cut ’em off and go for it! A woman who prefers women lovers? Lick that clit! A man who prefers male lovers? Suck that dick! Whatever floats your boat, as they say.
So, I could never understand what the issue was about trans men and women in the twenty-first century. Or about gay men and lesbian women. I didn’t make it my business to go around looking in everyone’s pants to be sure they were what they appeared to be.
Achilles at Troy had Patroclus. They made a cute couple and that may have been why Achilles spent six months in his tent without coming out to fight. And when Patroclus was killed, Achilles went a little insane. He not only killed Hector (and half the Trojan army in the process), but he dragged the body behind his chariot around the city walls declaring his vengeance and grief. It was sheer luck that Paris managed to shoot one of Apollo’s poison arrows and hit Achilles in the heel. But that was the power of Achilles’ love for another man.
Alexander the Great had Hephaestion. That was in addition to his wife (or wives). He was so moved by Hephaestion’s death that he drank himself to death. I could go on and on. Even King David had Saul’s son Jonathan. They made a covenant together and Jonathan stripped himself before David and gave him his clothes. When Jonathan was killed (and King Saul committed suicide), David’s lament declared, “Your love to me was more wonderful than the love of women.” David seated Jonathan’s son, Mephibosheth, at the table as if he were his own son.
The stories of women who loved women are older yet. My own women in Knossos were a testament to that, often preferring a woman’s touch to a man’s—even mine. The Isle of Lesbos, where women from all over the Mediterranean fled when they’d had their fill of men, lent its name to women like Sappho, who loved other women and were thereafter called lesbians. They were honored in Troy and were great allies. The great Amazon warriors had nothing to do with men at all unless they were ready to become pregnant. Then, like the praying mantis, after a man had fulfilled his function, he often lost his head.
What I’m saying is that when I was approached in a nightclub just a few years ago and asked if I would be interested in a very nice young man, I stopped to consider it. I’d long ago learned that a nice young man was a thing to be treasured. I’d just become so accustomed to women that I never considered a man as a lover and probably never would again.
Except during that span of a couple of decades in India in which I was a woman.
Josie, the little vixen, had my nipples standing upright on my proud, firm breasts. It was obvious that I had never had a child. They were the breasts of a sixteen-year-old, not of a mother. Well, at the time I took Lakshmi as my consort, she had been only eighteen. But she had no children and was not much accustomed to the rites of marriage, even though she was an enthusiastic lover. My woman’s body was, using today’s vernacular… Well, let’s just say I was hot.
I was also ripe for the taking. I wondered how much of my new body was truly a replica of the lady I saw in the market that caught my attention. I was sure she was of the Brahmin caste, as the light color of her skin would be a sure indication. Before I had really become accustomed to the new sensations my body was feeling, Josie had my clothes off me and several of my women were helping her explore my new woman’s shape. And, oh! Did their hands and lips feel heavenly! When Josie kissed her way down my body, paying special attention to my sensitive nipples, I thought I would pass out long before she reached the junction of my thighs. I had often bellowed out my release when my cock was deep in a woman who pleased me—as nearly all women I was deep in did—but the squeal that issued from my lips as Josie’s tongue first touched my clit was inescapable. Such a tiny bit of flesh to be so sensitive. I imagined every sensory nerve in my tongue, my lips, and formerly in my cock, had taken up residence in that pea-sized nub between my folds.
I wondered, frankly, if I could lengthen my tongue enough to lick my own brand new clitoris. I would never leave my bed. Thankfully, Josie was more than happy to loan me her tongue and I absolutely danced at the end of it. I could recognize the feeling of an orgasm coming upon me. My butt clenched and relaxed as if I were pumping semen into her mouth and my moan reached a pitch never before heard by dogs.
I was not prepared for it to immediately begin to rise again! As a man, the most likely thing for me to do after an orgasm was to sleep. But as a woman, I was ready to come again and again. It was only lack of stamina that caused me to finally fall off the peak and pass out.
“She’s a virgin!” I heard one of the girls squeal from between my legs.
“Don’t break it,” said another. “It needs to be given to her lover.”
“Does her tongue still satisfy as much as Bob’s?”
“Even more, I think,” said a voice I assumed was remotely attached to the clit I was licking. “I think she’s picked up some signals from the way we treat her clit.”
“She tastes so much better than Bob,” said a voice I assumed had just brought me to my most recent orgasm. “Do you suppose we can get Bob to make his flavor more like this when he returns to us as a man?”
“I simply hope that I can experience what he does when I become a man,” Lakshmi said beside me. I squeezed her breast hard and she squealed.
But that was the moment I first realized that the craving I felt in my body was only being aggravated by all the tongue action on my clit and nipples. At some point or another, I would want—no, desperately need—a man’s hard cock in my soft pussy. The thought made me shudder and I came again.
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