Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
47
Women!
I VISITED OLYMPUS once—or some part of it. I’d gotten to know Zeus early in my life, you know, when Ariane and I were living in a cave that he frequented on Crete. I think I absorbed as much from him by fucking the same woman as I did from anything he said, but he was tolerant of my ignorance and did a lot of patting me on my horns like I was his kid.
Well, if he had fucked one of his women while he was in the form of a goat, I suppose I could have been the result. Those recessive genes come back to haunt you, like they did with the Minotaur.
Anyway, my trip to Olympus was after I’d had my first encounter with Aphrodite. I know that because I recognized her, though we didn’t get a chance to talk on that visit. He sat down with me and had some muses or demigoddesses or something serve us a lot of food that seemed to be laced with an aphrodisiac of some sort. While we were sitting there talking about life in the world, we both sprouted erections as we were eating. He sighed.
“It happens every time. If Hera’s not around, one of the sprites will lace my food and then come and jump on my cock. It’s like a game with them. Of course, I never let one of them bear a child. Hera is actually quite tolerant of the ones she knows. It’s when I fool around with someone she doesn’t know that she goes ballistic. For a god, I’m henpecked, and I’m a victim of my balls. What am I supposed to do when I’ve got a hard on and this cute little nymph comes in with no clothes on?”
As if on cue, two little nymphs glided into the room, both naked as the day they were born. They had an ethereal beauty about them as if they might dissolve and float away on the breeze—if there’d been any breeze. They calmly approached god and demon and parted our robes. Then smiling at us, they settled themselves onto our cocks and proceeded to fuck, slowly and languidly. At the rate my nymph was fucking me, this could take forever.
“Now, what I was going to tell you when I called you up here, was that you should always have an exit strategy. I’m already looking at getting out of the deity business, myself. Olympus is big. As big as that infinity room of yours. I’m going to create a nice little retirement palace about a million miles from here,” he said. I checked to be sure he was getting fucked like I was. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying, but he seemed to have no trouble talking about his approaching retirement while being fucked by a truly delicious morsel of immortality.
“Exit strategy. Right,” I said.
“Now take a look at this. What do you think of my palace plans?”
He was consulting me as an architect? I’d built a few nice palaces and temples, but nothing along the scale of what he was showing me.
“That’s nice,” I said. Brilliant conversationalist while I’m being fucked.
“What would you do to improve it?” Zeus demanded. I forced my attention to the three-dimensional plan he was showing me.
“Well, with the likelihood that you’ll have a lot of women around all the time, you should include a place where they can go when you don’t want them,” I suggested.
“When I don’t want them?”
“Well, I’ve found it can be pretty exhausting to have a few dozen women who all want your cock at the same time. I discovered that if I have separate quarters for my harem, with individual rooms for them, then they have a place to go when they really want to get away from everyone,” I said.
“When they want to get away.” Zeus looked puzzled, as if he’d never had a woman who wanted to get away for a while. Well, maybe his goddesses and immortals never had ‘that time of month.’
“The truth is that I like a rest occasionally, or just want to be with my favorite for a while. I want all the others to feel like they’re wanted, just not right now. So, I tell them they have a retreat and then when the time is right, I make a subtle suggestion that everyone should retreat for rest and rejuvenation.”
“I see. So, it’s really for you, but you convince them it is for them. Clever. You’re getting smarter. Now tell me what else.”
“When I did that temple for Ninra and Namri, I put in a big pool out front. I put one in front of the hanging gardens for Nebuchadnezzar and he loved it. It makes the palace look so much more regal. I’ve put a pool in at my house in the infinity room. The women love it and they’re always naked when they’re out enjoying the pool,” I said.
“That makes a lot of sense!” He turned to the nymph who was posting on his cock. “How would you like to lie naked beside my pool, little one?” She nodded vigorously.
“Now… About your exit strategy,” Zeus said, directing the conversation back to me. The palace model disappeared. “I could invite you here to Olympus permanently. You’d need to move before I retire, but you could bring your room with you.”
“How soon do you plan to retire?” I asked.
“There are lots of things at work in the world. Let me tell you that becoming king of the gods was no simple matter. We battled the Titans for ten years—just the six of us. When we started the war, we had no hope of winning, but the alternative was to be unmade—returned to the primordial mass. We were joined by several of the Titans who were also ready to rebel against the tyranny of Kronos. I’ll tell you, though, chopping that bastard up into little pieces and tossing him into Tartarus gave me no end of pleasure. I tried to reconcile with most of the other Titans, but some were just beyond redemption,” Zeus said.
“That must have been a hard time,” I said. I was having a hard time holding back coming by this stage and wished Zeus would come to the climax, so to speak.
“The thing is that there will be a succession. Some other god will rise and I’d rather not get caught in a fight like we had, when it’s inevitable that I’ll lose and a new age will be ushered in. So, I’d say another thousand years or maybe fifteen hundred on earth and I’ll close the doors on my palace and just stay there. I never much liked people anyway.”
“I see. Gee. It doesn’t seem like such a long time. I mean, I’m only about 600 years old.”
“I was just floating the idea by you. The thing is, you need to figure out how to retire as well. And, for your own sake, stay out of the wars with the new generation of gods. They’ll ignore you like I ignore Hyperion if you don’t raise a stink. Like that idiot Prometheus did. I mean, really, giving humanity fire was planting the seed of our overthrow. There’s no stopping what they call progress now. Before long, they’ll all think they can ascend to Olympus instead of being content with the Elysium Fields. Or Hades if they are worthless pieces of shit,” he said.
“Those are the ones who always seem the most likely to aspire to heavenly places,” I agreed.
“Anyway, you need to find a place where you can take your infinity room and retire to it where no one will ever find it. Your little look-away spell will keep people from discovering it for a while, but sooner or later someone will stumble on it and you won’t ever be safe again.”
I thanked Zeus and saw him wrinkle his forehead, a sure sign he was about to come. With a great sigh of relief, I filled my little nymph with enough spunk to float a ship. She wiggled all over my body in satisfaction and then floated away. I found I was back on my little boat, floating toward my next great adventure in Troy.
Ever since that little adventure, I’ve been on the lookout for that place I could hide the satchel and crawl in—to retire.
“Do we really have to know physics just to drive the ship? Can’t we just put it in gear and floor it?” Julie whined during our training session on astronavigation. Depend on Julie to use that comparison. She was a fast girl. As in a racecar driver. She came to us at the age of twenty-three having already won two Formula 1 championships.
I admitted that the class on astronavigation was a bit of overkill for the cruise to Mars. Most of the class was about determining our timing and trajectory from earth to Mars. But I was laying the foundation for interstellar travel. I wasn’t sure how much we’d need after we bypassed Mars and headed to deep space, but I figured we’d better have the course.
“Oh, no, Julie. Don’t worry. You’re doing great! You know, what we’re doing is getting in the driver’s seat and figuring out where the gear shift is and how to operate the clutch. Even in a hot car, you have to point it down the track and keep it in your lane. Here, let me show you again,” Paul Alford said, sliding his chair up close beside her. Hmm. Maybe it was just a little more than called for to put his hand on hers to guide the mouse. She didn’t seem to mind. I tried to stay focused on the task at hand.
When the class was over, we all prepared to go back to the mansion in our private bus. I glanced back when I got on and saw Julie kissing Paul, then rushing to join the rest of us.
Julie was a sweetheart and not at all what you’d expect. She was twenty-three years old and cute as a button. She had rusty blonde hair cut in a bob, dimples, bright green eyes, and beautiful straight white teeth. She was only about five-three and probably weighed 120. But this little girl drove Formula 1 racecars on the track at speeds exceeding 225 miles per hour. She reminded me a lot of the policewoman, Tracy Holmes.
I’d had ample opportunity to get to know Julie’s smoothly shaved pussy with both my tongue and my cock. She usually wore a tight sports bra, but when she let those girls loose, she was a real knockout! I tried to understand the feelings of jealousy that I felt a pang of.
I am not overly possessive of my women. Except my possessions and my wives. And in the case of my wives who were not residents of Areola, I had occasionally provided the means for some of them to get pregnant with another man. Like Bao, Esmira, and Cali. My wives in Areola—Nimia, Penelope, Lakshmi, Esmeralda, and Peninnah—were a different matter. They all knew that having children could start aging and the five of them all intended to stay young and beautiful until their demon husband could no longer get an erection. May Zeus forbid.
My possessions—Josie, Pari, Princess Agora, Maya, and Liz—were mine and mine alone. I treated them as the precious possessions they were and did not loan them out. And because they were possessed, none of them ever thought about having another lover. Male lover. Since I often thought about women, so did they.
My priestesses, of course, had set their own rule and thrived on it. Not only did they not tolerate the touch of another man—or any man for that matter—they made love only to demon Bob in his full goat form. They wouldn’t even allow me in the temple if I was in human form.
And then there was Zhi. I did not possess her. I did not marry her. She wasn’t a priestess. Yet, such utter devotion to me bordered on—no, was equivalent to—the worship of a god. No man entered her mind, and very few women. She loved me beyond reason.
My other concubines and others in the palace, who were occasional playmates but hadn’t decided yet where they fit, were free. Most had other lovers and some were even married with nice husbands and families. Once they had children, they began aging and were likely to move out to be with their mates.
So, feeling jealousy when Julie kissed Paul disturbed me.
Later that night, Julie crept into my bed and passionately made love to me. She was an energetic lover, almost as happy to have my tongue in her smooth quim as my cock. Almost. She happily rode on my pole and just as happily lay back on the bed to let me ride her. Any position was a happy one for Julie.
“Now, my love,” I said when we were sated. “Tell me what has made you so passionate tonight.” As if I didn’t know.
“Oh, Bob, I’m a horny bitch and I kissed that instructor Paul and now I know you will eliminate me from the crew because I can’t remain faithful to you. I don’t want to leave the crew. Please, Bob, don’t get rid of me.” She clung to me and sniffled as I considered what she had to say. Truthfully, I’d considered her a shoo-in for a slot on the voyage. I was ready to take her now. But…
“What about Paul?” I asked gently.
“I really, really like him,” she said. “He’s smart and handsome and knows racecars. We can talk for hours.”
That was significant new information. She’d obviously been spending time with Paul before the kiss I observed today. I wondered if our cameras had footage or if they’d deliberately turned a blind eye. I didn’t like the feeling of suspicion. I knew an infrared camera and microphones were even trained on my bed. I’d directed the installation.
“Then how will you feel when we leave earth and everything behind? Do you think you will be able to leave Paul?” I asked.
“Um… Couldn’t you make him part of the crew?”
“You think I should eliminate another of the women so he can have her place?” I demanded, a little more harshly than I intended. She cowered next to me and was silent a long while.
“Where do they go at night?” she finally whispered.
“What? Who?”
“Your wives: Peninnah, Penelope, and Liz. And the others who show up each day to work and attend our classes. I see them all arrive at the mansion as if they’d been in your room all night. I see them all come into your room at night. But look. They aren’t here. Where do they go?”
“You are treading on dangerous ground, Julie,” I warned.
“You could have just told me they have private quarters on the other side of your master bath, you know. But you warned me, instead. I don’t think I’m the only one who has noticed. Is that what you intend to do with us? Make us disappear when you eliminate us? Bring us out of your secret pocket to play our parts and then put us away at night? You are training many more people on the operation of the ship than you plan to choose as your crew. And how do you plan to keep the camerawomen on the ship? I’ve looked at the ship diagrams. They don’t show more than the dozen compartments that it would take for you and your family and the six girls you choose to take with you. Isn’t there someplace you could put Paul, too?”
It was more serious than I thought. Julie had captured the essence of what we were, in fact, doing.
“Will you do whatever is necessary for me to make this exception, Julie? Paul might choose not to come with us when he discovers the truth. I can eliminate you from the competition and still take you with me. But would you be satisfied with just me? I won’t force you, but I’m not sure I can share you, either,” I said.
“Bob, you already know I will do anything for you. I’ll fuck you; I’ll fight for you; I’ll leave earth behind for you. Is it such a huge favor I ask of you to let me have my diversion?”
“I need to think about this. It involves more than just you and Paul.” Julie settled into my arms and went to sleep.
I did not.
Back in my acting days in Greece, I was sort of married to Delphia, a groupie who hung around the Theatre of Dionysus. I say sort of because… Well, it’s difficult to describe. It was a theatre thing.
I’d enjoyed her company several times after performances. She was a classical Greek beauty. If you’ve seen statues of, say, the Caryatids on the Acropolis who support the porch of the Erechtheion Temple—remember I told you about building a temple to Athena for Erechtheus, the king who ruled only the Acropolis and not all Athens?—well, they are perfect images of the ideal Greek woman. I didn’t sculpt them. The porch was added six or eight hundred years after I built the original small temple. Most of the Erechtheion Temple was added on, each time another god needed to be honored. Originally, it housed a lovely wooden sculpture of Athene.
As I was saying, the Caryatids are statues of women who support the portico on their heads. Each one stands straight with one knee bent forward as if they were modern-day models showing the latest fashions. Which I suppose they were in their time, modeling the chiton dress so nicely. They are the idealized Greek woman.
And so was Delphia.
This was during the time when women were not allowed on the stage at Athens, so she was backstage to act as a model for building up the male figures who acted female roles so their chiton would fit correctly. I was far more interested in the model than I was in the actor. It turned out she was just as interested in me.
We met after the show and had a very good time. In fact, such a good time that we met after nearly every performance I was in. And one day, we met in front of a magistrate to record our marriage.
But Delphia had a business to run. She’d come into the theatre as a fashion consultant and ran her fulling business outside of town. That’s a business where woven wool is washed, shrunk, pressed, and sometimes felted. It stinks and was not allowed inside the city precincts. She also dyed the cloth and often came home after a few days’ work with her fingers stained and a strange smell about her. All my work was in town, so she would usually leave after my performance and our night together, and return to her business for a few days, then come back to town to be with me for a few days. It worked well for us, and on days when I had a performance and she was not in town, she had no objection to my choosing another groupie for a night romp.
Of course, I often spent those nights in the infinity room where I had plenty enough groupies to satisfy the horniest old goat.
You might ask how a fuller qualified as a fashion consultant for the theatre. Well, that was the unique thing about the chiton. It was really just a big square of wool. Delphia dyed the fabric and sold it to women, showing them ways to tie, pin, and belt the square into interesting configurations. All those vase paintings and statues you see of Greek women? They’re only wearing a square of wool pinned at the shoulder and belted. Delphia’s wool was known as the softest available—which was good for sensitive nipples.
All went well in our life for some years when I started noticing a change about Delphia. She was gaining weight. Even as far back as four hundred years before Caesar, women were sensitive about their weight and men learned quickly not to mention it. Delphia had no such qualm.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, Bob. You really don’t need to be so quiet about it,” she said as I plowed into her from behind. It was a better position with the belly she was growing.
“Uh, yes. You have been gaining a little weight,” I said hesitantly.
“Well, that happens when a woman is pregnant.”
I stopped in mid-stroke and did a full evaluation of my reproductive abilities. No. My sperm were turned off. There was no way I had impregnated her.
“Whose child is it?” I demanded.
“You mean besides yours and mine? Well, it’s Paulus’s, of course.”
“Who is Paulus?”
“You don’t know? I thought you knew when we married. He’s my other husband.”
“Your other husband? Since when do you have another husband?”
“Oh, at least a year before I met you. You can’t imagine I’d live alone out in the country where my mill is. Bob, are you really saying you didn’t know that I have a country husband and a city husband?” she asked in amazement.
I was amazed as well. How could I not have realized she had another man in the country? I was an idiot! Zeus agreed.
“I can’t believe you have someone other than me!” I said.
“Oh, come, Bob. You have other wives. You aren’t that good at hiding things. If a man can have two wives, why shouldn’t a woman have two husbands?”
Well, yes. Philosophically, it made sense. And I truly cared for Delphia. I had heard her mention Paulus a number of times and assumed he was her partner in the fulling mill. I hadn’t realized he was her partner in bed. My male ego was hurt.
Of course, things changed between Delphia and me, but not all in a bad way. I gradually became accustomed to fellow actors and friends congratulating me on the pregnancy of my wife. And when little Theo was born, I doted on him as much as any new father, even though he traveled to the country to be with his other father.
I was happy to have never actually met Paulus. But as long as he was out of sight, he was easy to forget about.
Theo grew into a fine boy and I taught him all I could about the theatre, just as Delphia and Paulus taught him about cloth. He was eleven years old when he arrived at my house in Athens alone and crying.
“Papa Bob,” he sobbed. “Mama and Papa Paulus… There was a fire at the mill. They were in there. They died.”
Oh, no! My precious Delphia! I wrapped my arms around Theo and wept with him.
This story isn’t really about Theo. You can ask him for more details if you want. He’s still living in Areola. And I’m very proud of the man he became. The story, though, is about having lived through a marriage in which my wife had another husband as well. And it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, I still get a little choked up when I think of Delphia.
Perhaps letting Julie have Paul wouldn’t be that bad a thing at all.
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