Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
67
Trying Not To Lie
IT MIGHT SOUND like I was just flitting back and forth between Kansas and Italy, but those were just two of the stops that I’ve talked about as I continued to travel and seek out talent for the next show. I’d been to Georgia, New York, Calcutta, Hong Kong, Brisbane, Rio, and Moscow. It was going to be a very international show, but I was having to spend a day between each stop just recovering in Areola and getting my head in the space for the next girl on the list. I watched recordings of my previous encounters and reviewed with the crew and family what I should be doing next.
And I didn’t have sex with all of them. Not like with Roxie. Once it was established that Roxie didn’t want a permanent place on my show or my ship, and had a very reasonable request for me, we went to bed.
No, that’s not quite the order. We fucked on the kitchen table. Then we went to bed and fucked there. Then we fucked in the shower. We fucked in front of the fireplace. Eventually, I lit a fire and we fucked in front of it again. We ran outside while the rain was still pouring down and then fucked on the front porch with water dripping off us. Annie did join us and we fucked all together before Roxie finally got her car and left. In the meantime, Peninnah went to work and bought a strip club in Des Moines. When Roxie got home, she had a new job.
I ended up back in Houston, which had been a regular stopover on my trips to see May. She was happily working on her designs for our space station/interstellar ship.
“How’s it coming?” I asked. I was still carefully maintaining a separation between The Bob and Cleveland Bob. As The Bob, I was getting daily reports on the progress and had made a few calls to smooth out the path for her. I let it be known that this was what I wanted and even the scientists grudgingly reviewed her designs, eventually becoming confused about them.
“Oh, it’s great, but I miss you. The preliminary station plans passed review, but now the hard part is to get the finals coordinated with all the departments that have to contribute to it. It seems like every time I need something, Presto! it appears. I was having difficulty with a materials list and this girl, Sally, shows up and introduces me to a new alloy that another division of The Bob’s company had developed. I have no idea how the stuff is made, but I had it run through various stress tests and it’s the lightest and strongest alloy that’s been manufactured. I guess it’s exclusive to our ship. It’s good that it will be so light. We’ll still have to shoot tons of it into space to build the station.”
“That sounds great. How about the power plant and engines?”
“Presto! An atomic engineer appears on the staff. He’s got some interesting concepts about compressing atomic fuel and channeling off only as much power as is needed at the time. I can hardly believe his estimates on output. It’s hard work and I’m crunching numbers absolutely all day long, but I’m so excited, Bob. Let’s go to my place.”
“Are you sure, May? I mean, The Bob is doing all this stuff for you and is really making things happen for you.”
“I won’t lie to you, honey. If I’d met him first, I probably would have fallen head over heels in love with him. But it’s hard to do that when I’m already head over heels in love with you.”
“Then let’s go to your place, lover,” I said.
I was close to ready to rename the whole mini-series Double Life. Only I’d need to have it be triple or quadruple. I was leading so many lives as I met and dated these women that I was sure I’d mess up and be the wrong Bob at the wrong time.
Fortunately, there were some who were an instant ‘no.’ Like the racist Lorelei. She wasn’t the belle in Georgia, but the boutique owner in New York. I walked into her shop with Lakshmi on my arm, out for a day of sightseeing and shopping. I thought we might find some nice gifts for the girls in this shop and get to know the owner informally as well.
After a few minutes of being ignored, I started toward Lorelei to ask a question.
“We really don’t carry any ghetto clothing here,” she snapped, looking at Lakshmi. “Just look at the posters around the shop and you’ll see what our girls should look like.” I glanced around. There were full-size posters of women in the lingerie offered for sale in the shop. Every one of them was white and blonde. I hadn’t seen a display like that in years. Something grated against my sensibilities. I turned to her.
“I see. So, you only cater to women with huge oversized tits. Well that definitely brings our business to a close.”
Lorelei huffed.
“You’re a decent looking guy who obviously has money. You could have any one of those white girls on your arm. You don’t need to eat dark meat.”
That was it as far as I was concerned. I reached in my pocket for a business card. It was simple and I’d not had a reason to use one before now. On the front, it had our show logo and a smiling picture of me in my other guise. It said, “To Boldly Go, starring The Bob.” On the back, it simply said, “You have been eliminated.” I took Lakshmi’s arm and led her out of the store as Lorelei spluttered behind me.
The thing is, if she watched the show and applied to be on it, she had to know that I had all races on with me. Whatever her intent, I didn’t plan to even show her shop or mention her name on the show. She didn’t need any advertising from me.
I took Lakshmi to dinner on the rooftop of our hotel where we could watch the lights of the city come on. It was lovely.
“I think you’ve been holding something back from me, Bob,” Mia said on my next visit to Italy.
There were lots of things I was holding back. And Mia was certainly holding a little something in reserve as well. She hinted at intimacy, but never quite got there. For my part, there were so many possible answers to that suggestion that I thought it best to just keep silent and let her proceed.
“I’ve looked into a couple of the references you gave me on temples built with magic. I must say it isn’t at all what I expected.”
“I’ve tried to give you some appropriate examples that I felt illustrated the concept. Of course, I’m not making an outright statement that magic was involved, only that it had the appearance of something magical,” I defended myself.
“But I think you know,” she said. “You’ve carefully avoided claiming the exact knowledge, but your statements about how such buildings were created have led me to believe that you know more than you’ve let on. I believe you know—or think you know—the actual magic that was used. Say to enchant the bricks of the duomo in Firenze or of the excavated temple in Mesopotamia. You want to avoid a witch-hunt, as do I, but I want to see the magic used. I want to know for sure there is a power that moves through the earth that is greater than our feeble efforts. Show me, Bob. Show me how the spell was cast on bricks to make them more durable and to weld them together.”
“Ah. Well, Mia, it’s like this. I don’t know for sure that the magic still works. It hasn’t been used in centuries,” I said. “It seems that as technology is developed that supersedes what could have been done by magic in a different age, the magic falls into disuse and then finally disappears altogether.”
“For example?”
“It was said that certain sorcerers and witches could fly and get to a place far away faster than any pursuit. Well, now all we need to do is get on an airplane. Who needs to fly? Though, I admit that I’ve sometimes wished I could fly, even though I have a pilot’s license for small planes.”
“But from that, I detect that you do know the spell, but haven’t tried it,” she persisted.
“I have access to certain ancient manuscripts which purport to have that knowledge.”
“And you can read them.”
I nodded. I was thinking it might be time to tell her I was The Bob, but really, the only thing that I’d revealed about The Bob that could be considered magic was my portal. And that was shrouded in mystery and widely supposed to be a television special effect.
“How about if you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” I think she meant ‘spell’ but I was certainly willing to exchange glimpses of other things.
“I think it calls for something special,” I said. “What would you say to a weekend away with me to someplace very private?”
“I would say yes under one condition,” she said.
I assumed she was going to put a stipulation on how intimate it was.
“And that is?”
“We could go away for a nice weekend someplace very private if we were already in an intimate relationship, don’t you think? Why don’t we go to your hotel, Bob?”
I think it was all the traveling around the world and all the keeping different characters straight as I met women that made me do what I did with my next contestant. Or it could have been the setting in which I found her. Sonia Lind was a twenty-seven-year-old PhD candidate in archaeology, completing her thesis at the Çanakkale University in Turkey. Yes, an American woman with a Swedish name, studying in Turkey. What’s more, she was completing her dissertation while assisting on further excavations of Troy.
“It’s been years since I was last here,” I breathed as I stopped to look at a bit of rock she was examining. She started and looked at me, then snorted.
“Couldn’t have been that many years, could it?” she asked. “You can’t be more than thirty.”
“I look much younger than I am,” I sighed. “Who wants to go around looking like an old man?”
“O-kay,” she said. “So, when was the last time you were here?”
“Hmm. I think it was with Alexander. He had a great fascination with Achilles and Patroclus. I showed him where the tomb was and he and Hephaestion placed flowers there.”
“I’ve heard that story, but while there is evidence of many wars in this area, there is nothing that points to an actual tomb of Achilles or legendary battle of Troy,” she said.
“Oh, there was, indeed, a battle of the Greeks against the Trojans over the trivial insult of Paris stealing Helen away from Menelaus at his very wedding. I’ve no doubt you disbelieve it because Homer made a mash of it and Virgil did little better. I brought Homer here to show him the site, but he was far more interested in heroes and gods than in history.”
“You brought Homer here. You visited with Alexander. You are such a liar,” she laughed.
“I assure you I am telling the truth, but you could never write it in your thesis. If the stones could talk, they would tell you the story,” I said.
“Really? What story would this stone tell, oh instructor of Homer?”
“Ah. This stone once knew Helen intimately,” I said. I could say that about nearly any stone in Troy.
“It is not shaped like a dildo. Or as contemporary archaeologists like to say, a ritual device of unknown use.”
“Oh, no, of course not. But this stone was part of the structure of the master’s bed in the households of Ilium.”
“So, this was part of Paris’s bed?”
“No. This was part of the bed of a local baker.”
“Now you have me intrigued. How did the bed of a local baker know Helen of Troy intimately?”
“She was a slut. One of the things that got her so excited about coming to Ilium with Paris was that it was a whole city of men she hadn’t yet fucked.”
“Oh, come now.”
“Seriously. She ran off with Paris so Menelaus would not discover that his new virginal bride was anything but virginal. While she was in Ilium, she discreetly worked her way through every man she came in contact with. Including the baker.”
“So, Helen was a slut, hence her favor with Aphrodite.”
“Shh. Please do not refer to My Lady Goddess as a slut. A goddess of sex and lust, yes, but not a loose woman. I can think of scarcely twenty men and gods Aphrodite had sex with. In a life of thousands of years. I don’t know how she managed such restraint. I couldn’t. Helen would have sex with twenty men in a month.”
“Usually, such beautiful women withhold sex from men in order to control them. They don’t need to sleep with so many.”
“Need in the sense that you use it is very different from raw lust. Helen simply never saw a man she didn’t lust for. With the possible exception of Menelaus,” I said.
“You seem to have great knowledge of the intimate affairs of Helen of Troy. How did you get this ‘knowledge?’ I’d like to know.”
“I was the baker,” I said. Sonia started laughing and then touched me. She basically started patting me down and I wasn’t sure if she expected me to return the gesture.
“You seem solid enough, so I don’t think you are a ghost of Troy,” she laughed.
“No. I survived.”
“Right. How?”
“I masqueraded as Odysseus,” I said. “He was killed in Aphrodite’s temple as I was collecting the priestesses on request from the goddess. I took on his shape and memories and was able to escape on his boat. That was a disaster, let me tell you.”
“Oh, so now you were the great hero, Odysseus!” Sonia laughed.
“The great hero Odysseus was a figment of Homer’s imagination as it was fed and fueled by Athene. The truth is that the Odysseus whose memories I grabbed from his cooling body was a coward and sneak. When the Greeks captured the city, many Trojans fought back. To escape the fighting, he hid in the temple of Aphrodite, hoping to get a little action from the priestesses. Being horny was one of the few things we had in common.”
“So, let me see, ten years of sailing around?”
“Constantly tormented by Poseidon and trying desperately to rid myself of several thoroughly disgusting crew members. Finally left the last lot of them on Circe’s island where she kept them as pigs and I continued on alone.”
“I don’t believe a word of what you are saying, but I love listening to your stories!”
“I could entertain you with them all night. Several nights. I collected a lot of stories in 4,000 years,” I said.
“Oh, you are an old man, then. How did you get to be 4,000 years old?”
“By living for 4,000 years, of course. Ever since the day the inept sorcerer Pinaruti summoned me from the primordial mass,” I recalled. Whether she believed me or not, it was actually rather refreshing to be able to tell the truth about my life instead of living a long series of lies.
“Summoned from the primordial mass? So, what are you, then?”
“I am a free demon, compliments of Pinaruti’s untimely death.”
“The only thing I find truly demonic about you is that you’re a consummate liar.” We walked through the ruins to the edge of the old city and I looked out at the lush farmlands below. Farmlands that were once the bloody battlefield of the Trojan War. One of them. “I can see you thinking up another story. The death of Hector? Achilles? The fabled horse?”
“Well, it’s a rather long story if you want it all. Are you certain you have time?” I asked.
“Time seems to be all I have at the moment. I’ve hit a stall on my dissertation and need to take a few days’ rest. How about starting with dinner in Çanakkale. Café du Port?”
“How convenient,” I said. “The hotel I’m staying at.”
“Hmm.”
I had a car waiting, so we didn’t need to wait for the tour bus. This was the only sure way I could get a camera person along with me in cramped quarters. We’d already installed remote operated cameras in both my room and hers. Of course, she didn’t know about that.
Dinner was lovely, with plenty of wine to accompany our meal. Then there was a luscious dessert with Turkish coffee. Then there was luscious Sonia.
“Bob the Demon—you know Bob doesn’t sound like a very demonish name,” she giggled.
“For the protection of the innocent, especially me, I have never used my demon name. Only the sorcerer Pinaruti has ever spoken it,” I explained.
“So, how does one go about commanding you. Who owns you?”
“I am a free demon,” I said haughtily. “No one owns me. I am not bound to anyone.”
“Hmm. I bet I could disprove that given enough time.”
“Well, come with me and you will have all the time there is.”
“Oh, no. I know that trick. The only time that is, is now. Therefore, to come with you would give me only this instant.”
“This instant repeated hundreds, thousands, millions of times,” I said. “That’s an interesting concept in Buddhism. All time is now. All things are one. To be one with the universe is to empty yourself of all and become nothing.”
“I would expect a demon to be more versed in Western thought than Eastern,” she said.
“That is only a Westerner’s viewpoint. You assume that because your church makes such a big deal about demons and there is so much literature about demons, that we are a Western concept. But every culture in the world has some concept of demons. They may not be called that, but they are creations summoned from the primordial mass, generally to do the will of their masters,” I explained.
“But you claim to have no master. How convenient.”
“For me, yes.”
“I’m just a wee bit tipsy, but the coffee has ensured that I will be awake for a long time yet. Are you up for having a late night with me? Perhaps all night?”
“Sonia, I can think of no better outcome of this encounter.”
We chose my room. It was on the top floor and had a small balcony overlooking the harbor. I also had a double bed. When I’d checked in before going out to meet Sonia—accidentally, of course—I had worked the basic spell on the bed that I’d always had on my beds. It would become as big as was needed or desired. A few touches from my wives and possessions made sure it was equipped with everything I might desire. There was champagne on ice, fruit and cheese, coffee, and an assortment of chocolates, all kept at a perfect serving temperature.
“You must at least have good connections to get this room. The option for this didn’t even appear when I booked mine. Two single beds, shower, toilet, and sink. I don’t really have a desk, but there is a chair that I can sit in while I write. This is quite comfortable.”
“How did you end up in this hotel rather than staying at the University?”
“I like my privacy. I have a study grant that allowed me to rent a decent room and this hotel has a nice monthly rate, even better than the individual rates. I do spend a bit of time at the University, but I came here more for the atmosphere than for the facility at the University. I just wanted to get a feel for the area I’m writing about.”
“What part of the Trojan War are you writing about?” I asked as we finally settled back and started kissing. I’d chosen to settle into the comfortable chair by the window instead of rushing her to bed. She lounged easily in my lap.
“Oh, I’m not writing about the Trojan War in particular. It is a sociology paper I’ve titled, ‘The use of gods to justify war and carnage throughout the ages.’ Troy just happens to be an example in which we have an array of powerful gods lined up on either side. Did you ever notice the gods themselves never directly participate in the battle?”
“Yes. It would be a kind of sacrilege to suggest that a god stooped to personally bloody his hands in a war. The god is used to whip the people up into a killing frenzy.”
“Yes, exactly. I intend to show… Mmm. Yes. I’ll show you that, too,” she murmured as I cupped her breast.
“I’ve an interesting theory about that. In fact, it has to do with the creation of gods themselves. If you take the example of Ninra at Bathra…” Her lips closed on mine and interrupted my train of thought as thoroughly as I’d interrupted hers.
“Tell me about fascinating god theories in the morning, Bob. Make love to me tonight.”
That was a suggestion I was only too happy to take. I was sure that in a saner moment, tomorrow or the next day, she would wonder at how brazen she was in coming to my room and asking me to make love to her. She might blame it on the wine. Personally, I thanked Pinaruti for whatever it was he had done in creating me that made me so attractive to women. It seemed to have nothing to do with what body I was shaped into. I could always find a woman to make love to.
We rolled around on the bed and moaned our pleasure as our clothing landed in piles on the floor. I exposed a body that was utterly delicious. I kissed my way down over full round breasts and teased at her nipples with my tongue. They were soon fat and hard as I continued my way southward.
I believe men often jump from the breast to the vagina, forgetting about all the delicious female flesh that lies between. I find that on many women, no matter their body type, this is an extraordinary erogenous zone. I’ve known women to climax just from having their abdomen caressed and kissed. Case in point, Sonia. She was gasping for breath before I ever reached her cleanly shaved pudenda.
I would need to remember to tell her about how hairy Helen was. That would entertain her. Tomorrow.
I wanted to milk out multiple orgasms from her while the coffee was keeping her jazzed up. Licking her clit, her pussy, and her asshole all drove her crazy, but when I inserted my tongue in her vagina and curled it up to find the spot on the roof of her canal I knew was there, she began tossing and humping and screaming so loudly that I withdrew momentarily to put a spell of soundproofing on the room. Then I dove in and licked until she was nearly comatose. She tasted heavenly.
When I moved up her body and nudged at her opening with my cock, she pulled at me.
“Yes. Fill me. Fuck me. Put it in meeee!” she squealed as my cock spread her channel and filled her. “Oh, my god. You fill me so much. I’m coming again. Oh, god, Bob. Do it. Pound me. Po…”
I slammed my mouth against hers and shoved my tongue in so she couldn’t finish that thought. In that position, I fulfilled her other desires, pounding another orgasm into her before unleashing my own. I continued kissing her as we came down from our climaxes.
“Never,” I panted, “ask a demon to possess you. We tend to take that very literally. I want you, but I want you as a free woman, just as I am a free demon. I want you to be able to pursue your dreams. To write your paper. To live your life. If you can live it with me, then I want you to come with me and see the stars.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m Bob. The Bob.”
She passed out.
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