Bob's Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon--Volume 1

Copyright 2022 Elder Road LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher.

Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be submitted online to: Elder Road LLC, elderroadbooks@outlook.com.

Design by Nathan Everett

Cover Art by Igor Faun, ID770543041, licensed from Shutterstock.com.

First eBook Edition

ISBN 978-1-955874-35-9

Contents

Volume 1: Before Caesar (Mostly)Prologue 4

Part I In the Beginning 7

1 My Inept Adept 8

2 A New Me 12

3 The Dikteon Cave 19

4 The Pain of Being Handsome 26

Part II Architect for a God 36

5 Cast into the Sea 37

6 Build Me a Temple 46

7 Wedding Bells 56

8 Build It Better 66

9 An Heir to Justice 75

Part III Gifts from Greeks 85

10The Possession 86

11A Code to Live By 95

12 Shipwreck 105

13 The Fall of Troy 114

14 My Odyssey 122

15 Homecoming at Last 131

Part IV Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition 141

16 Churches and Demons Are Good Company 142

17The Wrath of a Woman Scorned 151

18 In 1492, Columbus Sailed… 159

19 The Greatest Demon 168

20 The Storm 177

Part V To Conquer the World 187

21 A Walk in the Garden 188

22 The Might of Babylon 197

23 To Catch the Conscience of the King 206

24 The Great… Again 215

25 Great Caesar’s Ghost! 225

26 Battle in the Desert 234

Volume 1: Before Caesar (Mostly)
Prologue

HI. MY NAME IS BOB. I’ll be your demon this evening. I promise to take good care of you. We’ve prepared a delectable array of vices to suit the most discriminating palate. And I can tell by looking at you that you are a discriminating person. If you have an appetite for Greed, we have so much hoardable stuff… Pardon me. We have so many collectibles that we can fill your basement and attic and still leave you wanting more.

Need a really good lie to tell the little woman when you get home? Or the boss about your expense report? Our cellar is stocked with the widest selection of defendable lies in the country. We serve some of today’s top politicians, lawyers, and preachers. Our lies are recommended by both right wing and left wing publications. And lies aren’t even a deadly sin!

As far as Gluttony goes, eat as much as you want. We’ll keep filling your plate.

For dessert, may I recommend one of a wide selection of our most lustful beauties. We have the ever-popular blondes, with a special sauce all their own. Something a little spicier? I still have a few redheads available. You can order any of our lustful delicacies in male or female, any race you’d like. If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, we can even custom fit them with your preferred body type.

Pride, Wrath, Envy, Sloth? You need look no further than the selection of sides available. Every vice is represented on our menu with some you might not yet have thought of!

Best of all, there’s no tipping! When it’s time to pay the tab, I just eat your soul.

I lied about that last part. I’ve never actually eaten a soul. Disgusting looking things. The ones you think should be sweet look like they are as bland as earwax. And those that purport themselves to be spicy smell like rotted nuts. Souls are an acquired taste and I don’t want to acquire it. I did that with beer and haven’t been the same since.

You see, I’m not really interested in striking deals that make you my servant for eternity… though there are a few who have willingly offered themselves. Not as many as you might assume. You see, eternity is a very long time. I take very good care of my possessions. A well-fed minion is a happy minion—that’s my motto. I find getting myself into trouble is about all I can handle without tempting others—though I’m not above helping a buddy out if he or she needs a push in the wrong direction. It’s a special talent of mine.

I’ve been around more than 4,000 years—ever since my conjuring in Knossos. As I said when I was writing The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, “All men of whatsoever quality they be, who have done anything of excellence, or which may properly resemble excellence, ought, if they are persons of truth and honesty, to describe their life with their own hand; but they ought not to attempt so fine an enterprise till they have passed the age of forty.” No, I didn’t really adopt the persona of Cellini and write his autobiography, but I read it and I could really identify with his tales. But that is the subject of his autobiography, not mine.

Anyway, having now passed the age of forty centuries, I feel compelled to tell my story… or what I remember of it.

To clarify: Four thousand years is a fucking long time! I’m a simple demon. Don’t read too much into that word. I’m not dumb. I’m just not omniscient, omnipresent, or omnimnemonic. That last word I coined to mean “all-remembering.” I’m not. I remember some things as clearly as if they happened yesterday. In fact, I should tell you about Liz and her bra-burning episode. It was… not in this part of the story. Okay? Besides, at this point, I can’t always keep straight what century some things happened in, let alone what order they happened. There were a couple in which I spent most of my time drunk and don’t remember anything that happened. And then the time I was stuck in the infinity room for seventy years. Esmira…

This is a memoir, not an autobiography, so most of the time, don’t expect it to start at the beginning and go all the way to the end. I tell about things as I think of them, so if I take a detour to the fifteenth century AC (After Caesar) while I'm supposed to be writing about BC (Before Caesar), that’s the order I remembered it in.

I took time to learn English and even took a writing class so I could compose this memoir in a common tongue that will be understood by all. Or most. Or at least some. At least more than can read Minoan Linear A.

Mostly, I learned what not to do that I’m going to do anyway. Take backstory, for instance. Professor Tolkien went on and on about not starting a book with a lot of backstory. Practice what you preach. The theory is that if it is necessary to the story, it will come out eventually.

Well, right, but if you are going to understand any of my story, it needs to start with something more than, “Esmira, I’m going to kill you!” You would think this was a typical story of an evil demon, rending the flesh from innocent victims, and that would be so unfair! How are you to understand who in four thousand years Esmira was. And why would I hate my wife so much that I would threaten to kill her? Ha! Now the surprise has been spoiled!

So, I’ll begin at the beginning. Even though the first chapter was not my personal experience, I’ll tell the story of Pinaruti the way I learned it from the man’s memories.

Part I
In the Beginning

Image Credit: Danilo Sanino, ID1571939008 licensed from Shutterstock.com

1
My Inept Adept

PINARUTI WAS A BRIGHT lad with the common malady of being unable to stay focused on any one thing for long. Except sex. Pinaruti never had a problem focusing on sex. I’m sorry to say that, for Pinaruti, his focus on the act of sex was so single-minded that he never figured out how to actually get there. So, he spent some time as a shepherd, some as a bricklayer, some as a winemaker—which was nearly his undoing—and eventually ended up as the apprentice to one of Minoa’s finest magi.

The inability to focus and a weakness for the wine he’d bottled meant that many of Pinaruti’s spells went slightly—or even seriously—awry. That was, in fact, how his venerable master met his end. Pinaruti was practicing a simple spell to turn a sacrificial sheep into a blood sausage, when he inadvertently sucked the blood out of his master into the sausage. From that day on, he worked his spells only in isolation.

I once told Walt about what happened and while he agreed that it was a fitting end to the careless magician; he didn’t see that he could put the apprentice killing his master into his movie. Oh well. There’s no accounting for taste.

Also, from that day on, Pinaruti was the inheritor of his master’s business and, most importantly, to his precious books of spells. I suppose I need to clarify that I mean “scrolls,” or people get confused. There is always someone who will argue that a scroll is not a book. Upstarts. Pinaruti took his small library to Knossos, where neither he nor his master were known, and set up shop in a small but comfortable house where he worked charms and enchantments for a few coins and a supply of wine.

And that is how he happened to come to the attention of King Drakomaxos of the southwest quarter of the eastern half of Knossos. There were so many kings in Knossos at the time that each had to carefully define his kingdom and dared not claim both sides of the streets at his borders. Pinaruti came to the king’s attention because the house he built lay inside the Kingdom of Drakomaxos.

I have found that anytime one comes to the attention of a king, or any other ruler, it is at least going to cost money if not servitude or even life and limb. So it was in this instance.

“You have taken residence in the Kingdom of Drakomaxos,” the king declared. He was backed up by his entire army, which consisted at the time of two hired thugs who accompanied him when collecting taxes. “You owe a silver drachma in taxes for my royal protection.”

“From what?” Pinaruti naïvely asked.

“From what I might do to you if you are not under my protection,” Drako stated as though it were the most obvious thing.

“I have no more than a couple of copper coins,” Pinaruti said. “I normally trade spells for what I need.”

“Hmm. A magus. In my own kingdom,” Drako said, slapping his hands together. “I, too, am willing to take taxes in kind. I will forgive your taxes for five years if you will cast a spell to air condition my house. My house is too hot. Just look at the sweat rolling off our bodies. Steam is rising from the laundry. I want my home air conditioned.”

Of course, I picked up the term ‘air conditioned’ centuries later. But in general terms, that’s what he wanted. Pinaruti agreed. What else could he do, with the king’s army at his doorstep?

“Your royal majesty, this is a complex matter. I would not want to cast a spell that mistakenly froze your home and everything in it. I beg your leave to search my books and practice a spell so that I might cast the perfect spell to keep your house at the perfect temperature all year round,” Pinaruti begged.

“I will give you one year to research the problem, then you shall come to my house and air condition it, or I shall cut off your head,” Drako said, magnanimously.

It was a miserable year. Pinaruti read the scrolls. He came across different things that might work, but there was no spell for cooling a king’s home. So, Pinaruti turned to a higher power. If he summoned a demon, he reasoned, he could simply command the demon to cool the house and all would be well. Reaching that decision called for a drink to celebrate.

He climbed to the roof of his home and poured himself a bottle of wine from his glass. From the roof, he could see into his neighbor’s courtyard where the wife of the neighbor and her women servants were often scrubbing laundry or preparing meals. Or changing clothes or scrubbing each other. Pinaruti kept watch over them, benevolently stroking his magic wand as he drank his wine and had visions.

If you are slow on metaphors, he was jacking off as he fantasized about the women.

Eventually, he entered the room in the back of his house in which he did his magic. Up until this time, you might say that Pinaruti practiced mostly household magic—protective spells, simple illusions, and brooms that swept the floor by themselves. He held the scroll open with a bottle of wine at each end and carefully traced out the pattern for the protective circle into which he would summon his demon. Do I need to point out that when I use terms like glass and bottle at this time, I am quite aware that transparent glass was rare to non-existent and I include in the term those bottles and cups made of fired clay? Please, don’t nitpick. I’m trying to explain it in terms the simplest mind can understand.

All the while, Pinaruti kept reciting the spell and rereading what was probably the most complex spell in all his master’s books. There were some words he didn’t know exactly how to pronounce, but he got a series of sounds out that matched the characters in the writing. Then he looked down the list of possible demons he might summon.

I must say that in Knossos and on all of Crete, demon-summoning was a fairly new art. There were few known demons to summon and in a typically naïve act of overestimating his abilities, Pinaruti chose to summon Beelzebub, the most powerful demon whose name was written in the book. That is where the problem began, but wasn’t really the problem it could have been if Pinaruti had been a competent mage. He didn’t really believe this would work, as he had never seen the spell performed.

He had another bottle of wine as he looked at the sketches he had made over the years. In another day and age, Pinaruti might have been recognized as a typically socially inept artist. He had been drawing pictures for many years and sketched out exactly what he felt his demon would look like.

Over the course of several days, Pinaruti alternated between preparing the spell and watching the neighbor lady sunbathing. Drinking wine. He actually forgot to eat, so focused on his two tasks he was. They came up with a name for that kind of guy a few millennia later, but such people were in the world since day one.

The result was somewhat predictable, I’m afraid. Pinaruti began chanting the spell as he lit candles around the room. He stood on the point of the circle where he was supposed to be strongest. He looked at the picture he had drawn and pointed to the center of the circle as he commanded Beelzebub to appear and serve him.

That’s where Pinaruti’s drunken mind fell apart on him. He slurred the name of the demon he was summoning and instead of Beelzebub, he got Beetlebob. Me.

I’ll have to say, he did a few things right. The image of the demon he manufactured in his brain and so carefully drew was a pretty good physical specimen, if I do say so myself. And I do. Strapping bulging muscles, broad chest, a fine pair of hooves on my feet, long claws for fingers, a proud set of horns on my head. And a good-sized chunk of meat between my legs that seemed to have a mind of its own. I immediately felt at home in my new body. I flexed my muscles, rolled my head on my thick neck, and crouched down to look at my master.

He did not look well. He was stammering and shuffling around in such a way that he was erasing parts of the chalk circle he’d so carefully drawn. It was obvious he was in shock. He kept pointing at me and gibbering as if he hadn’t really expected me to appear. Actually, he hadn’t, and the shock of seeing me materialize in the middle of the circle was too much for the old man. At this time, he was more than forty unremarkable years old, and was destined to grow no older. He clutched his chest, dropped his wine bottle, and pitched forward, landing squarely at my feet. Dead of shock.

The circle began to dissolve around me and I had to act fast. Pinaruti was my bridge into the world and I put my foot forward and stepped on him until I was out of the circle and free. I could see his hands beginning to dissolve with the circle and reached out to rescue his body. I wasn’t a bad guy, even then. He brought me into this world. The least I could do was save him from being dissolved into the primordial mass from which I’d emerged.

But when I put my hand on his flesh, something amazing happened. I suddenly received a burst of memories from the old man, including how he’d summoned me, why, and the view from the roof. I snatched my hand back and his body faded away.

2
A New Me

HERE I WAS, a brand new demon, cast adrift in the cold cruel world, alone, with no guiding hand to show me the way, no mother’s breast to nurse me. Sob.

Um… That last was definitely implanted from Pinaruti’s memories. I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought of it otherwise. You see, in spite of the way I was endowed, I was not born a sex-craving monster. I had to work hard for that. Nor are demons inherently evil. We are brought into this world by magi who give us our instructions and implant the character we have. Pinaruti’s intent to use me to air condition the king’s house was pretty benign as far as good and evil are concerned. I have met plenty of humans far more evil than any demon.

And I have met some—dare I say?—holy demons.

I suppose I should explain a bit about demons, or you will never understand the depth of my bewilderment when faced with the human world. Before Pinaruti summoned me, I did not exist. That is one of the things Pinaruti (and most magi of any sort) misunderstand. They spend their lives trying to discover the names of demons they might summon and control. Eventually, they come across a name in an ancient scroll or a name comes to them in a dream, and they set up an elaborate summoning spell.

In some cases, they stumble upon a demon who has been summoned before and therefore has a personal identity. As long as that demon’s name is known and he is not in use by someone else, he can be summoned. Inevitably, the frightened mage dismisses the demon to hell, and that is where the demon waits until the next time he is summoned.

I remember Jana, a perfectly delightful young beauty I spent several years with. We were close in more ways than the joining of our genitals. However, the sex act with Jana was unbelievable. She happened to meet me during a time when I was in my natural form, complete with horns, hooves, and huge phallus. I transformed into something less intimidating, but she begged me to keep a cock big enough to satisfy her. That took a lot.

Oh, was she a screamer! She sacrificed herself on my sword daily for many years, having created a fantasy tale in her mind that she was saving all the virgins in her village, then in the area, then in the country, by throwing herself onto my dick and riding hard until one or both of us passed out. She might have been the most enthusiastic lover I ever had, so committed was she to the salvation of her peers—or perhaps to keeping them away from me.

After one particularly loud and satisfying bout of sex, she lay in my arms and said, “Oh, Bob. I’m sure I’m going to hell for this. Tell me. Is sex like this in hell?”

“I don’t know, Jana. I’ve never been there!”

“But… but you’re a demon! Everybody knows they come from hell.”

“Everybody is wrong. Many demons are sent to hell by their masters. The fellow summons a demon, uses him or her, and then needs to dispose of him. Hell is the common destination. But the first time we are summoned, we don’t come from hell. We come out of the primordial mass. We don’t exist before we are summoned.”

“I love it when you talk dirty. Fuck me again, Bob!”

Well, she wasn’t a great conversationalist, but it got the point across. Before Pinaruti summoned me, I was just part of the primordial mass of pre-creation. Once a magus learns to summon, he or she could summon anything into existence. I think, frankly, that is how hell came to be. I can think of no god who would have created it. We should all simply be thankful magi have such limited imaginations.

So, when Pinaruti summoned me, I was a brand new demon. I had no experience of the world. I took the shape that Pinaruti envisioned. But he never gave me a command—never sent me away before he died—and never infected my mind with evil. Yes, I captured as much of his memories as his fading body would yield, but I could easily identify them as his memories and not my own experiences. And Pinaruti wasn’t particularly evil as magi go. He was just inept.

I was left on my own to discover the world and I set about doing so at once. The magic room into which I had been summoned contained Pinaruti’s library of scrolls—six of them. Writing wasn’t that common at the time, and so there weren’t that many books. If people had known what he had in that room, he would have been considered a very wealthy man rather than a poor hedge witch. People came to him for cures to various ailments, love potions, charmed artifacts, and travel talismans. King Drakomaxos was the first to actually challenge him to a task that was of a true mage level.

In addition to the scrolls, there were shelves of potions, herbs, sacrificial animal body parts, mortar and pestles, and oddities of every sort. And wine. There were also scraps of food on the shelves that I took to be edibles and not magic substances. I quickly acquired a taste for wine and cheese and dried sausages. It took me nearly a week just to explore that room. Then I realized the room was not the entire world. It had a door!

The next room was a kitchen and the selection of food was somewhat better than in the magic room. I simply had no idea how to cook anything and discovered that even Pinaruti’s memories had very little about the subject. The next room was a bed. Not a bedroom, but an entire room-sized bed. When Pinaruti had come to Knossos, he fancied that he would become a popular mage and would have women falling all over him. One woman actually did trip and fall over him, but she was quite unfriendly about it. Pinaruti’s huge bed had no sign of conjugal relations having ever occurred there.

In the modest courtyard, the bread oven was tucked under the stairs to the roof. I kept exploring and found my first view of ‘the world!’ It was amazing. And a little frightening. Up until that very moment, my world had all been contained in Pinaruti’s house and courtyard. Imagine seeing houses in one direction as far as the eye could see. And in the other direction, mountains like a wall around the world. In another direction, the sea, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. And opposite the sea, fields of olives, grain, grapes, and sheep. The world was huge! I couldn’t comprehend it all and stood on the roof watching my surroundings until it grew dark and I saw stars in the sky.

I have to tell you: I get a little choked up about this even today. I’m just a sentimental little demon. I swore I would see every inch of this remarkable world. I would discover all its wonders. I didn’t bother with Pinaruti’s huge bed. I spent the night on the roof, gazing at the stars. What a remarkable world!

I spent a few more days mapping my surroundings in my mind. This also began my fascination with mapping the stars and learning to know where I was located by their position in the sky. That became a bit of an obsession that I have had ever since. Which is why the stars in the infinity room… Well, let me get to that in a minute.

I learned every detail of Pinaruti’s house and had even explored his plan for cooling the king’s chambers. As brilliant as it was in some ways, it was also disgusting. To me. His original plan was to enchant a bottle in such a way that he could command me into it and I would have to stay there until summoned again. From that point, I would be called upon to cool the king’s house. He had no idea how I would go about accomplishing that feat. It was supposed to be my problem.

What really put my nose out of joint was that he’d just grabbed a bottle, drank the last of the wine, and cast the enchantment so that I’d fit in it. Barely. With the dregs of the wine. But the process of creating that bottle room led him to another thought. Why not simply imprison his pet demon in the walls of the king’s house. Then he could simply command me to keep it cool and walk away. I was insulted by his lack of care and loyalty to the being he had created. He actually used the word ‘imprisoned’ when describing how he would use me. I admit to a moment of being glad he was dead. Rest his soul.

No, sir! I was not going to spend the rest of my life—eternity if you will—imprisoned in the walls of a dead king’s house! If I was going to cool his house… Well, I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d do that. It was the middle of summer and was definitely hot enough to bake bread without a fire in the oven. I learned that expression much later in life. At the time, I had no idea how to bake bread. It was cooler at night, so I supposed I could cover the house in darkness and it would be cooler. That was the best idea I could come up with at the moment.

I was lying on the roof, contemplating the problem of cooling the king’s house, when I heard a pounding on the door. I cautiously peeked over the edge of the roof to see what was going on. Remember, I had yet to have any human interactions since Pinaruti so conveniently died after my summons. What I saw, chilled my bones.

King Drakomaxos stood at the door with his entire army—now grown to four goons with bows and spears—behind him.

“Pinaruti! Your year is up! Come out now and cool my house!”

Of course, there was no answer and I was not about to give one. The king was not going to take silence as an answer. He kept pounding and demanding and finally told his soldiers to break the door down. It may have been my sentimentality that took offense at that. This was Pinaruti’s home. Mine now. I closed my eyes and focused on the door, reciting the sealing spell Pinaruti had intended to use on the bottle with me in it. To my amazement, the four soldiers rammed into the door and were repulsed to lie in a heap on the other side of the street. Immediately, soldiers from the kingdom across the street met them and began to repulse the invasion of their kingdom.

It was fascinating and I watched from the rooftop wondering at what had caused the fight. At some point, one of the soldiers, or perhaps it was an interested bystander cheering them on, spotted me on the roof and raised a ruckus. Eyes raised to meet mine and fingers pointed in my direction. I waved, thinking it would be best to put on a friendly face. The king raised alarms, pointing.

“An evil beast has killed the wizard Pinaruti!” the king exclaimed. “Protect our kingdoms and kill the evil beast!” Not friendly at all.

“No, no!” I yelled as the first volley of arrows flew toward me. I swatted them away with my hand. “I’m not an evil beast. I… I’m just here to bury my old friend Pinaruti. He passed away, you see…” Another volley of arrows answered my plea. I pulled back. I was trapped inside and frankly did not know how long the sealing spell would last.

I ran to a different edge of the roof and looked down into my neighbor’s courtyard. That would have to do. I needed to escape and run away. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I dropped into the neighbor’s courtyard to look for an escape route. I found women. There were screams and they ran away. All except one. She’d been bathing and stood in a small tub of water, soaking wet and completely naked.

I’d never actually seen a naked woman before, though I had memories of Pinaruti gazing on his neighbor’s wife. The reality of being face-to-face with her was quite different than Pinaruti’s muddled memories. My body began to react instantly and the phallus that usually dangled between my legs suddenly rose of its own accord to salute the naked woman.

“Blushing Aphrodite!” she exclaimed. “Would you look at that! It puts my husband’s wee probe to shame. I want it!” With that, she leapt at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs about my waist as her wet and hairy groin bounced against my stiff prick.

I wanted to stop right there and enjoy the new sensations a while, but the shouts were now outside her front door. I ran for the wall of her courtyard and leapt into the next property, finding I was more than capable of jumping over the privacy walls of the city. When I landed in a crouch, my new lady friend groaned as she impaled herself on me. I groaned as well and thrust up into her as she wailed in ecstasy. That wail brought the ladies of the current house out. Some ran screaming back inside, as others clamored for ‘Ariane’ to hurry up and share. As delightful as it was to see ladies rushing to disrobe, I was frightened of what was behind me. I ran into the house, as soldiers shot arrows over the wall. Three naked ladies followed me out into the street with Ariane still snugly impaled on my prick. I began to run away from the area, out into the countryside toward the mountains I had seen from the rooftop. It seemed word of our flight traveled faster than we did and women rushed out of doors all along our path, struggling out of their clothing as they ran.

Ariane’s continued wailing about how I was killing her did nothing to slow down her concentrated bouncing on me. I could feel her fluids running down my running legs even as I felt myself near a bursting point. So that was what Pinaruti’s fantasies were of! I was well out in the country when my first ever climax overcame me and I exploded inside her. This time her wail was so loud (and possibly accompanied by my own primal bellow), sheep in a nearby field all turned and fled from us, causing the shepherd a moment of panic as he rushed to recapture his flock.

Ariane passed out and went limp in my arms—something I was not likely to do yet. It was just as easy to carry her with an arm wrapped around her and her female parts tightly welded to my male part. I simply kept running.

We’d left the soldiers and the City of Knossos in the distance as I climbed higher into the mountains, still running in fear from the unexpected violence. I gasped for breath as I climbed and finally saw a cave into which I could duck and hopefully rest for a while. It seemed comfortable—much cooler than the midsummer heat I’d run through. I stumbled in and sank to the floor, stretching out on my back before realizing Ariane was still impaled and just beginning to come around.

“Ah, who are you who has captured my soul and made it your own?” she breathed as she began kissing my chest. I liked that feeling and would have returned the gesture, but she was considerably shorter than I was. As she kissed, she began moving up and down my pole again.

I was ready to enjoy her and to quickly declare undying love by giving her my name. But something stopped me. Pinaruti had summoned me into this world with that name and somehow, it had some power over me I should not share lightly. Even with a woman whose pussy was doing such nice things to my cock.

“Um… I guess you can call me Bob,” I said. “And you are Ariane?”

“Yes, Bob. And I’m yours. Just fuck me unconscious again and again!”

“I’m happy to get to know you… um… your pussy. You feel really good. I’ve never experienced such a delightful sensation.”

“Oh, my! Am I your first? Oh! I can’t believe I’ve taken a demon’s virginity! You are splitting me in half with your pole and I love it. I’ve certainly given you parts of me that have never been touched before. Please say you’ll take me with you wherever you go,” she said.

“I don’t know how all this stuff works, but I’m about to go again right now. You feel so fucking good! Here I come!”

“Oh, my demon! I’m full to overflowing. I’m never going back to that foolish old man. I’m with you now!” With that, her body began to quiver and pulse as she once again shrieked out a climax. Finally, we lay sated for the moment and she used me as a mattress as we slept.

3
The Dikteon Cave

SOMEBODY WILL SURELY go off on me about what order things occurred in and when I was born. That’s why I’m not going to cite dates as a matter of course, as if this was a high school term paper. I thought time was an easy thing that I marked by sunrise and sunset. We didn’t have a calendar in ancient Crete that said 2076 BCE. Someone might have told me it was in the third year of King Drakomaxos’ reign, but you wouldn’t know him anyway. Time of the modern calendar sort is a relatively new invention. In reality, time isn’t linear. It jumps all over the place, and so do I. So, just go with it, okay? The same is true of distance. How far can I travel in a day? It depends on how long the day is.

Besides, it’s irrelevant to this part of the story. I think. Just remember that I was running for my life from Knossos with a naked woman riding shotgun on my unceasing erection. I might have run like that for days or for a few minutes. I was panicked. I ended up in a cave on a mountain. I have since learned Crete is an island, so I can safely say that since I didn’t cross any bodies of water, I was still on the island of Crete.

In a cave.

I’m not going to tell you this cave was the actual birthplace of Zeus. He didn’t say. Nor will I say this is where he brought Europa and lived with her as they brought forth their three sons. I’ll only say that he seemed to have a strong presence in this cave. That I found it at all was indicative of divine guidance. That it was replete with water, a store of vegetables and dried meat, and lay just above a plateau of wild crops and game to supply our needs. We couldn’t fuck all the time and Ariane, being human, required food and water and, eventually, she wanted clothing—which I reluctantly gave her.

I have since discovered that I can go for long periods—possibly forever—without food, drink, or sleep. But I indulge in all three for the sheer pleasure they bring. Much like fucking. I could go without, but why?

Some people in Knossos would tell you Ariane wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the city. To me, she was the first woman I saw in all her splendor, and you never forget your first. She was as fascinated with my sex organ as I was with hers. We would finish fucking and she would roll to the side, swearing she was broken and would be unable to go again until she’d healed after two or three weeks. Half an hour later, she would be stroking, licking, and riding my cock like it was the first time she’d discovered it.

But, like I said, she needed food and clothing. Not wanting to deplete the supplies in the cave that certainly must belong to someone, we happily hunted and gathered side-by-side.

“How,” I asked as we licked berry juices from each other’s face, “did you know I was a demon?”

“Great Minos! What else could you be? Just look at you! No human man looks like you do. Or is hung like you are, I’m sure!”

I was puzzled. I tried jumping out of my skin to turn and look at myself, but it never seemed to work. How was I to know what I looked like?

Ariane figured out my dilemma and took me to a lake where I could look into the water and see myself. I jumped back in fright the first time I saw my reflection. I knew I had horns and hairy legs, but seeing them for the first time was startling. I was certainly not like any of the men I’d seen outside Pinaruti’s door. I was far more handsome. I had large ram’s horns on my head, a little pointed beard on my chin, hairy legs with hooves, and muscles that rippled beneath the otherwise smooth skin of my torso. I preened a bit and could only just imagine how I might seem frightening.

“Oh! This is just how Pinaruti imagined me when he summoned me. I saw a drawing,” I said. “I suppose, though, that it will make it difficult for me to walk among men without being attacked. Do they always attack people who are different from them?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” That was my first lesson in human interaction. The anger and violence shown to me by King Drakomaxos and his soldiers was typical of humanity. “At the very least,” Ariane continued, “we would need to find clothes for you. Of course, we left so suddenly that I came away naked as well. I’ll need to find clothing. Appearing naked like this would give men the wrong idea.”

“I have an idea,” I said. I caught her in my arms and began to probe at her with my stiffening cock. She locked her legs around my torso, keeping her pussy just beyond where I could penetrate it.

“That’s what I mean,” she laughed. “We wouldn’t want every man we meet to start plundering my pussy.” I was about to suggest that I’d kill them, but Ariane did the most remarkable thing. She pressed her lips against mine and then she pressed her tongue into my mouth. For a few moments, I lost all my senses to this new experience. As we kissed, she relaxed her grip and gradually slid onto my pole. I had to bend almost double to get my entire length into her while still maintaining contact with her lips and tongue. I knew at once that this was something I would like all my life, no matter how long it was.

And that was my first lesson in morality. Not the kiss, but my visceral reaction to the idea that other men may plunder her pussy. And it wasn’t that I owned her pussy. It was that anyone might take it without her consent. But as much as I abhorred the thought of her being raped, the thought of killing a man, even for so heinous a crime, caused me to pause and consider the value of a human life. Yes. I decided a man who raped a woman deserved to die. There might be other such crimes as well. But I was not a bloodthirsty demon.

I killed a couple of sheep under Ariane’s direction, and she efficiently butchered them and dried the meat over our fire. It would have been difficult if she had not explained that she needed a knife, which I was able to fashion out of a glassy rock. She also prepared the skins, and before long, we each had a breechclout that we could wear if we encountered any other people. She managed herself a vest as well, but I kept trying to position myself so I could see her breasts under the skin. She finally gave up, laughing about how in some things I was a typical man. She removed her vest and breechclout and we only put them on when we went to trade with a nearby village.

That proved a little embarrassing when we had a guest one day.

“So, who’s screwing around in my cave?” the great one bellowed.

“Oh, Zeus Almighty!” Ariane said, flattening herself against my chest. It took a lot of pressure to flatten herself. The boobs kind of squished out to the side.

“Hi!” I said. “I’m Bob.”

“Hmm. So, you’re the one,” Zeus said, settling himself on a chair I hadn’t noticed before. In fact, the whole cave seemed better furnished than it had been before. And there were little minions running around serving drinks and food. “I heard there was a demon on the loose. That’s why I came down to investigate for myself. What am I going to do with you?”

“Do you need to do something with me?” I gulped.

“Well, we don’t usually allow stray spirits to wander around among men. You already caused a riot in Knossos. No, no. I understand it was an accident and nothing you did, though that girl’s husband, Basarti, is a bit upset. He’s already remarried. Uh… That cute little nymph you had waiting on you,” Zeus said to Ariane who had relaxed enough that her boobs were once again standing proudly in front of her.

“Well, that’s okay,” Ariane said “I feel sorry for her with no more satisfaction than he can give with his little member. If you see her, please let her know I kept a long gourd hidden behind the pantry that works pretty well.”

“I’ll pass that on. Or you can when you go back.”

“Go back?” we both said at the same time. We linked our pinky fingers and made a wish.

“You left a mess and you have to clean it up. Nice sealing charm you put on the place, by the way. Nobody can get near it. Property values are falling. People claim the place is haunted and that you are still inside. Some women won’t go outside for fear they’ll be kidnapped by the demon. And some have taken to wandering the streets, hoping,” Zeus said.

“But if I go back, they’ll hunt me down and kill me!” I said.

“About that. It’s really not easy to kill a demon, though they might make you suffer a bit. And you could learn to hide your appearance.”

“Really? How?”

“You are a babe in the woods, aren’t you?” Zeus said, shaking his head. In an instant he shifted forms from the stately god to a swan, to a bull, and back again. “Will and word. And for you, that means learning the spells. You can change your appearance and become a good-looking guy, still adequately hung to satisfy the likes of Ariane there, but not frightening.”

“I could look like you?”

“Don’t! Let’s work on the spell and figure out what model you should use. Don’t use an animal. It’s hell changing back to this form if you can’t speak the spell. We’ll decide what else you need to survive in the world without creating any more disasters.”

That began my period of instruction under the great Zeus. It seems he was bored, having taken a vow not to interfere in the affairs of men. But educating a demon did not have anything to do with human affairs. He stayed with us for several days or weeks or some amount of time. It’s hard to keep track when dealing with a god. In her devotion to me, Ariane took it upon herself to make sure Zeus’s needs were also satisfied. In fact, she went to the local villages and recruited a few young women to come and spend time with us. Zeus managed to teach me during the times when Ariane was gone, but when she returned, she was just too distracting for me to learn anything.

The girls! Aside from a few fleeting glimpses of women tearing their clothes off as we fled, Ariane was the only fully naked woman I’d ever seen. When she lined six beauties up in front of Zeus and me and had them strip, I was lost.

“They’re all the same but so different!” I exclaimed.

“That’s what makes them so hard to resist,” Zeus agreed. “It’s like having seven pieces of sweet fruit on the table before you. You know they are all tasty, but each one will be a little different. And having tasted one, you would not want to make it the only fruit you tasted with so many other available. That’s why we males need a variety. Being fed only one fruit for all our lives would become dreadfully boring.”

“I am devoted to serving Bob,” Ariane said. “And as our guest, I happily service you, too. But I will always make sure Bob has a variety so his appetite never dwindles.”

“I’d have you give lessons to Hera, but I’m afraid she’d corrupt you,” Zeus sighed.

And then the party began and the seven women made sure we had each sampled their fruit. I’m not sure how often Ariane traded them out, but between sessions, Zeus taught me like a father. He told me exactly how an immortal like me could be killed or controlled. It is false to assume immortal means the same as ‘can’t be killed.’ That is invincible. But an immortal doesn’t die of natural causes. He or she can, however, be killed. Both of these concepts, I decline to write down here as I’ve no desire to be either killed or controlled.

Zeus taught me how to transform myself into different visages, and how to transmute one substance into another. Both spells had the same limitation in that eventually the sheep turd I turned to a gold disk would return to being a sheep turd. Just as I would eventually return to my demon self.

“What I don’t get is how Drakomaxos ever expected Pinaruti to cool his home. Even if Pinaruti had succeeded in putting me in the walls, I don’t know what I’ have done to make it cool!” I said in frustration. “It’s always nice and cool here in the cave. We can dry meat on the rocks outside when it’s so hot. There must be some powerful magic in these walls.”

Zeus groaned.

“Think for a minute about what is missing in the cave that hits the rock on which you dry your meat,” he finally said. He liked to make me figure out things myself, but I wasn’t the fastest chariot in the race.

“Rain!” I said. He groaned again and motioned me to try again. “Dust? Sunlight!”

I swear all the minions in the cave sang a choral descant to Zeus’s “Yes!”

We took a break for a while and fucked the entire troupe of new girls Ariane had recruited.

“So,” I said, after we’d partied for a day or two. “I could cast his house into darkness. That was my first thought because it is cooler at night when the sun is not shining.”

“You’d be stuck there holding it in darkness. That would have worked if you were confined in the walls according to Pinaruti’s original plan. And people would get depressed at living under the shadow,” Zeus said. I looked at him blankly. “Rock, you idiot! What keeps the cave cool is layers and layers of rock blocking the sun.”

“Drakomaxos should live in a cave!” I was jubilant. But caves were in the mountains and his kingdom was in the city. “I wonder if I could just build him a cave around his house. Take a lot of rocks and surround it.”

“Try it a few times and see what happens,” Zeus said. “The trick will simply be to keep them stacked on top of each other without falling in on him.”

Well, Zeus said he needed to appear on Olympus before Hera came looking for him again. Ariane begged him to marry us before he left.

“Bob? You want to be married to Ariane?”

“Oh, yes, sir!” I said happily.

“Well, a demon has as much right to be miserable as a god.” Of course, simply saying we were married wasn’t enough to satisfy Ariane. She needed a formal procession and to be attended by the women who had serviced us during the god’s stay of—I have no idea how long he was with us. Anyway, eventually he pronounced us married, warning Ariane that I was immortal, but she wasn’t. That was a sobering thought.

Then Zeus paraded a bunch of images in front of me that I might choose to transform into. I felt Ariane’s heart flutter when Adonis passed by and so I chose to transform into his likeness. Zeus snickered. And then he left.

At that, all the women who had been with us fell upon us and we had a long fuck-fest. At the end of which, I gave each woman a sack full of gold that I was certain would stay gold for a few years. Long enough to be a rich dowry for each of them.

Ariane and I prepared to return to Knossos.

4
The Pain of Being Handsome

AS ARIANE might be recognized when we returned to Knossos, I took the time to work a transformation on her as well. Mostly I just made her appear younger and changed her hair color. There’d been a blonde among the village girls we both liked a lot, so I gave her blonde hair and big tits. She made me trim them down a little so she could walk without falling over forward, but she was still a fine-looking woman and a suitable companion to my Adonis image.

We made our plans and set a date to return to Knossos. First, we needed to fully explore and appreciate our new bodies. Ariane said she missed my horns because they gave her something to grab onto when I was pounding into her. I kind of missed the old Ariane, but I latched onto her boobs and started sucking away. Her frame wasn’t much different than the old Ariane. She was still short by my standards, but she was a lot more flexible. So was I. We could kiss while we fucked. And she’d made sure I didn’t alter my man-meat. She was still claiming I was killing her when I came in her tight little hole, but then she’d ask for more.

“You’re okay just being called Bob,” she said to me as we were ready to leave. “I can’t go claiming to be Ariane, though. Aside from the hair and the boobs, I’m about the same as I was a few years ago. You should call me Aria. I’ve always liked the sound of that.”

It was agreed and we left.

During our sojourn in the mountains, we’d acquired quite a wagonload of skins, pottery, dried fruits, and smoked meats, which I pulled down the street to Pinaruti’s house. I was mumbling the spell that would take the seal off the door.

“Be careful there,” Basarti from next door said. “Some demon put a spell on that place and no one can get in.”

“I have a key,” I said. Aria snickered as Basarti cast a puzzled look at his former wife.

I pushed the door open and there was a swoosh of stale air as we went inside.

“I need to air it out,” Aria said as she rushed to the windows and opened the wooden shutters. Once the door to the courtyard was open, a hot breeze began to flow through the house, lifting the odors of rotted food and dried herbs.

“There’s a bin in the back we can dump the old food into,” I said. “You do that while I empty our cart.”

There were already street urchins poking their fingers into my cart and I chased them all away, reminding them there could still be a demon in the house. The skins, pottery, grain, and dried meat were all soon inside and Aria efficiently put them away.

“What a huge bed!” she exclaimed. “Has it ever been used?”

“I don’t think so. Pinaruti seems to have had all his fantasies on the rooftop, looking at the neighbor’s… um… you.”

“I always knew he was up there. I made sure the girls paraded around naked, or that I was in the bath when he needed relief. It seemed like a neighborly thing to do—as long as I didn’t have to touch him,” Aria said. “Let’s try it out and see if it is as comfortable as it looks.” With a quick flourish, she stripped off the dress she’d traded for at the village, and we jumped on the bed and on each other.

Aria and I always seemed about a heartbeat away from having sex. It was a good life.

Of course, word of my arrival spread rapidly and it wasn’t long before King Drakomaxos came pounding on my door—this time with his army of a dozen thugs behind him. After my previous appearance in Knossos, things had improved for Drakomaxos. He’d acquired the kingdom next door. This was done by the simple expedient of having his soldiers kill or capture the soldiers from the neighboring kingdom who had joined them in chasing after me. As soon as they were out of the way, he marched over ten streets and captured the former king, claiming the kingdom his by right of having fought off the invading army. His third wife was the daughter of said king.

“The former owner of this property left without paying his taxes,” Drakomaxos announced imperiously. “If you are his heir and are to enjoy the protection of our royal state, you must pay up the back taxes. Are you a magus?”

All the time, the king was trying to get a good look into the house around me. Word that I had an extraordinarily beautiful wife had circulated as fast as word that I was extraordinarily handsome. There were always people—men and women both—making long detours past our house to try to get a glimpse of Aria or me.

“No. I’m not a mage,” I said. If I admitted to having magic, my peaceful life would be over and there would be a non-stop flow of people wanting warts healed. “I’m something better.”

“Better than a mage? See here now. I’m the king. You can get no better than that!”

“No. But I’m an architect. That may not be as good as a king, but it’s far better than a mage. I build things.”

“What kind of things can you build?”

“Well, have you noticed how hot it is here all the time? I know the secret to building a house—no, let us call it a palace—that stays cool all year round.”

“You can do that? I command you to build me such a palace!”

“Oh, gentle my Lord, your Kingship, Sir. I will provide the knowhow and the plans because I owe you this tax. However, you must provide the place for the palace to be built, the materials, and the labor. A man has to live, you know.”

“I have a kingdom. I will put everyone to work. What materials do I need?” Drako was getting enthused and wasn’t thinking straight. If everyone in the kingdom worked at building his palace then everyone would soon be naked and starving. But I continued to lay out the plans.

“Stones,” I said. He looked at me blankly. “Each stone must be cut from the quarry bed at exactly a cubit square. The laborers must bring the stones to your building site and place them as I direct. You, oh, mighty King Drakomaxos, will have a palace envied by all other kings.”

That was really all it took. Drakomaxos was sold on the idea. He fretted about how he would pay for labor.

“I will raid the next kingdom and acquire slaves to do the labor,” he stated boldly.

“Your Majesty,” I said sadly. “It is well known in the mountain kingdom from which I come that a house built by slaves will one day collapse on its owner. Labor must be cared for and paid.”

“How can I pay for such labor?”

“Let us start small. Find me six strong men and promise them one of your coins for every hand of days they work.” Drako had established a kind of currency he called a coin that had his image stamped on a disk of metal. It looked sort of like his image. If you turned the coin upside down, it looked rather like a horse’s ass.

When Drako had drafted six laborers who agreed to his terms, they joined me at the site outside of town I’d identified as appropriate to cut the sandstone for the palace. The very first day they cut into the rock, they uncovered a seam of gold in the stone. This, they mined, enabling Drakomaxos to pay for workers and to buy the land for his palace. He even managed to talk a couple of neighboring kings out of their kingdoms without having to invade. Amazing what a little gold will do. And I was reasonably certain the spell I’d cast on it would keep it gold for at least twenty years before turned into sandstone again. Drakomaxos forged it into little disks and stamped his image on it. The Drako became the common currency for all of Knossos.

I didn’t want to do a lot of work myself, which is why I agreed only to supervise. That light little job, however, was rife with difficulties. I needed to supervise the cutting of the stones, the clearing and prep of the palace site, the payment of workers, and the actual construction of the palace. And labor troubles… Bah! The stones were heavy. The weather was hot. The days were long. None of that was my fault, but I had to deal with the problems.

I did do a couple of things that I thought up myself. For example, I built a couple of sleds for moving the sandstone from the quarry to the palace site. I cast a spell on them so that no matter what was put on the sled, it would weigh no more and be no harder to pull than when empty. I dug a pool near the quarry and filled it with water. Three times a day, I gave all the workers a break to go take a dip in the water. That kept them cooler and generally happier.

It didn’t make the cutting and lifting of stones any lighter or the work any easier, but the laborers seemed to be happier. Especially, when they were paid in Drakos. I revised my timing, promising to be done in ten years instead of twenty. I didn’t want to be around when gold started turning to sandstone. And I didn’t want to risk having my body change back to its natural form before I was someplace safe.

My body—and Aria’s—was creating enough problems for me. I got home one evening to find three naked beauties kneeling on the floor next to my bed. Aria simply fed me and chatted about the day, while totally ignoring them.

“Aria, dear, what are they doing here?” I asked, gesturing to the naked ladies.

“Oh. They just showed up today, totally starstruck. They were taking lunches to the laborers at the quarry today, hoping to attract one of the strong young men as a mate. Apparently, a ‘godlike man’ rose up out of the water in the pool and dried himself in the sun. They were all so struck by his beauty that they sought out his home to offer themselves to him. Did you have a swim today, love?”

“Um… I might have. It was a terribly hot day.”

“Well, it was not unnoticed. Maybe this body wasn’t the very best choice. Do you know what I saw last night?” Aria asked, still ignoring the nymphs by the bed. “That little slut Nimia who married my former husband was up on her roof last night, watching us make love in the courtyard. From what I saw, she has probably rubbed her nubbin raw.”

“Oh, dear. I really don’t want any problems with Basarti.”

“Of course not. But the house is getting a little small, don’t you think? Where there are now three little sluts waiting by our bed, I’m sure in time there will be six or ten or a hundred. Where will we put them all?”

“Do we really need that many?” I could see no end of problems with a harem of women wanting a little more room, a private well, a pool, or what have you. I was sure Drakomaxos would not look kindly on it, either.

“How can I turn them away when they’ve seen you, my handsome husband? We would have a houseful of men as well, if they hadn’t all seen you swimming. They’ve given up on me because they are unable to compete.”

“We really can’t have a houseful of men,” I sighed. “Not that I would object to one or two if you need them to keep you satisfied. I know you enjoyed Great Zeus when he visited.”

“Yes, but there is not a man in Knossos who could compete with god or demon. I know that no matter how many of these young beauties you fuck, you will still have a solid pole to satisfy your Aria.”

With that, Aria crawled into my lap and proceeded to demonstrate to the young nymphs what I was capable of in satisfying her. Then one after another, the naked beauties kneeling at the bedside took their turns riding the staff of Adonis. Oh, what an incredible feast.

As I was seating myself into the third delectable bit, I looked to the side and saw one of the nymphs with her face buried between Aria’s legs. Aria was writhing in pleasure.

“What is she doing?” I whispered to my lover.

“Oh, there’s a limit of available equipment when there are several ladies and only one man. We have to satisfy each other while we are waiting for our turn.”

“But you haven’t a prick!” I said. I knew very well what it took to satisfy these women and it was solidly embedded in this girl’s glorious pussy.

“We have tongues. They might not be as long or as thick as your prick, but they are agile.”

“Show me!” I demanded. This was new information about sex and I was always interested in sex. The girl pulled her dripping pussy from my cock and lay on her back beside me. With a crook of a finger, she beckoned another girl between her legs and I watched as the slut’s greedy tongue slipped out and probed every aspect of her friend’s pussy. Fascinating. While she worked on her friend’s pussy, I got behind her for a better view and just slipped into another welcoming pussy. I pumped while she licked and we had a great time.

I resolved that I would find a time to practice this little stunt myself.

It did not take ten years to build Drako’s new palace. It did not even take five years. He was pleased. It was cool. He tiled the floors with pretty designs and they were cool, too. The walls, made of stone as thick as a man’s arm is long, kept the burning effect of the sun isolated. The workers who built it had enough gold to build themselves nice homes and the little Kingdom of Drakomaxos enjoyed great wealth.

For my part, I built another pool and a fountain near the quarry and opened a spa. The land around the spa became quite valuable and since it all belonged to Drakomaxos, he profited even more from the development.

Unfortunately, Aria’s prediction of more women flocking to our little home came true. We bought Basarti’s place next door and made him an offer to take it with everything in it, including his new wife and her maids. He took the sack full of gold Drakos and ran! We knocked a hole in the wall between our courtyards and Nimia rushed through and into our arms.

She was just as happy to be held by Aria as by me. She said she’d seen through her disguise at once and wondered if I was the new and improved version of her demon. We hushed her with our kisses.

I was glad Basarti was considered a small man. The various openings I was given to fill with my staff were all tight and slippery. And with Nimia, who I discovered had been a playmate with Aria before I came along, we had our own special games. I wedged my dick into her tight pussy while squeezing firm little titties in both hands. In the meantime, Aria threw a leg over Nimia’s head and settled her pussy down on Nimia’s mouth. We were both fucking the same girl at the same time and all three of us had a lively conclusion to our tryst.

I was not idle after working on Drakomaxos’ palace. I had other things to do. I had the spa, of course, and satisfying the variety of women Aria brought into our house was another full time job. But as a demon, I don’t need much sleep. I’ve never tested to see how long I could go without sleep, but it could be forever. I just enjoy sleeping, cuddled with my women. Eventually, all my lovers would be exhausted and I could work in Pinaruti’s magic room. I wanted to read all his magic books and examine all his plans so I could work magic I was not yet capable of. I was drawn back to his plans for either keeping me in a bottle or in the walls of Drakomaxos’ house. Nether option was comfortable. I actually tried stuffing myself into a bottle and you can imagine the results. But as I read the scrolls, I found several spells that were relevant.

There was one spell in particular that attracted me. It was a strange spell that would make a room bigger on the inside than on the outside. We were once again getting crowded in our little house, even with the addition of Basarti’s house next door. I really didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to myself—or not more than was already being drawn by the women who entered the house next door and never emerged. Only Aria and I used the door to Pinaruti’s house. Everyone else used the door to Basarti’s house, as if it were in no way connected to ours.

Expanding the inside of our home without changing the outside seemed like a great idea.

I practiced the spell repeatedly on small things, among which was a leather satchel I’d found. It was good leather and it responded well to the spell. I began seeing how much I could put in the satchel. At first, I tried simply stuffing a few of the jars from Pinaruti’s shelves into the bag. They went in with no difficulty. Bowls, ritual knives and other implements, mortars and pestles, and kettles. All went into the bag.

It was no heavier with all this in it than it had been when empty! I practiced other spells on the bag, making it impervious to water and sun, and opening up a gateway into it that was bigger than the bag itself. I also cast a look-away spell on it that would cause anyone but me to overlook it.

The bag wasn’t making any of our rooms bigger, though, so I abandoned it for a while and went to work on the bedroom. Before long, I had expanded the bedroom and the bed enough that all thirty of us crammed into the little house could sleep there comfortably. The girls thought the whole room was just orgy central, and spent their time convincing me. I did the same thing for the courtyard and put in a private pool that would accommodate all of us for our baths. The girls considered it the orgy satellite and spent their time convincing me. The result was that that we had a house and harem that we could all fit into. The oven could hold food for all of us. And we could all happily enjoy the bed together.

We were a happy lot.

I don’t want to talk about what happened to Aria.

That girl was a marvel. I believe most of the women who were in our house were there as much for her as for me. She might have been the love of my life. But, as I discovered later, 4,000 years is a very long life and it has room for many, many, many loves. It is less than reasonable to assume any one woman could be the love of such a long life. But she was certainly my first love and one never forgets the first.

After she passed away, the household was in chaos until I married Nimia and made her the head of the household. I never regretted that decision.

It was getting on to the time that I needed to move on or be exposed once more as the demon. I could feel the horns pressing against the inside of my skull.

Drakomaxos had a party to celebrate his newest wedding. Technically, at that time, monogamy was generally accepted, but some men of wealth and power had looked at the women in my harem and decided they need a similar variety of women. This was Drako’s seventh and youngest wife—a real beauty and the daughter of the neighboring king. By that time, the plan and process of building palaces had been purchased from Drako by several neighboring kings, who also bought the sandstone from him. One king had paid the price with his daughter.

It was a long party and we might have all been a little drunk. Drako might have been unconscious next to me. His lovely new wife, Portia, might have been under the table pleasuring my cock with her mouth. She was near to getting dessert when I suddenly realized what was happening.

“Stop! Stop!” I hissed. “You just married Drakomaxos!”

“Oh, pish! He married me. I didn’t marry him. I was traded for a scrap of paper and the promise of sandstone blocks from his quarry. I want this! I mean you. Take me with you, Bob. Let’s leave this place. Let me be your wife.”

It was against my better judgment, but I slipped an arm around Portia and left the party, with nearly everyone there still sleeping.

Once I was back in my own house, I realized what a terrible mistake I’d made. Drakomaxos was going to be upset. He would know I had stolen his bride. And I had no intention of giving the sleeping girl back to him. I went into the magic room and grabbed the leather satchel. Into it, I stuffed the scrolls from Pinaruti’s library and everything else that remained in the magic room. I looked into the bag and couldn’t see where everything had gone, so I stepped into it.

What a mess! Everything I’d put into it was there, but all jumbled up in a pile. I quickly worked a few transformation spells and before long had something resembling my house in the bag. I stepped out the door and into the magic room. I carried the bag into the rest of the house as all the little nymphets were awakening. I gave each one a couple of gold Drakos and shooed her out the door. All except Portia and Nimia. They clung to my arms and would not leave.

“Okay. If you refuse to leave me, you will need to be packed in my bag,” I said. Neither girl flinched. “I need someone to keep my house and put everything in order.” Both nodded. I held open the gateway and they stepped into the bag. I went around the house grabbing everything else that wasn’t attached—food, pots, pans, wine, statues, and decorative pottery—and I reversed the expansion spells on the bedroom and the courtyard. I stuffed everything I encountered in the satchel.

I was about to leave when there was a pounding on my door. I looked out from the rooftop and saw Drakomaxos, backed up by his entire army of over a hundred thugs.

“Bob! Where are you? Where is my wife?” he demanded.

“Your wife?” I asked innocently. I could almost hear her giggling in the bag. “Did you look under the table? That was the last place I saw her at your palace.” I thought that was an adequate qualifier to not be a lie. I hadn’t looked at her after I pulled her from under the table and hurried her out of the palace until we got to my house. The last time I’d ‘seen’ her at his palace, she was under the table. Sucking on my cock.

“I know you have her, Bob!” Drako insisted. “Come out here at once! You and she will both be put to death for this betrayal.”

“That’s unkind of you,” I said. “After all we’ve been through together? You’d do that to your old friend Bob?”

I was answered by a volley of arrows loosed from his soldiers into the courtyard of my home. That was enough for me. I grabbed the bag and skipped from rooftop to rooftop on my way out of town, interrupting more than one naked sunbathing woman who attempted to cling to me as I ran.

For the second time in my young life, I ran from Knossos ahead of Drakomaxos’ army.

Part II
Architect for a God

Image Credit: Fernando Cortes, ID173466851 licensed from Shutterstock.

5
Cast into the Sea

FROM THE DAY I was born, or created, or summoned from the primordial mass, I have been in love with the sea. Of course, it wasn’t literally that day. It was when I was exploring the rooftop of my—or Pinaruti’s—home that I saw the sea, glistening miles away and seeming to go on forever.

If you are a literalist and have visited the modern site of Knossos, and want to challenge my ability to see the sea from a rooftop in the ancient city, I encourage you to repair to hell. I am a demon. My eyesight is long. I saw the fucking sea!

As I was saying, I have always loved the sea. But I knew very little about it or what lay beyond it. So, when I left Knossos, I headed more or less directly to the sea, avoiding people as much as possible. As I walked along the northern coast of Crete, I watched the fishing boats and the sailing ships as they plied the waters, oars dipping into the waves, sails billowing with the wind. It was all quite romantic. I thought, what I would like to do is become a sailor.

The salt spray in my face, the wind in my hair, the smell of the sea all around me. Yes, I would describe it as romantic, and it represented my first boyhood dream of what I would like to be when I grew up.

I should mention that, as I wandered along the seashore, I did not simply ignore the babes in a bag. I had that bag on my shoulder all the time, and I wasn’t about to lose control of it. And I knew I had responsibilities to my ladies. In fact, I had no idea how getting picked up and thrown over my shoulder as I ran from Knossos would affect the contents of the satchel.

It turned out, not at all.

I found a cave in a cliff face overlooking the sea and pushed the bag into it. ‘Cave’ might be a glorious term for the hole in the rock that I found. It was scarcely larger than the bag itself. That really made no difference, because I could still open a gateway into the bag and step through it even though the gateway was larger than the hole in the rock and the bag was smaller. It was one of the many mysteries of the bag that I was to discover over time.

I found Portia and Nimia happily arranging the replica of our home in Knossos and making sure everything was in order. So were the other three ladies.

“Who are they?” I asked, pointing at three very naked beauties who were helping with the tasks.

“You put them here,” Nimia answered. “I guess there wasn’t much choice. They were among the nymphs living with us, but one night we were all playing in the pool and they were being especially naughty. You said that as a punishment, you would turn them into stone for one day and they would have to watch everyone else playing without being able to join in. When we escaped from Knossos, you grabbed the statues and shoved them in the bag. It was only a little while later that they returned to themselves. We’ve been keeping them busy, but they’re really horny.”

“But you need to do me first,” Portia said. “We hardly got started on our wedding night before that dirty old man came knocking on your door.”

I remembered that. I’d brought her home with me after the wedding feast, but we’d been so drunk that she collapsed in bed before we finished what we were doing—and I wasn’t going to finish without her. That’s when I panicked and started packing up to leave. I sent everyone away, but when Drakomaxos came pounding on the door, I stuffed Portia and Nimia into the bag. With the statues. Ah well. There was nothing to do about it now but take Portia to the bedroom and finish the process of deflowering her. Once her maidenhead was gone, she became a sex maniac akin to what my dear Aria had been.

I learned a lot about what I came to call the infinity room in those hours—or days—or years. I don’t know how long we were there. For all I know, time was running backward. Time in the infinity room is not in sync with the world outside. There is no sensation of time passing. The girls had happily worked setting up our house. They had eaten and slept. They worked and made love. But as far as they could tell, I’d only just put them into the bag and then followed them. We picked up conversations and tasks as if I’d just turned around.

I had a lot of work to do in studying the amazing room. I’d worked the spell, but apparently, I had no idea what was included in it. I was going to need to study the scroll and see if I could decipher some of the side effects. You know, that mumbo jumbo written on a prescription bottle that says, ‘May cause diarrhea, swelling of the joints, double-vision, and other serious side effects, including death’? The fine print has been around as long as written documents have. In the scrolls, spells were carefully and clearly written, but the margins were filled with the notes of various wizards who had experimented with the spell and written a commentary on how they’d altered it or what their experience had been. Pinaruti’s scrolls were already ancient when I retrieved them and had many margin notes.

I told the girls that I’d decided to become a sailor and they were all excited about taking a cruise. They’d each heard tales of various mythological places they wanted to visit. I agreed that I would try to find a map.

I left the infinity room and tossed the bag over my shoulder once again. As I traveled, I hunted or gathered fruit and grain, which I delivered to the babes in the bag. The girls put it away and rewarded me handsomely when I got home. It was getting easier and easier to consider the room home. The five wet and willing pussies were all the reward a man (or demon) could want after a hard day’s labor.

Did you know that Minoa had the first navy in the world? It dominated the Central Sea for centuries. I suppose it started out as a couple of rowboats with an archer in the bow, but most of the traders were either Minoan, or were protected by the Minoan navy. The ships of the day were pretty much flat-bottom barges equipped with sails and auxiliary oars, but they floated and that was good enough for me.

I knew that if I wandered along the coast long enough, I would come to a place where the ships came to port. I felt, however, that the Adonis look had served more than its purpose and I could feel my horns pushing out. I wore a hood over my head as I traveled, looking for a good model for a new body. I needed something a little more down to earth, so to speak. Since I planned to go to sea, I searched along the coast for a fellow I thought looked handsome enough and strong enough to be a sailor.

I found him in a village drinking house where I had my first taste of sour beer. Personally, I liked wine better, but I learned to get along with the beer. I saw a fellow who matched the description I’d built in my head and had a drink with him. I found that he was a thoroughly boring young man with little to talk about other than the fish he almost caught. Nonetheless, I got his pattern set in my mind, and while he stood at the latrine to get rid of the beer he’d drunk, I whispered the transformation spell. By the time he was finished, so was I. He looked at me a little funnily and started to say something, but cut himself off. Finally, he said, “Sorry. Thought you looked familiar.” Then he left.

So did I. I kept to the shadows until I was well away from the fishing village and found another cranny in the rocks where I could conceal the satchel and open a gate into it. I just had to show the girls my new body. They all wanted to test it to make sure it still functioned in a way that pleased them. I passed that test.

I came upon the seaport town of Mania where there was a big project of some sort going on. Hiring agents were bringing in laborers from all around the district. By bringing them in, I mean they tapped their intended laborer on the head until he could no longer resist, and dragged him to the king’s work camp. They decided that a strong young man like me should become a laborer and attempted to tap me on the head as well.

Apparently, the thugs sent out to recruit help had never run into someone who tapped them back.

I considered my options as I looked at the two unconscious men at my feet and read their memories. I hadn’t done much of that since reading Pinaruti’s memories from his dead body. These were even less pleasant. In fact, reading the list of heinous acts the two had committed convinced me they had no need for their liberty. I stripped them of their clubs and clothing, tossed them over my shoulder, and took them to the bounty office. I dumped them on the floor.

“I have two to turn in,” I said. The bursar looked at me skeptically and glanced at the men. It was obvious he recognized them.

“And why are you not on the work crews. I’ll send for my men and have you stripped. Then I can collect the bounty on all three of you,” he laughed, moving to call for reinforcements.

“I tap harder than they do,” I said, lifting the surprised bursar off his feet and out from behind the desk. He spluttered in surprise as I stared him in the eye.

“No offense intended. No offense. It was a joke,” he stuttered.

“I don’t have a sense of humor.”

“Let me just get you your money!” I set him back down at his desk and his hand shook as he pulled two strange coins from his pouch and placed them on the table.

I’d lied to him, but had no remorse. I actually have a very good sense of humor for a demon. I love a good joke. I convinced him that I was humorless and considered that to be a joke on him.

“What’s the king need all the workers for?” I asked.

“He’s got a stone quarry and says he’s going to build a grand palace. Needs more laborers to move the stone because it’s that heavy, don’t you know. These two are a little on the scrawny side for laborers, but we’ll use them. Now if you could collect us a few good strong fellows—like sailors—I’d be able to pay more for them.”

I left the slave office and decided I needed to meet this king who was having so much difficulty.

I had to tap several guards on the head before I finally got an audience with King Idiopheles.

“And what do you have to offer me besides your back and strong muscles?” the king demanded when I stood before him and presented my proposal.

“I hear you’re having problems moving the stone for your palace. They do get pretty heavy. I built Drakomaxos’ palace over in Knossos. I know how to get the stones moved and keep the laborers from revolting.”

“I heard Drako’s architect ran off with his wife,” Idiopheles speculated as he squinted his eyes at me. “No. That couldn’t have been you. He was said to be the most handsome man on the island.”

“I think I’m pretty good looking, but I don’t think I’d merit being called the most handsome man on the island. Drakomaxos and I had a disagreement about paying me once the palace was built. I collected what I was owed and left.”

“What do you want in order to get my palace built? One of my wives?”

“Oh, no. Have enough of my own, you know. Want to fuck all the time. What I want is to become a sea captain. I need a ship and a crew and a captain who will teach me everything I need to know.”

“Hmm. I see. Well, if that’s all you want, I think we can make a deal.”

I could read from his mind that the deal he wanted to make was to get me to build the palace and then sell me to a shipmaster. For the time being, though, I took the deal the way I intended it and set about building the sleds that would lighten the workers’ loads.

Meeting the workers told me I needed to do more than lighten their loads. They at least needed better food. Strong men came to work and in a short time they’d become weak men.

“A house built by slaves will crumble about its owner’s ears,” I intoned to the king.

“Oh, fuck that. I’ll grant them extra food, but they can be free after they’ve finished,” Idiopheles declared. He had a lot of men at his disposal and his press gangs kept bringing in more. I didn’t waste any time getting the palace built. It was bigger than Drakomaxos’, but once I lightened the loads, the building went quickly—especially as the men got stronger with better food and worked harder with the promise of freedom as soon as the project was built.

“Now, about my ship,” I said as we toured the completed palace and he began moving in. I’d already dismissed the laborers and even managed to give them each a coin for their labor as they left. I wanted them all far away when the walls of this palace began crumbling. I was going to make sure of that.

“Oh, I have a captain who will take you on as a swab,” Idiot laughed.

“I think you have misunderstood our deal,” I growled. He looked at me and for a moment I simply let my horns show through. “When you make a deal with a demon, you should always keep it.”

“Um… uh… A demon? Well, of course I’d keep my deal with a demon. I simply misunderstood the terms. A ship, you say. With a captain and crew. It will be ready for you in the morning at the wharf.”

I nodded and walked away.

I knew he would still try to get out of it, but for now he had to scurry about and get a ship for me. I spent my time that night, wandering the city with a watchful eye, sticking to the shadows and watching the king’s thugs looking for me. I wasn’t quite invisible, but it would take a sharp eye to find me in the shadows. By the time the sun rose, a dozen weary thugs sat themselves at the wharf and watched for me to come and claim my prize. That told me which ship I should board. I stopped at the ship just before it and slipped aboard unnoticed. Sailors were untying the lines.

“When’s this new sailor going to be here?” the captain of the next ship yelled. “The tide’s going!”

That was all the signal I needed. I jumped from one ship to the other, landing lightly on the deck.

“I’m here and ready, Captain,” I said from beside him. He was so startled he nearly fell backward of the ship, but I steadied him.

“Cast off!” he yelled. Our ship began to move, leaving the puzzled thugs standing on the wharf.

I happily bent to the tasks of learning the ship from the old captain. This was something I could do and not constantly make mistakes. It seemed I needed only to disconnect my mind from my body and let the body carry on with the tasks. I was happy and contented on the ship. The salt spray in my face. The wind in my hair. The smell of the sweaty sailors working around me. Well, everything has a down-side, I’m afraid.

I loved seeing the different ports we put in at, and soon learned that no matter where in the port I went, I needed to be back aboard my boat when the tide went out. At each port, I traded for goods, following the captain’s example. Only the goods I traded for, I slipped into the satchel when I joined my girls at night. Having time with the girls was difficult. This ‘ship,’ as I indicated, was little more than a barge with a sail. There were no private quarters where I could secure the satchel and step inside. That had to be done in port.

I don’t know how long I’d been sailing. Time was as meaningless to me at sea as it was in the infinity room. I was often the only one awake on the ship and seldom slept at all. It was, however, during one of those rare sleeps that I was visited in a dream.

Dreams were something new to me. I only slept when I was bored or drunk. Or fully sated. But this time, my sleep was invaded by a supernatural being.

I had dealt with gods before. Zeus visited me in the cave and I found him to be a very down-to-earth kind of deity. He liked human women as much as I did and we regularly drank and fucked whoever Ariane brought to us. And Ariane.

The golden being who visited me in my dream was different. He seemed to have no interest in human women at all. Or in anyone. He carried a golden shield and spear. He flew so fast that his legs looked like a storm tearing across the land, great wings flapping. Lions prowled by his side roaring above the tumult.

Every time I closed my eyes, this god would invade my sleep, gesticulating wildly and speaking in a tongue I could not understand.

“Why not just tell me what you want?” I asked the image one night. It froze with a puzzled look on its face, then vanished.

The next night, another shining man stood in front of me. I could tell, however, that this wasn’t a god, but was some kind of messenger he’d arranged. He held a beautiful blue stone in his hands, smooth and highly polished. He handed it to me and I recognized a kind of map. I puzzled over it.

I’d built two palaces and had drawn plans for them. It didn’t take me long to realize this polished piece of lapis was the divine equivalent of a drawing on a napkin, describing a plan for a kind of palace. I started to say something to the man but he had disappeared, leaving me the tablet. And I was awake.

I carefully put the tablet in my satchel, knowing the girls would find a good place for it.

This kept up for days. I didn’t even need to be asleep, but everyone around me seemed to be snoozing when I was visited. I got maps. I got a brick mold. I got a drum I didn’t know how to play. A stallion appeared before me and a chariot of silver and gold jewels on the ship deck. I couldn’t let the men on the ship see these things, so I managed to hand them all off to the girls in the infinity room and they took care of everything.

Then, instead of the man, a woman appeared to me with a silver stylus, writing on a smooth clay tablet. I felt there was a command for me there, but I couldn’t understand what it was. I was a kid! In terms of my life experience, I was a randy teenager. Life was about sailing and fucking.

As my frustrations grew over these continued visitations, the weather seemed to reflect my attitude. When I closed my eyes, I saw a tree with so many birds chattering in it that I would never be able to sleep. When I opened them, the waves were breaking over the bow of our little ship and the rain whipped across the deck.

“Are you going to sleep through your death?” the captain screamed at me. “Don’t you care that we are all going to drown in this storm?” The boards of the ship creaked and threatened to break apart.

Then I saw the man again, in a flash of lightning pointing off the ship and I finally figured out one thing clearly.

That was a preview of Bob's Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon--Volume 1. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «Bob's Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon--Volume 1» to Cart