Chapter 1

It had been a while. A lot had happened. Mostly really good things. A lot of really great things. Hardly any bad things. In fact I can't think of any.

Three weeks since Nick's and others' words and Naomi's drawings had brought us magically to long ago places and long dead people, except for angels and eternal wanderers of course. Leaving that bucolic, rustic theater on Cass Lake in Minnesota, we took up residence in its opposite, Boston. Cold glass and steel at its center, warmer brick and mortar around it. An ocean instead of a lake, even a somewhat large lake, beside it.

We left just after a crescendo of creativity. "Dorothy: the Wizard of Oz Transformed," we called it. I liked "transmogrified" better, and a longer, more explanatory subtitle, adding "a Performance Piece," had been expunged, both rejections probably making it less confusing to most people. "A Lakota Wizard of Oz," had been rejected as subtitle, and "The Wizard of Cass Lake." The former because we weren't quite comfortable with it. It wasn't quite true or was misleading. The latter, because the wizard in this version wasn't a wizard. The sham wizard of the movie became an actual shaman, and meeting him brought Dorothy spiritual awakening. And a less spiritual kind which a jail bait Judy Garland would never have been allowed, that of the erotic (though never explicit to deal with the diversity of ages and sensibilities of the audience).

In the end, the Dorothy of the performance piece didn't recite the mantra, "There's no place like home," but, just as Naomi had, she realized she couldn't stay, didn't belong, but had been changed for the better by the experience and by the brief love she shared with the shaman.

Anyway, the five performances, Thursday through Monday, had been amazing. Audiences hadn't been huge to say the least, but, as Xo might say, they had been enough. We actually couldn't accommodate huge. We advertised effectively, posting really cool posters, created by Naomi of course, around campuses and museums and theaters, and sending them to professionals and students involved in the arts. Some of the core of creators, including Naomi, Lindy, Tash, Vance, Angelique and me, participated in a surprisingly lengthy interview during afternoon drive time on Minnesota Public Radio. I thought my wives Shira and Helena should join us, but they disagreed.

"You instigated it, Shira," I pleaded, "and you wrote the first section, Helena."

"But you six did the most work," Shira argued.

"And six is probably more than enough," Helena added.

"And already contains our best charmers," Shira finished.

"Then maybe I'll pass," I said.

"Why?" Shira insisted, "You're one of them."

I surprised myself by proving her right. Perhaps having been a disc jockey on the University of Hawaii's student station made me comfortable on radio, but I found myself explaining the piece quite succinctly and even eloquently, I think making it as interesting as possible. Naomi used a pleasant enough Midwestern twang as she brought the greatest enthusiasm to the interview, praising the rest of us in giving her such beautiful words and music and movement. Both Tash and Lindy proved wry and amusing, Vance quietly erudite. But Angelique won the day, her heavy French accent, sexy and quietly excited, charmed and stirred every libido that heard her, as she listed her impressive résumé, (at the interviewer's insistence) before expressing her thrill at creating site specific music and being inspired by the primal tribal music.

"I spent hours listening to the drum beats and the sing song chanting before I got it," she admitted. "But boy did I get it. It changed me," she actually sniffled.

"Did you end up composing for the chanting?"

"No. Nor the drum. There's a specific Lakota chant for the lake that we used, with the local chief's permission of course. I composed music for my sisters and me to play. And for voices. Much like Lindy's unique choreographic stage movement, I actually composed music for the dialogues and the monologues, extremely mimetic, based on real talking, and more a guide than a specific note by note score. Except for the two voice chorus that happens throughout, and even then I composed mimetically. And the background music as well. I based it as much as possible on background sounds, on what fills silences between words in each setting."

"Like birdsongs?"

"No. Not much birdsong at night. Insects and wind and water, things like that. There's a bit of howling in the outside settings, and a bit of creaking indoors and out. I thought about adding the sound of scratching, scurrying mice indoors, musically of course, but mice kind of freak me out."

See. Charming.

Like I said, we had sufficient audiences throughout the performances. Perfect, actually. We figured Thursday and Monday would be our most problematic, so we allowed the local Lakota in free on Thursday, and students in free on Monday. Any and all students. It being Labor Day, we figured the day before most classes began would have the most students returned to campus.

I should say free for the performances. We charged only ten dollars for it. Another five dollars gave them a coupon for dinner. Whoever chose to eat had to pay for it. As cheap as fast food, it wasn't much of a sacrifice, and far superior.

Chanda and her virtually invisible assistants recorded everything every night. Three cameras and I don't know how many mics. Her excitement led us to wonder if she planned on creating a film out of it.

"Of course. A wonderful, completely unique film."

"But will we have to have every audience member sign some sort of consent form to be in the film?" Vance asked.

"None will be seen after editing."

"But the audience plays a significant part," Vance questioned. "You yourself said you didn't wish to film rehearsal, that the energy would be better with an audience. Will you edit out laughter and applause? Or if included, won't it sound canned or something?"

"Good point. But everyone doesn't need to sign releases. I will pick and choose, and have those sign afterwards."

"You'll know before they leave?" I asked.

"Of course," she smiled, deservedly confident.

Few saw every show. My best friend Bob was one. He and Michiko arrived home a couple weeks before, moving into the house that Seraphine and I found in a charming neighborhood near the University of Minnesota campus. Old but well kept, further improvements, including a luxurious kitchen and main bathroom with an extra-large shower, waited until Keiko returned to work and Bob could stay at the camp.

If anything could be considered a low point, Seraphine separating from me might have been. But it didn't end up being all that low. We had a night together preceding her lovers' arrival from Europe. Master and Vache as expected. I found new ways to tie her up, and fuck her every orifice. I made her air tight as they say all by myself with cock in ass and dildos in pussy and mouth, her hanging inches above the bed in a complicated web Gia had showed me. Her rosy glow had an equal cause of hand and crop impacts as it did three ever intensifying orgasms. The last seized her so thoroughly that she passed out. In her unconscious state, I carefully released her from the ropes and settled her onto the bed, pulling her into my arms so that she awoke with her head resting against my chest. She kissed each of my nipples before shifting upwards and capturing my lips with hers. After several kisses, with loving glances between, she murmured, "Thank you, Joe."

"My pleasure my love."

"You do love me."

"Yes I do."

"I love you."

"I know."

"Will you let me visit? Will you be my master?"

"Anytime you need me."

"I always need you. My memory will feed my need, especially of tonight. But I know I will want refreshed memories."

"Of course."

"Even if I can give you nothing about Simon?" she said with deadpan humor.

"Will he no longer be an influence?"

"I don't know. I might not even notice. Robert is his minion."

"Yes."

"But doesn't know."

"Probably not."

"So he probably won't notice."

"Probably not."

"He will be my master, Joe, even if not like this. I will be agreeable to his whims. I will be proud in his presence, but not like I used to be. You changed me too much. And I will be Michiko's mistress, because she wants that, even if she doesn't want the same of Robert."

"Sounds complicated."

"I think a threesome such as we wish to sustain has to have its interrelation dynamics. That's how I see it, how it needs to be. But Michiko isn't a minion I don't think of any of them. She's a free spirit, if a bit needy."

"Sure. The way she needed Christa. The seduction of Christa's lover's asshole ex."

"Until Simon tried to rape her. Maybe that will be her purpose, to see her lovers going in a direction at Father's impetus that makes no sense to her, or seems counter to her beliefs. I don't know what that would be. New friends that make her uncomfortable. Or the way we raise the child you put inside me. I will try to listen to her, like I listen to you. If it threatens things, brings conflict to her and Robert, I will contact you. Coming to see you would be better."

"You're always welcome, Seraphine."

"I believe that now, and it makes me happy. I feel like I can let go and love my lovers, be happy with them."

"Good."

"One more time? Just loving me?"

"Thought you'd never ask, you lovely, sexy creature."

"You are too," she giggled. After bouncing off the bed to fetch soapy and damp cloth to clean my soiled penis, once the task had been completed, she returned to our loving position, her draped along my side kissing me, and we began making love.

We proved our fondness for each other's bodies, kisses enjoying various parts, moving slowly towards our sexes. Soixante-neuf got me ready. She had no need to be gotten ready. Her juices continued to keep her pussy slick, more when she climaxed from my mouth.

"I need you," she moaned at the crest of it, so I shifted her onto her back and me between her thighs, and she guided my spit slicked cock to its lively and welcoming home.

"Oh Joe," she moaned.

Not many words after that. Just appreciative sounds. We kissed. Sucked tongues. When mouths separated, eyes communicated more than lips and tongues had. When they shut we kissed again. And so it went for a long time, impossible to know the length of our slow fucking.

"Fuck me, Joe," she gasped, her pelvis tilting and lifting against me, hurrying the pace for the first time. Grasping her breasts, my fingers squeezed and twisted her nipples, gradually harder matching my harder and faster thrusts. She came and came again minutes later, my pounding relentless, the intensity of her second orgasm pushing me over, and my orgasm seemed to fuel hers, extending it, as if my spurts contained accelerant for her ecstasy.

"Shit," I said upon recovering, seeing the windows light up from the arrival of dawn.

My slave actually laughed, but I forgave her. I had retired her from that relationship for the time being, or vice versa. "Rest, Joe," she said. "I'll go pick them up."

"How long before you need to go?"

She slipped out from underneath me. I watched her lovely backside stretch when she leaned down to find her phone in the large purse on the floor. Pulling it out, she looked at the time on it.

"Two hours," she said.

"Set the alarm," I ordered.

"Yes Master," she giggled.

"None of that," I responded.

A moment later, setting the phone on the small bedside table, she moved her body against my side, showing me her complicated smile, happiness and melancholy mixed, and murmured, "I know," and kissed my lips softly.

After a sigh, she slept and I soon followed.

We both awoke to the beeping. "What are you doing?" she asked me when I followed her out of bed.

"I'm joining you meeting my best friend," I said.

"Okay," she smiled.

We went out naked into the balmy morning and showered together, enjoying caressing each other's skin, getting pleasure out of it, but not following that pleasure to its usual result. We dried ourselves and dressed with speed. I brushed her lush dark hair while she applied paint to her face, adding to her beauty, creating a subtle mask.

I wasn't surprised to find Lindy working in the theater when we stopped off there for a quick breakfast, even if my trip into the cities had brought a reprieve of rehearsals that morning. Our genius choreographer could not be stopped, and neither could her genius composer lover. Angelique played electric piano, a synthesizer actually, presently sounding exactly like an acoustic piano. Her infamously slutty Spanish half-sister Consuela accompanied her on viola. Lindy worked on moves with my sexy black mortal wife, Shira in what looked like a sort of lesbian pas de deux. Yum.

"Hey," Lindy greeted me with her wonderful tilted head smile. My wife greeted me more fully with an embrace and a kiss.

"We're headed to the cities," I said.

"We know," said Lindy.

"Of course," I chuckled.

"Are you going to stay with them?" asked my wife.

"Miss me already?" I smirked.

"I always miss you, Joe," she said seriously.

"Sorry."

"No. It's just that you never said if you planned on staying with them."

"You're right!" I replied, surprised at myself for not planning anything beyond meeting my high school best friend and his lover at the airport. I looked at Seraphine and all her complexity. "You should be with them tonight," I said. "You'll be needed for rehearsal tomorrow evening."

Lindy shook her head. "We can work around you for a couple days," she said to Seraphine, "until Michiko goes back to work."

Seraphine and I studied each other's emotions for another moment. We nodded. "That would be great," said Seraphine. "Thanks Lindy."

"Good, because our idiot stud forgot to plan ahead," Lindy shook her head. "Plan on a Buzz clone to pick you up?"

"I..."

"Thought not."

"I'm driving down with Lindy," Shira said. "I want to meet Bob and Michiko. And you and Seraphine can have a nice ride down together."

"Okay," I smiled at my sexy wife. "What about Angelique?"

"Consuela and I want to work on this piece," Angelique replied.

"It's lovely," I said.

"It is," Consuela grinned.

"Thank you," Angelique bowed and blushed at the compliment, her humbleness undeserved and charming.

Meeting Bob and Michiko at the airport didn't go as I envisioned it. Bob looked tired. Michiko, used to travel, didn't. Neither looked happy to see us, or more specifically, each other. Except Michiko became happy when she saw Seraphine. They embraced, the Sapphic nature of their relationship made clearer when they kissed. "I need you to make this work," I heard Michiko whisper directly into Seraphine's ear.

"A lover's spat?" I asked Bob.

"More a battle royale," JB replied, shaking his head. "For the last couple days. Too much of a good thing, I guess."

"How's Sheila?" I asked him of his Scottish Amazon lover.

"Good, though I miss her. I plan to meet her in Boston."

"So, no college?"

"I'm going to check out Boston, the land of colleges."

"She might not end up there if she joins Lindy's company," I reminded him. He shrugged.

"You look good," said Bob.

"You not so much," I replied honestly.

"I..." he sniffled, something I had never seen in him.

"Come here," said Seraphine.

In the embrace, I heard Bob mutter, "I'm losing her."

"Not going to happen, Robert. She just needs us to be three."

They kissed as heatedly as Michiko and Seraphine. When it ended, he chuckled within a quiet sob, "Too much penis."

"Probably. Being exclusive. Not something she is used to. You didn't bring another lady to your bed?"

"No. Perhaps I was a dickhead. But I love her so much."

"And I love you," Michiko sniffled. "And I'm sure I could have talked you into a threesome. Except I don't do that. Not without passion. Not with my love."

"But..." Seraphine started, watching her lovers embrace.

They both looked at Seraphine and smiled. "You excite us," said Michiko.

"She needs you," said Bob.

"We need you," Michiko insisted. They nodded together, like psychically connected lovers, and reached out to Seraphine for a three-way hug. Three sighs of contentment proved Michiko statement, and that Seraphine needed them as well.

When the embrace broke, Michiko gazed at me with predatory eyes. "Bob's right," she said.

"About what?" I asked.

"You do look good."

"Uhm."

"Maybe later," she giggled. "Hi Lindy. Who are you?" she asked Shira.

Shira introduced herself. "I'm Lindy's new dancer."

Lindy shook her head and chuckled. "You're much more than that."

Draping my arm across Shira's waist, I pulled her against my side. "She's my wife," I told my friends.

"But ... What about Helena?" asked Bob, completely confused.

"And Eva, and don't forget Zhenzhen," Michiko reminded him with a smirk.

"But ... you married Helena."

"Helena is his first, and our first," Shira explained. "But my sister-wives accepted me," she beamed.

"What is it with you and gorgeous, sexy women?" JB asked.

"Thanks," Shira smiled at my big boned friend.

"Fuck if I know," I shrugged.

"A devil's tongue," JB guessed.

"Amongst other things," Shira giggled.

Michiko got what she wanted from me, though a couple weeks later. When she gazed at me at the airport, it brought me an uh-oh moment. Whatever I had that attracted women, to the point that they actually wanted me to impregnate them, seemed to increase exponentially when my telepathic abilities coalesced. I saw it in her eyes.

But we waited. The threesome had their time together. Through it, whatever threatened Bob's and Michiko's relationship ended. They loved each other more than ever. And they loved Seraphine, and Seraphine loved them.

We waited until the last moment possible, at least while I resided in the area. Michiko's schedule allowed her to see our final performance, and they planned to move into their improved residence afterwards.

"Go with them," Helena insisted, after the performance. "You won't be seeing Seraphine for a while, and I can tell Michiko has a mighty lust for you that needs sating."

"We will pack for you," Zhenzhen added. "You can meet us at the airport." She meant the private airport with a private jet large enough for the contingent of angels and mortals heading to Boston.

"Will you make her pregnant?" asked Yoshie, Xo's Japanese angel, who had been the last of those angels I fucked in a marathon of fucking and had become a continued lover, mostly when I spent a night with Tash and Naomi and their shared lover Kai, the future Shaman of his people, but sometimes sharing a bed with my wives.

I laughed and shook my head. "Michiko's on the pill, and I plan on purchasing condoms on the way just in case."

"Good idea, stud" said Shira, rubbing her belly. We laughed.

I expected Michiko's objection when I asked to stop at a convenience store. I probably shouldn't have mentioned why. I didn't expect Bob's objection. "I have some," he said.