Chapter 3

I wasn’t exactly in the mood for sex after the terrible revelations of the evening, but both Gia and Helena insisted Seraphine needed me. And I did want to salve my curiosity about the Pereire women and my suspicion the evil old Jewesses might be part of whatever dangerous situation in which Nick and Xo required the three assassins to accompany them. I waited a half hour with my wives in our loft apartment as instructed quietly mulling over the scary possibilities Nick revealed, mostly calming Eva who didn’t want to look her age, with hopeful arguments about my effect on her, and the baby’s, before heading to the smaller loft Gia and Han shared.

It didn’t surprise me finding Seraphine suspended above the bed face down strung up with intricately knotted rope, nor that her lovely, full buttocks sported red handprints. Nor the words that exited Gia’s smirking mouth. “Skull fuck her, Joe.”

“Please,” Seraphine murmured.

“Quiet, Vache,” Gia growled, creating another red print, even though she knew I needed our slave’s permission.

Removing my boxers, the only thing I wore, I stood in front of the Jewess displaying my flaccid penis. Perhaps anticipating this problem, the two oriental assassins had freed one of her arms enough for her to grab it and bring it to her mouth. That damp, warm active place, along with the needy, loving, appreciative eyes of my slave managed to give growth to my cock. Lips and hand gripped and pulled. Tongue stroked my glans. Her eyes pleaded when her attentions succeeded. I grabbed her thick dark hair and thrust my hips forward, sending her lips to the base of my cock and my glans into her throat.

Watching her eyes, I saw the tearing, a bit of suffering as I pumped in and out of her gullet. But I also saw the love there. I could see when it got too much. A cringe. A touch of fear. Withdrawing, I moved behind her and saw her filled by a butt plug and Gia’s hand thrusting inside her pussy. All fingers and her thumb. Gia withdrew and I entered her pussy.

“She brought the plug,” Gia explained. “And she needs the punishment, the talkative bitch.”

I pounded deep and hard. The rope enabled her to swing into me to make it harder, controlled by Gia. Han had taken my place in front of her, a strap-on dildo entering Seraphine’s throat, but not as often or as abusively as I had been. More of the abuse happened with harsh pulls of Seraphine’s nipples. And I added pulls and pushes on her plug, which helped accelerate her swinging.

“Cum, Vache,” I heard Han murmur, withdrawing the dildo from her throat. Seraphine must have learned to keep silent. Only the gasps had any volume. But she trembled, and she coated my balls with plentiful liquid.

“She brought the plug,” I said, and pulled it out at the tail-end of her orgasm, a bit roughly as I could see her body tighten. Immediately my cock, coated with the liquid expression of her pleasure, entered the widened asshole. Her sphincter barely needed further opening. I pushed deeper quicker than I ever had in that delicate place, and within a few strokes, I buried my entire cock inside her. The swinging began again, while Gia plugged her pussy with an extra-wide vibrator that sounded like it had been set at the highest vibration.

I don’t know how many times she came. Her sphincter would flutter around my thrusting cock while waves of shivers would course through her body. Each climax seemed to weaken her until, when I finally poured my cum inside her bowels, her body hung inert. Even so, another flutter of her sphincter and another wave of shivers passed through her, and she finally expressed her pleasure and appreciation with a quiet murmur, “Master.”

We unbound her. She weakly asked to use the toilet.

“Go,” said Gia harshly.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She could barely walk, so Han helped her.

Gia and I sat on the bed. “She really needed that,” Gia said.

“Is it about the Pereires?” I asked.

“Those cunts and their stupid Jewish sanctuary,” Gia shook her head. The Pereire ladies had a mad plan to have a Jewish sanctuary not the homeland of Palestine the Zionists had been coveting for more than a century. They owned an island amongst the Canary Islands outside the coast of Morocco. Probably Simon purchased it for them, even if they had quite substantial wealth of their own. Their idea actually had merit. Palestine would always be a contested place for Jews what with its long occupation by Moslems, and the Moslem states that surrounded it. But, knowing the haughty elitism of the ladies, any safety the island would provide would only be for those Jews they chose to be worthy of it. The rest would be left to hang, so to speak.

“They have moved there, and some Israelis have been joining them,” I guessed.

“I shouldn’t be discussing it,” Gia muttered.

“You haven’t been,” I smiled and pulled her into a kiss. It lasted long enough for me to harden, and for her to reach down and encourage it. I pressed my fingers into her strong buttocks, letting the pointing ones slips between them to find dampness at her pussy lips.

“The cow wishes you to join her, Joe,” said Han.

“Let her wait,” Gia responded, keeping hold of my cock as she retreated to the bed and lay on it. The hold guided me into her horny hole. “Sit on my face, Sister.”

Balancing on my knees, I kept my hold on her butt, holding it inches above the bed, fingers continuing to massage her pussy lips and sliding against my thrusting erection.

Leaning forward, the incredibly beautiful Chinese assassin, Xo’s angel, kissed me. Her fingers busily stroked her fellow assassin’s clit or reached back to twist taut nipples, hands changing places to balance the pleasuring.

When Gia achieved a fearsome orgasm, Han smiled at me and said, “Go,” the simple word coated with a pleasured moan.

As soon as I withdrew my cock, creating a mewl of disappointment, Han replaced me there with aggressive finger fucks and clit sucking, Gia no longer disappointed.

My cock bounced in front of me when I entered the bathroom, the thing that gave it its name occupied by my gorgeous slave. Her eyes and lips lifted seeing the bounce. She gestured me to her, her focus giving me certainty of what part of me she wanted.

“Seraphine,” I murmured.

“I want to taste her. Gia, right?”

“Yes.”

“I just want to lick her off you.”

“Mmm,” I hummed in pleasure feeling her tongue taste her mistress. “Ooh,” I added when her lips embraced my shaft at the edge of my glans. Her arm reached over the edge of the tub. Its hand gently squeezed my balls. By far the gentlest blow job she ever gave me, it was easily the most enjoyable, furthered by her sensual body, tits shiny with wetness, subtly moving as her hand moved. When eyes shifted from them to her eyes, seeing the love and nothing else, seductive sensuality became something more. More erotic it seemed, because I immediately reacted.

“Seraphine!” I moaned, just her name in warning.

Her eyes brightened with a little bit of mischief as she sucked the cum from me, her hand pumping it our as if milking me. Even the overfilling of her mouth and her desperate swallows and the bitterness of my spend did nothing to change her expression.

I entered the bath, facing her. Taking the soap and washcloth, I cleaned away my cum she had missed before it dripped from her chin. I continued the cleaning, having her stand to reach her pussy and her anus which showed irritation. I kissed both, but didn’t linger. She did the same when she cleaned me. A loving peck of my glans, and a giggle when the half hard cock which it capped bounced a little and got a little harder.

Once the cleaning ended, we embraced, wet clean body against wet clean body, and kissed deeply. Tongues barely played, just tapping in greeting.

Mouths separated and she sighed. “Something bad is going on,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “Your family have gone to that island.”

“And others join them.”

“I know. Rich Israelis. The most conservative I imagine.”

“Conservative is complicated in Israel.”

“True.”

“The most cynical, I think.”

“Probably. And Simon?”

“I don’t know. He’s mostly cut me off. He helped with the move, but I don’t think he’s there now.”

“You knew he was there?”

“He became rather insistent that I join them. Me and my two lovers. Him and my grandmother. Of course I refused,” she cringed.

“Headache?” I asked, bitterness in the word. Naomi had told me how horrid his mind rape could be.

She nodded. “I called Gia. She talked to Han, who had Xo contact me. He helped me meditate and guided me to shift the pain. I think Simon sensed the process. A shooting pain like a nettle in my brain, but somehow lessened by its placement, like stepping on it. Still hurt of course, but somehow not as thoroughly. I think he realized what I had done, and the pain disappeared.”

“He wanted Bob?”

“And Michi. Bob thought it would be great to go. Michi and I convinced him otherwise. Mostly Michi. He could see she definitely did not want to be anywhere near Simon.”

Nodding, I rubbed her tummy where our child grew. “You know I could have helped lessen your pain.”

“I could not put that on my master.”

“Vache,” I nearly roared. “You don’t think I’d care?”

“Of course you care, Master. You care too much about this lowly slave.”

“Impossible. I should spank you for thinking such a thing, except you’d enjoy it.”

She allowed a smirk to form on her lips. “Not if it was hard enough ... Master.” More seriously she added, “But I did deserve punishment, for which my mistresses and you provided, even if I deserved worse, and I did enjoy it too much. Because you are right. I should have let you know Simon’s plans, and my family’s. Because the consequences...”

“Xo suggested you keep this to yourself?” I asked.

“He didn’t ... Oh my god, that fucker lied to me! Of course you could have helped. I have sensed you in my mind, most pleasantly I might add. He claimed ... he alone could guide me to wall off the pain. But all with instructions outside my mind. You could have guided me inside my mind, couldn’t you? It would have been so much quicker. And probably more effective.”

“Yes. Probably. With Xo’s help. He is the master of consciousness and the intricacies of the brain. He didn’t want me to know.”

“He never said specifically.”

“He probably would have if he knew you would come here.”

“Probably Gia ordering me not to. But she is my mistress only because you allow it. It would be more important to disobey her in order to tell you my concerns, because it concerns you, my lovely master, and your wives. Something terrible involving Simon and my family.”

“You came secretly, without verbal communication.”

“I conjured an excuse to come here. Some papers at NYU for research. I focused my mind on that until I arrived here.”

“You told your mistresses of your family’s actions.”

“And Xo,” she nodded. “But I had to make certain you knew.”

“You didn’t think any of them would tell me?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, I had to be certain. Maybe because Xo recommended I rest. Not travel, you know? But I realized I had to travel. I had to see you.”

“Not travel for your health.”

“And ... my safety. That fucker.”

“A wise fucker. He understood the benefit of keeping as many people in the dark as possible in case of reprisals. No one told me.”

“But you knew.”

“I knew some things that, when you came here needy, suggested the truth. Gia confirmed it only a little bit before I joined you in the bathtub. Speaking of which, I think wrinkling has set in.”

I opened the drain and turned on the water to get it to the proper temperature and shifted it to showering. We washed off our soapy bodies and stepped out of the tub and dried ourselves. At some point, Seraphine said, “Then I’m glad I came to tell you.”

“Me too, but I think we should keep it to ourselves.”

“If you think it’s best.”

“I do.”

“If it keeps things safer for your wives.”

“It will.”

“You know I’m safe. Simon would not endanger this child, nor Bob or Michiko.”

“I’ll never understand his interest in her.”

“The one who got away?” she shrugged.

I shrugged back. “And she does carry Bob’s child.”

“True.”

Once dressed, I insisted she join my wives. She had trouble hiding her concern when Eva approached her first.

“Better?” my gorgeous California blonde wife asked her.

“Yes,” she giggled, her complicated expression hopefully helping our secret from being subject to questioning.

It seemed to when her body made our huge bed full to capacity. Mortals slept, except me.

“Can’t sleep?” Helena asked me.

“A restless mind.”

“How about a late night walk?”

“Sure,” I smiled.

It had become a favorite thing of ours. Of each of my angel wives and me. I had found myself less and less needy of a long sleep. Only three or four hours seemed to be enough. My angel wives took turns walking with me in the city that never sleeps. Despite the cliché, we found few others around late at night. Mostly surrounded by galleries and stores, with the occasional bar sparsely attended during the week and the popular all-night diner four or five blocks away, not many things attracted traffic that late. West Broadway and Houston had its cars, but not that many, especially the former, and hardly any on the smaller streets. Walking hand in hand, fingers threaded, conversations quiet and occasional, it became a beautiful bonding ritual within the magical space of Manhattan at night.

“It’s the Pereire’s, isn’t it?” Helena asked soon after our feet met pavement.

I sighed. So much for secrets. “How did you know?”

“Mostly your mysterious conversation with Father and Xo, and Seraphine’s sudden arrival, looking particularly desperate and needy.”

“Neither eternal wanderers told me specifics of the situation, but made it clear something bad was happening.”

“Specifically?”

“No. Their company when they leave. The three assassins.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Leaving us in the dark?”

“To keep us out of the situation I think. We’re safe here with you and the angels. We’re safer not knowing I guess, and communicating our knowledge.”

“Eva?”

“I don’t think that’s a problem. Gia will probably reluctantly let Simon know their movements. In fact I think Eva is the least problematic, because she doesn’t have ties with her sister angels anymore.”

“Her wives are her sister angels now.”

“Exactly.”

“So it’s Zhenzhen and I letting the cat out of the bag.”

“I guess Simon will feel safer with just the wanderers and the assassins involved in dealing with whatever the fuck he’s doing. Less cornered.”

“Just shows what a fool he is.”

“Not that it needs showing.”

We shared a chuckle. “So why not Salomé?” Helena asked. “She’s our strongest warrior.”

“I asked the same thing. She’ll protect us.”

“Do you think Father will at least tell her?”

“Probably not. She’ll be extra vigilant when they leave anyway.”

“True. All this secrecy. It’s weird,” Helena muttered.

“And scary,” I agreed.

“Yeah.”

We continued our walk quietly, hand in hand.

I awoke early the next morning with another hand in mine, and lips against my lips. “Shower,” Eva insisted.

There, she asked if it was the Pereires.

A sigh mixed with a chuckle. “I should have known you’d figured it out. It’s not about your connection with Simon. No one is supposed to know. I told Helena last night you were the least to worry about spreading the news. My other two angel wives have sister angels they could tell.”

“So she knows.”

“She figured it out, just like you did.”

“Yeah. She’s almost as smart as me. What do you know?”

“Just that the Pereire’s are somehow involved.”

“The island sanctuary?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Nick and Xo are leaving only with the three assassins.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?”

“Not really.”

“Joe, if ... Father dies...”

“You’ll still be beautiful.”

“Joe. I’m nearly seventy.”

“You’ll still be beautiful.”

“I like being immortal,” she whined.

“And I hate the thought of losing you.”

We hugged. She sobbed in my arms.

“You know Zhen could be right,” I said to her. My adorable Chinese wife had been the one to suggest being pregnant with my baby, who might be Simon’s replacement, as a possible prevention of the sudden aging of Simon’s angel.

“It didn’t happen with Nana when Nick’s father died.”

“How do we know she hadn’t already become mortal like that poor Indian angel? And none of my angel wives have suffered that fate.”

“We don’t know that for certain.”

“You would have died when you jumped out of that van in Vegas,” I pointed out. “At least scraped to shit.”

“Maybe it’s gradual.”

“I remember Nick saying she developed a cold early in the pregnancy. And whatever I am, a mortal with strong seed, enough to impregnate three angels with possibly a new set of eternal wanderers, perhaps with the possibility of gaining my own immortality, I am not Nick. This is a whole other set of circumstances.”

“I’m being a vain bitch, aren’t I? And I thought you fucked the bitch out of me. I mean, it’s not like I’m alone in this. Helena’s nearly as old as I am. And it’s not like I have any control over what’s happening.”

“You’re scared.”

“No shit. I just ... Why didn’t Nick ask his mother about anything? His whole thing about giving man knowledge. Why wouldn’t he want to know about himself?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he just felt compelled not to. His mother seemed to want him not to. Maybe he just went with that, just like he does most everything. A decision that just seemed right.”

“A human child always asks why, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe being born a man lessened his curiosity.”

We shrugged and let things go somewhat. The terrible possibilities would have to be more visceral for Eva, but I felt the fear nearly as deeply. Everything seemed to be moving towards longer life for me and even possibly for my mortal wives. Nick’s tale had reversed such hope, making my first two wives, the ones I loved most, truth be told, possibly fated to be the first of us to die. But whatever happened, and we had no definitive clue about our fate, it wasn’t the present. We focused on that. Beautiful, naked flesh, wet and warmed by the shower, belonging to the person we loved. My cock rose. Her thighs enclosed it, having it rub against her pussy lips. Her clit. Getting her ready. Until she took position, feet on foot holes, bending knees to perfect height for my cock to enter her. My hands on her perfect ass. My face against perfect breasts. Her hands both reaching down, stroking her clit and caressing my balls. We focused on pleasure desperately to let it overwhelm us with remarkable swiftness. She came. I came soon after.

“Oh,” she reacted to the unexpectedly quick flood of cum spurting inside her throbbing depths. She smiled. She giggled. I smiled back, loving hers.

Soon after, joining our wives, I looked into Zhenzhen’s eyes. Somehow, with her breaking the gaze momentarily, a gestural break, moving her eyes to a sleeping Seraphine, and looking back into mine with sad, concerned meaning, I knew she knew. “Ssh,” I suggested. She nodded.

Another day of work began. Lindy rehearsed her dancers early as usual, with Angelique and her Helen clone sisters attending, providing live music. She rehearsed plays later in the morning, until nearly one, when Yoshie and some of her sister angels and Tash and Helena and Angelique and Zhenzhen and I took over the stage to work on Asian theater. In fact, of my wives, only Eva didn’t attend. Since Shira no longer danced with Lindy, she had found fascination in some of the movements involved with some of the Asian performances, especially the circular movement of Beijing Opera. Eva, along with the Irish Amazon Sheila continued working with Lindy as collaborators.

And speaking of collaboration, Tash and I continued ours. In the morning with our plays. Later with Yoshie and Helena with the Asian texts. Still later writing and editing Snake’s Tales, Lindy joining us. And yes, by and large, I no longer sat beside Lindy, her using me as a soundboard while she directed our plays. Somehow, when we did finally come together, it always felt like a reunion despite it being only a few hours of separation. BFF. Clearly, when the troupe went out to other places, we would miss each other greatly.

That evening, Nick added to our material for future editing.

“As hoped,” he began, “the cousin of the ruler led us into the ruler’s company. I spread my seed amongst the elite as well as some of the peasants, who indeed seemed especially poorly treated. Along with my seeding sperm, I also began seeding dissent, along with the company we had brought into the ruler’s lair. We readied the populace for a coup, the ruler’s cousin probably doing the most damage, swaying the minds of his former colleagues, officers of the army.”

“Cousin,” the dissipated, cruel ruler growls. “You dare enter my pleasure room?”

The room houses his harem and two guards he trusts, preferring their own company. He treats his harem no better than any other, taking pleasure without any concern about giving any. Humiliating them at every chance. He sits in the bath there, a too young slave skewered to his cock.

Full realization of his predicament happens when Nick and Ellil appear, carrying the guards in front of them and tossing the guards into the bath, the water reddening from a swirl of red emanating from each man.

“May I?” asks the oldest slave of the harem.

The soldier hands her a long blade.

“Get out of my way, sweetheart,” the older woman request gently, and with a cringe, the girl removes herself from the ruler’s cock and backs away, her look of satisfaction probably a first.

Momentarily frozen in shock, the ruler begins to make an attempt to escape, and finds himself held by three others of his harem. Two hold his arms, jumping into the bath beside him. Another grasps his neck with her arms. One of his weak slaves he can handle. Three he can’t.

“Pull him higher, ladies,” says their oldest. When they do, his diminutive, flaccid penis emerges. “For the harm your fat little piece of meat did to us,” she growls, stabbing his groin, emasculating him. He screams. “For the gluttony of your stomach.” She stabs her gut. “For the coldness of your heart.” She stabs his chest. “For the cruelness of your words.” She stabs his throat, silencing him.

“Go ahead, Nick,” says the soldier, grabbing the hair of his cousin. Nick swings his blade through the dead ruler’s neck, decapitating him. Ellil quickly encloses the head in a bag.

Nick’s two friends, one his gay lover, look at each other and shake their heads. Nick has warned them. Nick’s mother, in a rare bit of information, has told Nick to expect a great hunger for a corrupt man. About his consuming such a man. Of his unrestrainable need for it. Plans for the coup has brought him that hunger as soon as he sees its victim. But seeing the feast ready before him makes it overwhelming. Nick’s charismatically face becomes ugly. Feral. “Leave,” he growls.

“Here?” Ellil swallows.

“Yes. Go.”

“Ladies,” their new ruler proclaims. “We must leave.”

“But where will we go?” the oldest asks.

“Just follow me. Please.”

The last word makes the woman smile.

“Ladies. You heard our new master.”

The ladies giggle. The new ruler sighs. The room soon has only three dead and one live body. Nick consumes guts and muscle relentlessly until only skin and bone remains. He looks up from his terrible yet sweetly satisfying meal and sees two beautiful, pregnant women. They carry two large pots he thinks they shouldn’t be carrying in their condition.

“You shouldn’t... ,” he murmurs, his eyes tearing with guilt at the gruesomeness of his deed being witnessed by women he loves.

“Your mother told me this would happen,” Gula explains. “And I told our lover.”

He sees the determination in their eyes to be brave against this terrible vision. He also sees the pool of vomit in front of the younger beauty.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“You are who you are,” Gula shrugs. “And we love who you are.”

“Even now?”

“Yes,” they both say.

“Uhm,” says Gula, “we managed to carry these two pots between us. But I think you will have to lift them high enough to pour over yourself.”

He nods and pours one over his body. Sponges emerge from the other pot in a hand of each of his companions. “You ... don’t have to,” he suggests.

“After that display of strength?” Gula giggles. “You can’t keep us away.”

“Then maybe somewhere away from this?” he offers, lifting the second pot full of water. His ladies follow him past pallets on the floor to a much more opulent bed on the other side of the room.

His naked companions sponge away the viscera. Once done, he tells them to stand with him on the bed, and he pours the remainder of the water over each of them and then himself. Stepping off the sopping, ruined bed to a floor not as damp or showing any of what remains of the dead emperor, he guides them to the nearest pallet. Lying down, his lovers claim his cock and his mouth, Gula the one to take his shaft into her depths first, much moister than her younger fellow companion still affected somewhat by the gore and the feast. But even she loses such memories in ecstasy, and his cock fills her, as does his cum, just as those things have filled their lover. His enthusiasm, his need for both of them, creates ecstatic forgetfulness.

His friend, the new ruler, proves his worth. Power does not change him. The little empire becomes bigger, claiming territory once claimed by the ever weakening and shrinking Babylon, including, early on, the territory of the tribe of his first lover’s, at least the first he remembers. As expected, the leader of that tribe does not accept his brethren associated with Babylon back into the fold, despite it being their efforts that have returned the valley to his people.

The ex-Babylonians do no care. Some assimilate into this new conqueror’s empire. Others begin to establish their own tribe within the tribe in the coastal village. Others join a diaspora from Babylonia, heading north into Europe. Babylonia no longer being Babylonia soon enough.

Whatever direction the exiled members of the tribe takes, Nick, via his seed, joins them.

His awareness of this perhaps becomes his biggest surprise. His companions give birth to sons side by side at nearly the same moment. As soon as the babies emerge, wailing at the new, cold world, he senses the cause as if it is his own.

“Comfort them Nick,” his mother suggests. She has joined them, as has her longtime lover, the father to his first companion.

“How?” he swollows.

“Give them what they miss. The comfort of the womb.

He imagines a warm blanket enveloping them entirely, even their mouths. And yet breath becomes easy through it. They quiet. Become peaceful with this new world. And hungry. A nose smells sustenance. A tiny tongue tastes it. A tiny mouth sucks at it for more. Each son fills his empty belly.

“They are yours to command,” Nana explains.

“Whatever I command?”

“Yes. All who are created by your seed.”

“Like slave to a master?”

“Even more so. Because you negate their doubt.”

“That’s why you insisted I fuck around.”

“Yes. Although I think you felt impelled to do so without my suggestion.”

“Are they human?”

“Of course. They are not you.”

“But I own them.”

“Yes.”

“I’m creating an army of slaves.”

“I suppose you are. Their offspring as well will be subject to your power.”

“All of them at once?”

“You have a mind able to do such things.”

“And if I do not wish an army of slaves? If I want nothing to do with slavery?”

She sighs. “They can give you anything and everything you want.”

“And if I want them free to choose their life?”

“You could nudge them to your benefit if enslaving them bothers you.”

“And if I let them have their choices entirely?”

“And they choose things anathematic to what you would choose?”

“Perhaps an occasional nudge. Did my father not do what you would hope he would do with this power? Is that why you keep his life from mine?”

His mother’s shrug makes him sigh.

“Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

“In a way, I almost lost as much as you did,” Nana finally explains. “All those things I got from him through this ability you have just discovered. So much of my memory had been his given to me.”

“But you remember the man who fucked you and made me.”

“They have become shadows, uncertain in their definition.”

“You remember enough to guide me in some things. The consumption of the corrupt for instance.”