Bob's Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon Vol. 3
Copyright© 2022 by aroslav
Chapter 72: Stopping Traffic
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 72: Stopping Traffic - "Hi! I'm Bob and I'll be your demon tonight." But Bob is not your ordinary textbook demon. He was not imbued with any traits of evil. He's just your everyday, slightly horny, happy-go-lucky (mostly lucky) demon with 4,000 years of history as his teacher. This is the way Bob remembers it happening and he was there! (Tell that to your history prof!) It's a romp through the annals of time from a unique perspective. A little bit spooky. A little bit sexy. A lot funny. Vol 3: Current Era (Mostly)
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Paranormal Demons Polygamy/Polyamory
IT WAS ABOUT MIDNIGHT that night in Biloxi, when I saw what looked like a signal pass between a couple of tables. The men at both tables stood and headed for the door.
“Don’t leave now, boys,” the DJ announced as some others started to rise as well. “It’s shift change and to start things off we have fresh talent on the main stage. This is Darnelle!” A blonde stepped onto the stage and began dancing energetically as a few of the men sat back down. I’d seen what I needed to, though. The coincidence of the table I was watching leaving right at the shift change got me moving.
Outside, I didn’t see the men. I stepped around a corner into the shadow and released the ninja priestesses. I couldn’t imagine the guys trying to snatch the entire shift of over a dozen dancers, but I could well imagine they’d try for one or two. The priestesses disappeared into the night in all directions. I just watched. It wasn’t long. I saw the girls start to leave through the stage door. A bouncer accompanied them to see that they’d all make it safely to their cars. Then two shots rang out and the bouncer fell. Instead of running back inside like they should have, the girls all knelt around the bouncer and I saw a dark van move toward them. One of the girls finally ran inside, presumably to call an ambulance and police. One backed away and turned to run to her car. That was when the van moved, cutting the dancer off from the others. The door on the far side of the van opened and the dancer was grabbed. The girls around the bouncer didn’t even notice. The van pulled out of the lot and the tires squealed. Then it came to a sudden stop.
I didn’t need to look inside the van to see what happened. I saw the door open and three of my priestesses leave the van with the kidnapped dancer and lead her quickly and quietly to me. Of course, it was Noel.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“What was all that? Where did these black knights come from? That van ... it’s a bloody mess. I think I have blood on me. Was this your doing, Bob?”
“These are my ... warriors. We knew something was going down tonight, but I didn’t know when and where it would happen. I’m guessing you were specifically targeted and your car may have been tampered with as well.”
“I headed toward it because the lights came on. I thought I’d pressed the key,” she said.
“Here’s the question, Noel. Do you want to stay here and keep doing what you’re doing? Do you have people you can go to? If you stay, you’ll be asked a lot of questions by the police. That’s fine, but they won’t believe anything you say about us.”
“You’re like a secret service,” she breathed.
“Very secret,” I said.
“What alternative do I have? I was teasing guys intensely all night. You know that. None quite as intensely as you, though.”
“That’s your job. All the girls were teasing guys. But that’s not an invitation to kidnap them.”
“My boyfriend,” she said angrily. “He has my other set of keys.”
“What?”
“I’ve been watching for him all night. He said he had a surprise for me. He sold me!”
“That’s likely. We’ll need to investigate.”
“God, what can I do?”
“You can go with my warriors if you want to. You can just lie low for a few days while we try to sort things out here and see if your boyfriend was involved. If you want to go, we’ll have to leave now.”
“And then I can come back?”
“Yes. Just remember that whatever you see when you’re with us, you won’t be able to talk about. I mean, you could, but no one would believe you.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
I opened a gateway and the priestesses came running from every direction to dive through as the ambulance and police cars came skidding into the lot. I slipped away into the shadows.
“I think your house is haunted,” Roxie said when she and Annie brought me cocoa and rejoined me by the fire back in Iowa. The memory of Noel was still fresh in my mind thirty-some years later.
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“I distinctly felt something brush against me and thought I heard a step when I was putting away the sugar. Of course, when I turned to look, there was nothing there,” she said.
I glanced toward the kitchen and saw a camerawoman raise her hand and shake her head.
“Annie, are you playing tricks on our guest?” I asked lightheartedly.
“Oops! You caught me,” Annie said.
“No way. Annie was on the other side of the table from me. She couldn’t have touched me unless she had a rubber arm and that would bring up worse speculation than the house being haunted!” Roxie laughed.
“So, you speculate the house is haunted. I promise you that no one has died here that I know of,” I said. “We could do some checking to see if there are other hauntings reported in this area.”
“I might do that,” she said. She yawned. “Wow! I’m really beat. If you don’t mind, where can I sleep?”
I think she expected us to say ‘with us.’ She seemed a little disappointed when Annie said she’d show her the guest room. I breathed a sigh of relief and motioned the camerawoman to the bedroom. There, I opened a gateway and let her back into Areola. Annie shook her head.
“She is suspicious of you at the moment. I need to stay here for the night. I can go home tomorrow,” Annie said.
“One of the camerawomen got trapped in a corner and brushed against her escaping. We’re lucky she didn’t get a glimpse of her.”
“Yes. But Roxie is a sharp cookie. It’s like she always expects something to be going on.”
“It comes in her line of work. She has to be hyperaware of where customers’ hands are, who is coming up beside her, and where she is all the time.”
“You sound like you know a lot about strippers,” Annie laughed as she stripped off the last of her clothes and posed before me. I thoroughly enjoyed the sight and picked her up to carry to bed.
“I’ve met one or two.”
Back when we were cleaning up the mess in Biloxi, I was having some difficulties getting information and following up the incident at the Pussy Cat Club. It seemed the handgun used to shoot the bouncer had been held by a low-ranking army officer who was driving the van. Sometimes, I wished the priestesses were not quite so thorough in eliminating threats.
But there had been only three other men in the van that snatched Noel. I’d counted six leaving the club together. That meant at least two and possibly more were at large. Plus the boyfriend.
And we had no information regarding where they were taking her. It could have been to a private party where they’d rape and murder her. It could have been to a transport vehicle that would get her out of the country. There were so many unanswered questions.
And the Army base recalled all soldiers and locked down when the police told them of the bloody body of the officer.
Acting on the information given to me by Noel, I tracked down the apartment of the boyfriend and found it cleaned out. He was missing. It seemed like he’d left long before the caper at the club went down. I was in Biloxi for a month before we finally cleaned out a nest of traffickers who were mostly taking women out of the country and into South America for the entertainment of the dictator of a Banana Republic. They were being paid well, but none of them lived to enjoy their spending. The story released said that revolutionaries had killed the dictator and burned his house. A dozen henchmen involved in the trafficking ring had been in the burning house. The women were all returned to their homes or found a place to stay in Areola. Many had been originally trafficked by family members and chose not to go back.
But Noel was one of the ones who did choose to return to her life in the natural world. She asked to be dropped off in Southern California where she had contacts for a job and could set up as if she’d always been there. I agreed, of course. I wasn’t enslaving anyone, but I was a bit disappointed by her choice.
“I’d like to dance for you again before you leave, Bob,” she said.
She’d seemed quite comfortable with the nudity in our household and was often lying out by the pool in nothing. I’d made no inappropriate advances toward her because I didn’t bring her to Areola to fuck. And she quickly saw that I had no lack of beautiful women to sleep with. We did, of course, meet and talk frequently as I pulled together the remaining parts of the operation in Mississippi and South America. It appeared that she was just one of many slated to make the trip south. She was gratified when I told her the boyfriend had unfortunately been in the dictator’s house when it burned.
She asked me to visit her at the club she was headed to, which I did. It was a similar setup to the Pussy Cat Club but a little more upscale. She danced on the stage, getting delightfully nude.
“Did you see my new moves, Bob?” she asked. “One of the girls is a real pro on the pole. She’s teaching classes. It’s all about how you leverage and counter the forces that let you get into positions that don’t seem possible.”
“It was very impressive. I should have had you give lessons to some of my women while you were visiting.”
“Oh, I did. Now, let’s have a dance.”
The price at this club was thirty-five dollars, paid to a fellow checking names and ID before we were allowed into the more discreet area. It was not quite as exposed as the main floor, but Noel was all over me in our three-song set. Panties stayed on up here, but the rules on touching seemed to be more about what the girl would allow than what the club rules stated. Noel allowed me ample opportunity to play with her breasts.
“You’re hard and I’m wet,” she whispered in my ear as she stroked my cock through my slacks. “Let’s get a VIP room for half an hour.” I agreed.
Half an hour in a VIP room was $300, paid to the concierge. Noel had come to the desk with her top still in her hand. I paid the fee and the concierge gave me a card giving me admission with no cover for the next time I was in town. Noel took my hand and led me to the room the concierge said was hers for half an hour.
This room held a sofa and an end table with a very low light on it. It was blocked off from the hall by a very heavy curtain that we pushed aside to enter and then Noel straightened to be sure we were not visible. Amazingly, the room and drape also blocked out nearly all the sound from outside the room. Soft music was piped into it.
“The rules are different in California, Bob. Just relax and let’s have fun.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.