Chapter 1

"Oh fuck Joe yes!" Helena screamed as I churned her flowing nectar into froth inside her trembling and gloriously hot pussy with rapid and powerful thrusts pounding her into her bed in her apartment in the Tenderloin. The name of the San Francisco neighborhood never meant more as tender loins met aggressively and ecstatically and blissfully. Within her ecstasy came mine as I ceased the churning in one last powerful thrust and my body trembled like hers both interiorly and exteriorly and my cock throbbed, pumping out potent seed that had apparently done their job a week before, at least one of those microscopic tadpoles. I roared with pleasure. Thus we celebrated another intensely successful creative day with a profoundly intense quickie.

Wednesday had been relentless as most days seemed to be. A bed full of angels and Lindy and I awoke way too early in the Nob Hill suite. At least we had our usual coffee and croissants waiting for us instead of having to get them from the all night bakery. We thanked Nick for his consideration.

"So that's why you let us sleep a few minutes longer," Lindy smiled at Miwa and gave her a kiss. We had started the dance rehearsals in the beginning at her automatic six o'clock wake up time which meant she awoke too early for her internal clock to be comfortable with, but after a couple of those mornings decided to wait until seven to meet Vance at Barnaby's studio. Even then she wanted to wake up earlier to get her head and body ready, including fetching coffee and croissants. This time, with Nick's help and Miwa getting his message telepathically, Miwa turned off the alarm that would have wakened us earlier than six and Lindy awoke by her internal clock at exactly six am with remarkable precision. "I forgive you," she said and hugged her lover and kissed her.

After a couple hours rehearsing Lindy's remarkable long piece based on the four elements and the two states of mind (intellectual and emotional) converging to produce a perfected man (or woman, since it was Lindy becoming created), we had breakfast and headed to rehearsals at ACT en masse including Nick even though he wasn't involved with Lindy's dance.

Chanda, the Southeast Asian angel also accompanied us. She stayed beside Nick during the dancing, her elegant and expensive digital video camera recording things. At ACT, given permission by the black Irish workshop director Sean O'Casey, she proceeded to record rehearsals of three plays: mine and Lindy's and Natasha's.

Play rehearsals went brilliantly for me as well as Helena. She reported her success excitedly all the way from the ACT building to her bedroom before we stripped as quickly as possible and had the most profoundly satisfying quickie I ever experienced.

"God I needed that," Helena mewled softly.

My six feet six frame weighed heavily upon her five feet five voluptuousness. "No, don't move," she murmured when I attempted giving her relief from my burden. "I want to feel the weight of you on me, like the weight of your heart upon mine sharing its beats, making them mine. Being so near you last night and this morning and then separating and coming together at last, my desire at last fed to a brilliant white blaze, my need becoming ecstasy in a transformative heat. And now, mellow coals, I just feel warm and cozy and loved."

"Me too," I said much less eloquently. We laughed.

"And Father said you couldn't be succinct."

"Wait until I catch my breath," I replied.

Another chuckle ended in a shared sigh when my churning stick became soft and slipped from her sopping wet cunt.

"We should probably get up," Helena said reluctantly. "I should shower and change and you should too, meaning you need to go home."

"Not without you," I said.

"Of course not," she grinned, "which is why we need time."

"I'll grab a couple sandwiches from the downstairs shop while you shower," I said.

"Good idea. I'm starved," she replied.

"Me too," I smiled and kissed her gently before lifting myself off her gorgeous, sensuous body. I couldn't help kissing each tit and the clit that had retreated into its hood.

"Mmm," she murmured her approval and received another gentle kiss on her voluptuous mouth before I began dressing. "I'm going to miss you," she sighed, patting the Jockeys where my penis had just gone to hide.

"Not for long," I smiled.

"I predict another exhausted night and another too early morning," Helena smirked at her oracle pronouncement, less future vision, more stating the obvious.

"Probably," I sighed. "But if Nick's tale gets us horny as it often does, perhaps we'll make love well into the night and still get at least four hours of sleep," I grinned.

"One can hope," Helena chuckled.

We shared a loving stare before reluctantly ending it, and I headed out the door.

When I returned with sandwiches I could hear water pouring in the bathroom. I couldn't resist stripping just as quickly as I had stripped for our recent quickie and surprised Helena with my naked body entering the bath tub. By her wide grin I could tell it was a pleasant surprise. Extracting the washcloth from her hand, I took over washing her every soft curve with lingering kisses interspersed with cleansing caresses. Her hand never left my engorged cock, stroking it to a painful need for release. Finally, with my right hand with washcloth polishing her left nipple and my left hand stoking the fire between her thighs, she gently but with obvious intention pressed down on my shoulder with the hand not stroking my cock and I lowered to sit on the bath mat and she lowered straddling me, guiding my cock to her hungry lower mouth and having it fill that wondrously hot orifice.

"Gggggod," she moaned, extending the word throughout the length of her descent and the filling of her cunt. At last completely merged, we rubbed our pubic bones together, muscles expanding and contracting genitals replacing the friction of fucking to thrill each other. Our mouths also fused together with my tongue mirroring my cock in entering her before inviting her tongue into my mouth. "Can you turn off the taps," Helena murmured between kisses. "I don't want this to end with a cold shower."

"Good idea, my love," I moaned back, feeling an especially piquant ripple of her inner muscles.

Sitting with my lover wrapped in my arms as she wraps her arms around me and envelopes my cock in hot bliss, with eyes when opened inches away from each other and lips easily converging constitutes my favorite position. It doesn't promote a full on assault of rapid and intense thrusts that usually became the finale of our loving fucks, but it stirs my heart like no other position because of its intimacy. It feels like making love more than the other positions. Usually we shifted into missionary with her legs lifted framing her torso and I bore down on her from my knees to bring me a high angle of entrance and my elbows supported me while my fingers held and pinched her nipples, my eyes either connecting with hers or closing to experience the intense friction as my back rounded and I nibbled on those nipples.

This time we had no room for such shifting. This time when I became overwhelmed with lust I held her full soft butt in my hands and she rested her arms on the edges of the tub to lift and fall against me and we began fucking with abandon. Unlike those other times only the friction of cock stroking cunt stimulated us, with the single addition of a middle finger of mine burying itself in her anus and feeling my cock moving behind a thin barrier.

"Unh, unh, unh," she breathed in sync with the rhythm of our thrusts. Her eyes went wide and remained wide. They never left mine. We grinned with the wonder of the pleasure we shared and the love.

"I ... am ... cumming!" she announced loudly, nearly squealing, her hands releasing the weight of her body, arms once more encircling my neck. I stilled all motion simultaneously with her renewed embrace, feeling the inner convulsions of her orgasm ripple around my cock. I let go any resistance against my swollen balls' release and felt that release as a glorious wave of pleasure sweeping past my heart and engulfing me to finger and toe tips and the top of my head in utter ecstasy. Ever smaller waves followed with each lessening throb of ejaculation, but the heat left behind by the first wave like sand hardened the furthest at highest tide sustained the intense pleasure throughout those ebbing throbs.

"Oh Joe," she murmured into my ear close to her mouth, "I so love you."

"Me too," I answered sans eloquence. We laughed and moaned at the rippling effect on our genitals the laughter created.

Last to arrive at Nick's suite, Helena and I got comfortable, me undressing to Jockeys and Helena getting naked and putting on a nearly transparent nightie. She sat on the floor between my legs as I sat above her beside Lindy on the loveseat with Miwa beside Helena on the floor. Lindy wore panties and a skimpy t-shirt and Miwa dressed similarly to Helena and the other angels. We undressed like this in order to easily relieve desires when they came upon us during the tales usually through mutual masturbation since we needed to keep an eye on Naomi's rapid drawings on her art pad which rested on her lap as she sat on a comfortable chair sans arms as close to us as possible. She had already gone through two pads. There would be several of them filled by the end of Nick's tales.

Nick began his tale. "I lived centuries in Persia until things got unpleasant and I lost my first angel. More about then and her later. I wandered into the desert completely distraught. Camping out one night alone by a fire, I found myself losing my skin. This was the first time it happened so obviously I was freaked out. It doesn't hurt. It's like there's another skin buried and the old skin comes off like a very tight overcoat. And a mask too I suppose and a wig and boots. You get the idea."

Nick shudders from the cold, feeling more naked than he ever has. He has fallen onto his butt, the sloughed skin a thick blanket. Realizing the weird skin of his former life contacts his butt and balls freaks him out even more. He hops off it and grabs the weighty thing and flings it with fright at the small fire. The fire explodes in a white heat tossing Nick into the air and onto the sand a yard from where he stood. His eyes try to see the intense conflagration but can't withstand the brightness. Finally the fire quiets to the point of near extinguishment.

Worrying about losing his warmth gets him to fetch more dead leaves and wood from the nearby oasis. As he replenishes the fuel for burning he sees the white powder residue from his former skin as if the white fire has transformed into white dust which covers the burnt out wood like a pale skin blotchy with spots of red where embers lick out quiet flames just enough to catch the added fuel and regenerate needed heat.

Attempting to cover his new skin brings forth a similar feeling that had caused his getting naked in the first place, a profound itching sensation. This is a different sensation though. Earlier it had been a deeper itch which tended to foil any relief from scratching. His nails just couldn't reach the depth. This time it's much rawer, very much at the surface. The woolen robe rubs raw skin. New skin is not tempered by age and callouses. He removes the robe and brings his goatskin blanket closer to the fire and lies upon it, finding it surprisingly comfortable. Thoughts of stitching together an even softer doeskin outfit flit through his mind before sleep takes over.

He wakes with the rising sun burning away the chill. His thoughts continue from before sleep and he pulls out rolled up deer skin, slicing thin strips with his knife, its sharpness and his strength making it an easy chore. The strips removed from the hide shape the skin. They become stitches shaping it further. A rounded oval cut into the center of the leather forms a hood. He becomes his own manikin tailoring the leather to suit his form. The outside of the skin with its soft knap becomes the inside of the outfit. Once done, he pulls out oxen skin and shapes it into booties and a belt with the smoother interior becoming the actual interior of them.

Though purposeful, the construction of a new outfit also serves to delay seeing his transformation. He knows he looks different from just the feel of his nose which somehow has lengthened and thickened. Finally curiosity overcomes fear and he travels the several yards to the small pool of the oasis and studies himself.

"How different," he smiles, touching his new face. While before he looked like a perfect example of a Babylonian as if his image mapped out their features, he appears to be much more unique. His skin has become tawnier. The face seems to be a synthesis of north and south of the Mediterranean: a merger of Egypt and Greece. Though his nose extends and widens in comparison to his former nose, quite the beak actually, somehow it fits with his larger eyes and wider mouth and thicker lips. The visage pleases him with its promise of pleasing the ladies. And his youthful appearance, at least ten years younger, in his mid to late twenties rather than mid to late thirties, pleases him for the same reason.

A caravan kicking sand up in the distance should prove his hopes. He returns to his campsite and packs his stuff onto his second camel and urges the two camels to their feet and walks them to the oasis awaiting arrival of the caravan and his new life.

Two riders of fine Arabian stallions approach Nick nearly a mile ahead of the caravan. Nick stands with arms spread wide to greet them, but finds himself suddenly penetrated by a spear in his abdomen.

"What are you doing, Matta?" the older of the two grumbles looking over the prone victim.

"It's not him, Master Kohotep," the spear chucker exclaims, holding the reins of both stallions.

"We needed information before destroying the so called god."

"This man must have done that deed already. He must be some kind of thief as well as a skillful murder. Akonek was said to be nigh on indestructible. Only removing his head from his body could destroy him."

Kohotep gazes at the grimacing man and watches the grimace turn into a smile. With inhuman speed the man pulls the spear from his abdomen, tearing out skin and guts and thrusts it into Kohotep's throat. "Was that necessary, Matta?" he growls, his guts sliding back into his abdomen and the skin sealing up.

"Master Akonek?" Matta utters unsteadily. "How can..."

"I seem to have transformed," Nick grins, pulling the bloody spear from the dead man's throat and handing it to his minion. "I hadn't expected that. Call me Konikalis, messenger of the gods or Nick for short."

"Yes master," his minion bows.

"You know how I hate that master shit. And stop the bowing." Nick embraces his minion who responds slowly but finally returns the embrace.

"I am sorry," Matta mutters.

"Understandable. You struck my probable assailant with great speed. There is no need for apology. Let me hide this despicable creature under fronds while you dispatch the guard into the netherworld. Dress in your former master's clothing to confuse the asshole. You are certain of the eunuchs?"

Spitting on his former master before stripping him of clothing, Matta growls, "He treated them as badly as his harem slaves, humiliating them often. Not raping them. He gave his guard their violation. Kohotep chose him for that reason, keeping his harem unsullied by all but him, the guard much preferring men."

Nick notices the grimace. "I am sorry Matta for putting you in that position."

"No need, Mas ... Nick. You chose me for my own interest in men. After that guard first abused me, and I could barely walk due to the tearing, Kohotep ordered him to grease his pole before any future penetration. Still violent, but at least the man took little time climaxing. Just enough to begin to stir my libido. Luckily neither Kohotep nor his lackeys found out how I relieved it."

"Cleverness rather than luck, my friend. How is Sota?"

"She ... she is with child. Hopefully mine. Probably mine. The lighter the skin the better for Kohotep, and Sota has skin black as a moonless night."

"Since she is pregnant..."

Matta nods sadly, "We left her at home."

"Don't you worry, Matta. We will free her soon. Now go."

Mounting his former master's steed, Matta rushes off to meet the caravan with a smile. Minutes later his deadly spear penetrates the chest of his sodomizer who dies with a look of utter surprise on his face.

By the time the caravan of camels arrives, Nick has hidden Kohotep's body at the farthest edge of the oasis from the central pool of water. The camels kneel around the pool and lick up its life giving liquid allowing the six harem women and the two eunuchs to slide off their mounts. The women's hands except one have been freed by Matta and the eunuchs of the leather straps that held them by the pommels to the saddles. The palest of them has never been restrained. Harem girls and eunuchs act like the camels, sticking their faces into the water to quench great thirst.

"Beautiful," Nick murmurs in approval, circling around the harem ladies and studying their backsides covered in a loose mesh of fibers that allows skin to breathe.

Matta grins. "Kohotep wanted to free himself of the less attractive, but I reminded him we would be negotiating with a god. We compromised by choosing the youngest and most resistant. That one there," Matta points to the palest and most curvaceous of the ladies, "might be trouble. Kohotep favored her, brought her along for his own pleasures and would be retaining her. She liked his abuse and he ended up abusing her less than the others unless she insisted otherwise." Matta shakes his head with wonder that any woman should crave such cruelty.

"Sometimes women find pain to be pleasurable. It can be a way of surviving as you found out with the guard, or it can be a natural kink."

Matta grins, "I think she's of the latter sort." The two men chuckle.

"I will take care of her first," says Nick. He holds the dirty blonde woman's head under the water while his body on top of her writhing body prevents her escape. When the writhing dwindles, he pulls her head out. She coughs up liquid from her lungs. Even in her suffering her remarkably pale visage looks angelic. Pulling her to her feet by her hair causes pain to be revealed on her face. And something else. Desire.

"Where's my master!" she exclaims through roughened throat.

"Shut up, bitch," Nick growls and smacks her hard on her full bottom.

"Ooh," she moans, almost an "ow," but full of heat. "Who... ?"

"I said shut up," Nick slaps her face as he pulls her by her hair onto her back. Her wide eyes tear up as her hand rubs where the slap reddens her cheek. Those pale blue eyes stare at this strange man both in fear and in lust. Suddenly she finds herself draped over his shoulders, carried away from the pool.

Walloping her butt repeatedly as they walk, Nick grumbles, "I hear you were that monster's favorite. You spied for him I'm sure. You know what happens to spies."

"I..."

"When did you tell him about Matta and Sota?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't lie to me bitch," Nick roars, flinging her onto the ground beside her former owner and lover. "You're going to end up just like him anyway, but if you lie it will be a slow death. Slow and painful." He pulls her face back to look at her dead master when she shies away from the view. He laughs, "Oh, but you would enjoy that. Maybe I'll make it swift so you can't enjoy anything."

"I ... I don't wish to die," she wails.

"I know, bitch. Survival is your greatest instinct. It made you crave his abuse and you seduced him with your pleasure and your deceit. Didn't you?"

"Yes, master."

He pulls on the nipple of a large and buoyant breast, crushing it painfully. She writhes and moans. "When did you tell him about his supposed man loving servant and the beautiful, pregnant black slave?" He squeezes the other nipple just as painfully as he unsheathes his sharp knife and presses it against her throat.

She sniffles and moans. "I saw them loving each other. I suspected but couldn't be sure. But saying goodbye to her must have unhinged his emotions to forget hiding it from me. Oh they didn't fuck on purpose in my presence, but allowed me to follow Sota after they exchanged that glance I had seen before and had made me suspect. When he left she slipped away and entered his chambers where he awaited naked and she climbed on top of him and guided his big cock inside of her and rode him to their mutual pleasure, their mouths sealed to muffle their moans. And then they cried afterwards. A man crying is so pathetic. But he isn't a man, is he, being fucked by that cruel guard? He more resembles a eunuch in that. Except he made that ... black creature pregnant, but with her on top of course."

"Bitch," Nick grumbles, sliding the knife down her torso, creating a thin line of blood as he cuts through her clothing. When he pokes the tip against her rigid clit she actually climaxes. He has to lessen the pressure there so as not to penetrate her most sensitive organ as she writhes and arches in pleasure.

"So you told him at the beginning of this journey?" Nick asks, his mouth resting against her ear. He bites down on her lobe and threatens to bite it off.

"Yes!" she gasps.

Sheathing his knife, he quickly straddles her chest and pulls out his long thick cock from under his leather tunic, the glans hovering over her gasping mouth. "Drink!" he orders, unleashing his potent semen with perfect aim. Spluttering and choking at first, her mouth closes to recover, causing a shot to miss its target. He pulls her mouth open and shoots the remainder of his prodigious ejaculate into the opening. She manages to calm her throat and swallow the cum elixir.

Nick eases off of her, his fingers scraping the semen from her face, using it to coat the thin line of blood his knife had created on her pale torso.

"He planned to kill Matta after Matta killed me?" Nick asks.

"I don't know. Probably. He had Matta accompany him to this oasis instead of the guard. Usually Kohotep trusted only his guard. Matta did his murderous work alone, stealing girls and killing their masters.

"Fairly manly work that," Nick points out.

"He is a rather confusing man," the woman remarks, eyeing Nick's half hard member with great interest.

"Had your former master instructed you in the art of restoring erections?"

"His former favorite did," she admits.

"Former?"

"Solani ... resisted his beatings. She rarely reacted like the others and Kohotep loved the challenge. She hated it and when ordered to revive him she did it with skill in order to prevent the beatings for at least a time. I became his favorite because I brought a unique twist by enjoying it. Of course my fair skin helped. Solani made sure to teach me her skills to encourage the favoritism. But in the end ... when he returned to her ... she resisted more than ever and he eventually beat her to death. I could swear she smiled as a corpse as if saying, 'at last.'"

"You can revive me," he orders.

"Thank you Master," she grins.

"Call me Nick. And you are?"

Between mouthfuls of penis she tells him, "Brunhilda."

"Hilda it is," he moans.

Soon revived, he puts her on hands and knees and fucks her doggy style making sure she faces her deceased master. His hands trade off clutching her broad hips and spanking her.

"Why ... do I ... have to ... look at ... him," she moans. "And he ... stinks."

He slaps her harder. "Punishment my sweet," he tells her.

"Can you ... cut me ... again?"

Grabbing his knife he slides it across her back from neck to waist creating a line to match her front. When he presses his fingernail against her rosebud faking the tip of his knife, she shutters and bellows, "Master!" her narrow pussy wall surrounding Nick's cock with a convulsive milking. He presses against her generous posterior and shoots his seed into her depths.

After he collapses onto her back, she slips from under him, turning him onto his side and dives for his diminishing penis with hands and mouth. "More, Master," she pleads.

Nick pulls her off him by her hair and straddles her chest, his penis ending up between her large pale breasts which proudly resist much sag towards the sides. He slaps away her hands trying to press those tits around him. "Call me Nick, Hilda. And no more for you. I am punishing you."

"Master?" a shy male voice reveals a presence behind Nick who growls. "I mean Nick?"

"Yes Matta?"

"We have food prepared."

Nick responds without turning around. "I won't need any food. Save some for Hilda if she has an appetite."

"Yes Nick."

"And Matta?"

"Yes Nick?"

"Let no one disturb us."

"Of course."

Nick waits a couple minutes before rising from Hilda. "You try to escape and I tie you to a tree," he warns her, "and it won't lead to fucking. I want you to watch me or I'll tie you up and make you watch." Grabbing his knife, he eviscerates Kohotep and begins to feast on the innards. "Not fresh enough but plenty corrupt," he says.

"Gods," Hilda moans and vomits. Coughing away the bile, she mutters, "What kind of monster are you?"

"Not his kind," Nick answers with his mouth full, his face and hands bloody and greasy. He continues between bites. "I will not harm your fellow harem mates. I take no pleasure in domination and bringing pain. I will bring you pain because you enjoy it, but none of the others. But I am the kind of monster who relishes the death and the consuming of flesh of his kind of monster. You will tell no one of this. It will be our little secret. I will know if you gossip about this with your sisters."

"Yes Master. I promise."

"Call me Nick."

"I promise, Nick."

"I will do you no harm except to pleasure you. In fact I will dedicate myself to pleasuring you and your sister harem. But only if you still want me."

"And if I don't?"

"I can ask Matta if he wants you."

"I'd rather have you," she murmurs.

"Or I could return you to Kohotep's brothers. Bring you back home so to speak."

He feels her hand delicately rubbing his back. "I want you Nick."

"Even after this?"

"Will you eat me too or others?"

"No. I rarely eat human flesh. You will never witness this again. Care for the liver?"

"Uhm, no thank you," she backs away.

"You don't know what you're missing. It's the best part."

"That's okay."

Nick laughs heartily. Hilda joins him. Somehow it soothes her nausea.

"I know I will have nightmares of this," she tells him slowly, "but I still want to be with you. I find you handsome and so ... confident. You attract me. And somehow ... I feel like my life has been bettered."

"It has, Hilda. Are you trying to be the favorite again?"

"Maybe. Maybe I need to be favored over the others. Maybe it makes me feel less..."

"Less what?"

"I don't know."

"You are no less anything than the others. In fact you're more. More beautiful. Cleverer."

"You think so?"

Nick laughs. "You do need that, don't you?"

She bows her head shyly. "Yes."

"Keep watching, bitch."

Her eyes brighten. "Yes Mas ... Nick. I think I feel less ... whatever because they got rid of me."

"Who got rid of you?"

"My tribe way up north of here. They traded me to their enemy chieftain."

"You are a prize."

"Maybe, but more I think I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I thought my tribe's leaders to be foolish and stupid and unfortunately I told them. When the opportunity to trade a daughter of our tribe, they had only one choice. Me."

"What about your family?"

"My father was the leader, the chief, the biggest fool of them all." They laugh. "He has another daughter, a real daddy's girl, and two strong warrior sons. He had no need for a harridan. Only mother might have been torn by her loss."

"Of course she was."

"Except that it made it easier for her. I didn't rile her up anymore as I was wont to do which could only have led to being disciplined by Father. She might have been the only one to miss me, but I can't help feeling she felt relief."

"That's terrible."

"The world is terrible."

Nick sighs. "Yes it is. So how did you come so far?"

"Matta."

"Matta?"

"This new chief flaunted me. He treated me cruelly, enjoying flogging me, especially when I resisted him or taunted him. I grew to like the punishment. And he showed that off to other chiefs far and wide: my wicked wit and my pleasure in abuse. He let others abuse me. I became entertainment. I guess word got out and Matta was sent to get me, which he did, killing the chief as well when he rescued me from his bedchambers. I couldn't help noticing Matta taking glee in it, killing the man. I thought he would be my hero, but that very night I heard him buggering a man or being buggered, one of the chief's advisors in fact, a really weak man. And Matta seemed just as weak and feminine after that."

Chapter 2 »