Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
73
On the Go
YOU MIGHT NOT BELIEVE this after all this time, but I’m still not that good at talking to naked women I don’t know very well. I’m not a natural seducer. I think that comes from Pinaruti’s legacy. Since he didn’t know how to conduct a conversation with a woman, he imbued me with a certain level of irresistibility. Fortunately, not so much that every woman I meet instantly wants to fuck me, but enough so that if they want to fuck me, they’ll make the first move. Sometimes I actually turn them down.
But just talking to a naked woman who has suddenly plopped herself in my lap and invited me to interview her—while her hands, mind you, were constantly caressing my arms and touching my cheeks—left me a bit tongue-tied.
“Yeah. Um… Why did you decide to apply to be on To Boldly Go?” I asked. Somehow, my hand had found its way to cup her delightfully full breast with its hard nipple pressed into my palm.
“It’s a long story. Joan and I decided to become dancers while we were still in high school. We even practiced dancing and stripping with each other, and got kind of involved, so that’s how we discovered sex. We even had a little party once where we invited some classmates over and danced for them. It gave us good practice at controlling where guys put their hands and what we’d allow them to do. We got a reputation as being real cock teases, which is exactly what we had set out to do. When we turned eighteen, we went to a club and applied. Most of the boys we knew weren’t old enough to go to the club, since it was a bar and restricted to twenty-one and older clientele, even though they let eighteen-year-olds work as dancers.”
“Sounds like you got everything you wanted.”
“Mostly. When my parents found out I was dancing, they kicked me out. No discussion. They’re hyper-religious and absolutely would not tolerate having me as a stain on their reputation. Joan and I got a room one of the club managers was renting and moved ourselves to Des Moines. We were happy, even, to pay the rent with a weekly fuck for the manager. It was only until we got on our feet and could get a place of our own. And it was easy. I pulled down around a thousand a week after the club took its fee. And we both decided we could create a good cover for ourselves by working as temporary secretaries. So, I work wherever the agency sends me four days a week. Three nights a week, I dance my ass off and rub guys’ cocks through their pants until they pay me.”
“And you like what you do?” I asked. She had managed to get a hand between us to do a little rubbing on me as she talked. I discovered her legs had parted in an open invitation to explore.
“Yeah. But that’s the difference. Joan and I do it because we love it and that’s what we always wanted to do. But there are lots of girls who are there for less positive reasons. Some of them got hooked on drugs and started stripping to pay for the next dose. A lot of them pick up johns while they’re dancing and that inevitably leads to STDs or arrests for prostitution. Some of them are just desperate because they made a mistake in their lives and figure the only asset they have left is their tits. And there are some who were coerced.”
I stiffened in a bad way and Roxie petted at my chest, saying “Down boy.”
“I have no problem with a woman choosing whatever path she wants to take,” I said. “I have a great deal of problem with people who force a woman into a path.”
“I think we’ve all heard that message loud and clear,” Roxie said. “And here’s the thing, Bob. I’m here of my own free will. I’m naked in your arms with your finger in my pussy because that’s where I want to be. There’s something perverse in me that just wants to fuck you. Though, you know you could bring Annie back and we’d have a really good time. But I don’t expect you to choose me for your crew. What use would you have for a stripper in space when you’ve already got a dozen or more women who run around naked all the time. Guys don’t pay me because I’m the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen. They pay me because I’m the most available right now. I don’t know how I could ever become the most available for The Bob.”
“What is it you really want, then?”
“Joan and I have put together a pretty good-sized bankroll in the five years we’ve been dancing. But it’s not enough. What I really want is for you to bankroll a buyout of my club. I want to get the druggies off drugs. I want to free the girls who are being beaten by a boyfriend at home if they don’t bring home enough tips. I want to turn our club into a refuge for girls who love what they’re doing and will enjoy every minute they’re in my club. Like I do. You know, we could get this big boy out to play now,” she said, squeezing my cock.
I did a lot of flying around the world to collect my next crew. I needed at least a day of rest in Areola between trips. While there, I watched recordings of my previous encounters and reviewed with the crew and family what I should be doing next.
And I didn’t have sex with all of them. Not like with Roxie. Once it was established that Roxie didn’t want a permanent place on my show or my ship, and had a very reasonable request for me, we went to bed.
No, that’s not quite the order. We fucked on the kitchen table. Then we went to bed and fucked there. Then we fucked in the shower. We fucked in front of the fireplace. Eventually, I lit a fire and we fucked in front of it again. We ran outside while the rain was still pouring down and then fucked on the front porch with water dripping off us. Annie did join us and we fucked all together before Roxie finally got her car and left. In the meantime, Peninnah went to work and bought a strip club in Des Moines. When Roxie got home, she had a new job.
“We really missed the boat when we investigated Roxie,” Doug said when we got together again.
“You investigated? I mean, that’s okay if you withheld info from me as a surprise, but it was a bit of a shock when she revealed she was a stripper,” I said.
“Well, the girls ranked them, including how genuine they appeared to be, but it’s obvious we aren’t getting deep enough. It’s not like we can call their references. We completely missed your Doctor of Physics in Cleveland. She’s getting along great in Houston, by the way, but really misses Cleveland Bob. I told her I’d put in an order for something that would bring him back to Houston.”
“Houston is a big adjustment for her,” I said. I knew she’d had to fly back to Cleveland the make arrangements for her business there.
“Bob, we’ve got a problem,” Doug said, getting down to business.
“Great. Words I always want to hear. What this time?”
“The interactions between you and the women for this season are great. Some great scenes. Just great.”
“Doug?”
“Yeah. Well, the show is flat. With the exception of May, we have absolutely no interaction with the concept of getting a space ship off the launchpad. And she still doesn’t know Cleveland Bob is The Bob. In season one, we had the thirteen women in direct competition with each other. They were learning how to fly the ship. They were competing in contests of strength, smarts, skill, and generally being a nice woman. But in the cuts for this season, all we have is Bob trying to decide whether a woman should join his harem. They’ve never even met any of the others. We need some interaction between the women you are selecting and the crew already onboard. And your family. So far, we have reality, but we don’t have a show.”
“Hoo. Well! I don’t know what to say. You’re the producer. What do we need?”
“I think we should start off by arranging an encounter between them. Maybe one or two at a time. See how they get along together. Give them a challenge they need to work together on. Invent some more positions for crew members. The way I count it, we’ve got eight women and one man. Ten’s a good number. So only one more selection. Then we need to get things happening. You know they’re harem material. Find out if they are space ship material.”
“Okay. I’m going to come home. I’ve been flying around the world for two months. I need to crawl into the bag for a while and get something organized with my family and crew,” I said. “I’m tired.”
“That’s good, Bob. Come home. I’d like some time in the bag, too, you know?”
“Yeah. You’ve been great, Doug. Sorry so much in the natural world depends on you. It’s vacation time.”
I headed for LA and the mansion where Doug met me. He had a happy reunion with Avril and I invited the crew into the mansion to all be together with me. We had a wonderful and loving time. They all had comments to make about our nine new candidates. Half of them still didn’t know they’d been with The Bob.
“Gwen is so quiet. Will she be able to hold her own in the group?”
“Mia wants the magic. She thinks she’ll become a wizard.”
“May is already designing a whole new generation of spaceships. Do you think she’ll ever actually want to leave earth?”
“Tommy is pretty cute. You didn’t sleep with him. Are you thinking of bringing him along just for us?”
“I have never seen anyone so happy as Sonia. I mean, just happy with life. And she still thinks all your talk about being a demon is a joke.”
Comments went on, carried on by several girls while I made love to others and then shifting smoothly to the others. No one got to sleep until late the next morning.
“So, what we are thinking is that we call all the contestants who qualified and invite them here to the mansion. We have a little get-together and then start training everybody on the ship operations that we learned. But in the middle of the process, there’s an emergency and we all have to work together to save the ship or the show or each other or something,” Lalonda said.
“What kind of emergency?” I asked.
“Maybe there’s a hurricane,” Eun-ha suggested.
“We can’t fabricate that,” Wendy said.
“How about a strike that takes all the workers off the ship? Then we all have to take over building it,” Suhani offered.
“Maybe you could build a spaceship, but I wouldn’t be good for anything but holding someone’s coffee while she did the work,” Artemisia said. “How about if the government tries to take over the project and we have to fight them off?”
“A foreign government, of course,” Karla said.
“Or the mob,” Linda said. “Like they find out Bob’s been messing with their trafficking and decide to get even.”
“Oooh. That would work.”
“We need to plan this event out carefully. One thing we’ve learned in the past is that if we plan one kind of emergency, it turns into another,” Doug said. “We need people to have their roles and to be buddied up with one of the candidates, so we know they are all kept safe and in line. We’ll be the ones in the know, but they will think it’s really happening.”
Before long, we had the skeleton of a plan in place, but it needed a lot of work and we needed to get on it. It was definitely going to be a working vacation. We decided to go back to Japan and move into the penthouse for a while. We’d work things out there and start calling all the contestants.
We made a big deal about our travel plans. The cast and family all needed to be seen traveling to get ready for the next season. The girls on the crew hadn’t been seen in public since we finished taping the first season, almost six months ago. We checked everyone’s passport and made sure we were ready, then headed for the airport. Everyone carried The Bob Satchel. We took Avril as our traveling camerawoman, but I’d let others out when they were needed. Avril couldn’t hope to cover everything 24/7.
Twenty-one of us boarded our private plane after having passed through a rigorous security check that did not seem to be the same for other private jets. Every bag was scanned, opened, and searched. The plane showed evidence of having been taken apart and put back together again. The government really wanted my ‘portal.’
Japan was no better. Customs inspected every garment the girls brought with them. Paul, Doug, and I were searched thoroughly. I’d taken to answering questions with a new phrase and it seemed to be having the desired effect.
“Bob-san, how does your portal work?”
“It’s magic,” I responded.
“How do you make the girls disappear?”
“It’s magic.”
“How will your spaceship be powered?”
“It’s magic.”
When we got to the penthouse and the staff greeted us with an elaborate dinner, one of the girls asked, “How do you make simple rice taste so good?”
“It’s magic,” I responded before the chef could answer.
“Bob, do you think it’s a good idea to respond to everybody by telling them, ‘It’s magic.’ I mean, that’s what it is, isn’t it?” Doug asked. “Aren’t we giving away something that should be kept secret?”
“Two things, my friend. First, I spent an entire week trying to convince Sonia I was a demon. She still thinks that’s a big joke, even after she agreed that I must be The Bob. Everyone believes magic doesn’t exist, so telling them something is magic is just saying ‘I won’t tell you.’ Secondly, the governments are looking for some kind of super technology. An old saying is that the science of an advanced society will appear to be magic to a less advanced society. Our reality is that the science of Areola is magic. I can speak the absolute truth and they can interpret it correctly and still not believe it. I say it’s magic and they assume it’s a highly advanced science that needs to be learned—or stolen. They are right and completely wrong.”
“How is research coming on opening a portal from any location?” Peninnah asked.
“Nimia and Sally are convinced that Areola is not in the bag,” I said. “They believe the bag has become a focal point for me to create a gate, but theoretically, I should be able to open a gateway from anywhere, with or without the satchel. I haven’t been able to do it, though. Apparently, I’m being blocked by the ingrained pattern of seeing the satchel as my access point. I’m not sure how to overcome that.”
“The idea of putting a few thousand satchels out into the world was brilliant. It’s getting so that border patrol sees them as a nuisance they need to inspect because everyone wants the portal. If one actually showed up in a bag, they’d be so shocked they wouldn’t know what to do,” Doug laughed.
“That was one of Peninnah’s brilliant ideas,” I said. “She measured my satchel and created a pattern, then sent it to a manufacturer in Korea. They started turning them out by the hundreds and when they hit the market, they were an instant success. The Bob Bag, or Bob Satchel was advertised on all the episode reruns of the first mini-series. When I bought one in Honolulu, Annie told me the price was going up 20% that day because they couldn’t keep them in stock. $600 for an old bag!”
“You can’t get one for less than $750 today,” Peninnah said. “Which has had the added effect of having them in the hands of many very wealthy people who use airports and are highly offended by the kind of security they have to go through. There’s a lot of pressure on TSA and other inspectors to back off. There was a rumor that said the bags would be banned from all international flights, but it got so much pushback that they dropped the idea.”
“My wife is more than a financial genius,” I said proudly.
“Oh, don’t think this was all to take the pressure off of you, dear husband. We’ve made $2.25 million off our share of the royalties. It’s been a very profitable endeavor.”
The next thing on our task list was to call all the contestants I’d approved and bring them to Los Angeles for training. The task fell to Doug as producer of the show and he had to do some fast talking to get them all to agree. There were some who couldn’t believe they’d ever been interviewed by the Bob until Doug sent them a video clip. Then they needed to be convinced that they should come from Turkey, Italy, Australia, India, the UK, and various places in the US to LA. Doug booked each of their flights while they were on the line and sent them first class tickets. May, in Houston, needed a call from Cleveland Bob and The Bob to convince her she should take time off her design duties for the space station to participate.
Eventually, the date was set and all the arrangements were done. We had one more loving night in Japan and boarded our plane back to LA.
A week later, they began to arrive. Gwen, a pharmacist (or chemist) from Scotland. Abby, a professional golfer from Phoenix. Mia, a researching nun from Italy. Sonia, a PhD student from the US, studying in Turkey. Amy, a single mom from Australia. (The girls got me to reconsider her.) Tommy, a musician from LA. Ranisha, a jeweler from Chennai, India. May, a physicist from Cleveland working in Houston on our new spaceship design. And finally, Annie, an actress I met in Honolulu who now resided with my concubines in Areola.
I think the only people who had never had a doubt that I was The Bob when I told them were those we sent a rejection note and check to.
Over the next week, we welcomed them all to the mansion and had a relaxed and enjoyable time with everyone getting to know everyone else. We talked about the schedule, training, filming, and socializing. We were in the midst of a martial arts demonstration by Zhi and Artemisia when one of the staff burst into the room.
“Bob, there are men here who say…” she was cut off as a man pushed her aside, backed up by several others in black vests.
“FBI. Bob, you’re under arrest. Please come peacefully so no one gets hurt.”
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