New Beginning 1001

Despite my longing for a goddess the hunt was my favorite part of the game. I had enjoyed plenty of evenings as the hunter but now preferred women come to me. They would tap me on the shoulder or pinch my ass and steal me to a reserved corner. My skills with women were sharp, they competed shamelessly for my attention.

The most populated orgy of the year did not begin until the third night of the summer solstice party. My guests arrived masked for the reputations of politicians and aristocrats had to be guarded. At sundown house servants lined candles in glass domes along the carriage drive. Hundreds of Thomas Chippendale canopy beds surrounded by lanterns framed my estate. Many stood at windows and marveled at the panorama when they arrived.

We lived for those nights, and during the revel of seventeen sixty-two I was rendered immortal.

The opening ceremony began the way it had for centuries. All we knew was that it was a tradition to establish order to lustful chaos. The thirteen goddesses waited for us, and I anticipated their presence with yearning.

But some ninny got the purchase order wrong and thirteen carloads of clowns arrived in our eagerly lustful presence. It was a culture clash of ass pinching and tweeting horns, of fake red noses and engorged red prongs, of balloon animals fashioned from condoms and seltzer bottles that sprayed lavender lubricant. 

By morning, each of the thirteen goddess had a pair of newly deflowered followers, I had my immortality prize for creating the best debauch in the eighteenth century, and the resulting offspring were knee high to a prat and just as sassy. 


Opening: Elizabeth Tudor.....Continuation: Dave