Tower of Babylon Ch. 01: Origins

"Oh my, you horny bitch," Helena exclaimed, and gave her some tongue. Priscilla panted in satisfaction. A mindless time later, Sung interrupted, "Mind if I tag in?"

Paul grinned, "About time we became hole buddies." Sung pulled Priscilla away and did her doggie style as Cat continued with Paul, this time with Helena acting as flank. Helena cooed, "Damn, she is so cute. I could nibble on her all day."

Helena ended up cancelling her next class.

She was called back to the Dean's office once more. Melinda Chin was there, tanned legs crossed but this time with a more agreeable expression. "I've heard good things. Attendance is up and the funders are pleased, keep up the good work. Oh, by the way, there is one more thing."

The Dean nodded somberly, "You're banned from wearing clothes while on campus from now on. If you want to wear them off campus that's up to you, but the police have been notified and have added you to the list."

"There's a list?" she asked, incredulous. "I guess I should have known."

Melinda spread her hands, "Always has been. I'm on it too." She stood up, letting her clothes fall to the floor. The Dean stood up, "I think this calls for a celebration."

He wasn't wearing any pants and it was quite obvious where his interest lay.

"Oh, it's that kind of meeting," Priscilla giggled.

Segment 9: Days of Heaven

If Gwen was shocked when he brought Cat in to shop at the market, she didn't seem to express it. As they were checking out, she clucked, "I knew you were feeding at least two people. I'm so jealous."

Cat sidled up to the counter, "His girlfriend is out of town this week. You want to come over, we got enough food. Chill, you know."

To Paul's surprise, Gwen perked up, "Awesome. I'm off in an hour, can you ping me your address? I'll clean up and head over, I'll bring beer." Bemused, Paul synced his info with her phone.

When she showed up, she had a six-pack in a net bag over one shoulder but was otherwise wearing nothing besides her slippers. She explained, "Thought I'd go with the flow, didn't seem right to be the only girl with clothes."

Cat kissed and hugged her, "She's perfect. Let's keep her!"

After eating, he gave Helena a call and put Gwen on video to get her approval. She said, "Another bitch for the crew, sure go ahead. I was going to pick up this model, she's super hot. I'll introduce her after I fuck her tonight, if it all works out. You go, gal!"

"Fuck it, let's party," Paul thumbed the call cancel button and dialed Sung. "Hey, we got an all nighter going, since tomorrow is a holiday. Bring Jenny over while you're at it."

Sung gave him a sour look, "Oh sure, invite me when you smoking girlfriend is out of town. I got it, that's the way it is. I see it."

"Calm down, check this out," Paul aimed the camera at Gwen who was already devouring Cat on the couch. Her fuzzy snatch was drooling in full view.

"Oh shit, she's fine too. I'm in!"

Gwen ended up moving in without bothering to bring anything except a toothbrush.

He dove into his trust fund to rent a two story house as it was getting crowded. Helena was the only one with her own room as everyone else shared, including the model who flew in on weekends if she wasn't working.

The neighbors thought he was a cultist starting a nudist colony and he decided maybe that wasn't far from the truth. He'd remember his days in that house the best part of his life even though the quantity was low in comparison to his later years of debauchery.

The model that Helena brought in was actually an artist so had some experience in exhibitionism with several live installations with her as the object. She crafted quite a few living statue concepts that were later popularized for the wealthy and her most famous concept became the centerpiece of the future Enclave which didn't exist yet at the time. She was one of the first ever licensed for private practice in the new field of body sculpting, the next gen cosmetic surgery that used cultured biomimetic cell colonies grown on computer rendered bone lattices to design the first human dolls. It was quickly banned for decades before being resurfacing again much later.

Priscilla came to visit the house one day, to her surprise the strange piece in the front landscaping was actually Yasmine embedded in a bronze body cast with one leg raised high like an ice skater and chest thrust forward. There was hidden machinery to keep her from dehydrating, state of the art at the time.

She startled when the statue blinked and said hello.

"How long does she plan to be out there?" she asked Gwen when she opened the front door of the otherwise residential home a few blocks from campus.

Gwen yawned, "Been a week, I think. When she gets bored she uses VR glasses to watch her favorite hentai streams, though she says that someday the resolution of corneal implants will finally be good enough to replace them."

Sung was on the couch, playing a video game with Jenny curled up beside him, chatting on her phone. Priscilla wandered upstairs to the top floor which had remodeled as one big room that would be a swinger's dream palace or private sex club. Paul was doing sit ups while Helena was lying face down getting massage oil rubbed onto her by Cat. Some other girl Priscilla didn't know was asleep in the corner.

Priscilla looked around, hands on hips, "You've broken open your piggy bank, I see. You've got more girls in here than a sorority house."

"There's still room if you want to stay," Paul took a towel to wipe the sweat. His interest was already tenting up his trunks. As a formal greeting, Priscilla pulled them down to fellate him. He pulled away before nutting as he liked to keep a buzz going all day.

"What's the occasion?" he headed to the open shower stall in one corner of the room that was lined with tile.

"Nothing, just heard you were going to have a house party today and I was free."

"Oh, that was yesterday, but you can hang around if you want. Technically, every day is a house party these days. There's a fridge with drinks, help yourself. Or grab something from the toy bowl." There was a giant bins overflowing with various bric-a-brac and items that could stock a sex shop.

Gwen and the others came up to hold a fisting class for the women. Sung was as jumpy as ever, since he couldn't decide between the show and his video game. Priscilla ended up with both arms working like a puppet master, one in Gwen and the other up Cat. Helena tried to finish the chain by getting her hand up Priscilla but she wasn't loose enough for it so she just used four fingers and a thumb up her ass. Jenny took snaps, then they all fucked.

Sung seemed a bit philosophical as he lay amidst the pile. Helena planked on top of Paul, face to face, with Cat as the top bun of the sandwich, her own head in Helene's ass as Paul had the tip of his spear inside of his girlfriend. He was focused on trying not to cum as Sung opined, "Have you ever noticed, Ms. Henley, that men get horny during wars and shit? I mean, look at WWII and the baby boom and then Vietnam and the threat of nuclear war coincided with the free love movement. And more recently, the economic crashes and all, and the flood of porn everywhere. Well, and what's going on now."

"What exactly are you wondering," she asked as she lay, her head on Jenny's lap, slick with sweat. The mystery girl was splayed across them all as Priscilla absently rubbed her pubic mound. Cat got up to get a drink.

He sat up and adjusted himself so he could slide into the unknown girl as Priscilla curled her fingers around his shaft. He scratched his head, "I mean, I think it's mortality, or the fear of it that drives people to fuck like rabbits. Kind of an evolutionary thing, right?"

Gwen piped in, "Wars decimate populations, so we're driven to make babies to replace them?" Sung ejaculated into the girl and collapsed into Jenny's arms.

"Rape is something that happens a lot in wars, too. Killing and fucking, all part of the human condition? That's really dark," Jenny added as she absently toyed with Sung's freshly flaccid cock. "Sung, can we just drop it?"

He nodded, moaning, as Jenny worked him back up again. Sung turned toward Helena shyly, "I haven't had the honor..."

She grinned awkwardly and rolled away to the opposite side of Paul. Stung, Sung looked downcast until Priscilla and Jenny distracted him with their attentions. He took solace in them, knowing full well he was barred from Helena's promised land.

Well, he couldn't complain, really.

As for Paul, he figured life couldn't get much better than this, so he meant to enjoy it. He knew that taking the money from that particular account tacitly announced his intentions to his father. He was ready to accept it, maybe he'd run the family business with a kinder hand. Vaguely, he knew that the conglomerate had its fingers in all forms of industry, both legal and illicit.

But that was something to worry about after he graduated.

Segment 10: Out on the Town

There was no such thing as freedom of course, Priscilla came to understand.

She still had to pay the bills and she knew she was basically a prostitute. She'd just lost any will to fight it as she became the college's plaything. Marriage, a boyfriend, she didn't need any of that right now. She enjoyed lecturing in the nude, the eyes of students and faculty all over her. It was a popular class but many days there wasn't much actual education going on, unless sex counted. As a lark, she even kept the presentation going when one of the janitors snuck in for a quickie. Everyone was amused by it so it became part of her routine, such that she was almost able to not break cadence when a random student walked up to fuck her as she spoke at the podium.

For the first week or so, she was a minor celebrity on campus, as people took video of her walking to and from class, having sex at the library or cafeteria, or general mucking about when she was on break. Once again, a group of parents were scandalized and filed formal complaints and threated lawsuits which all ended up mysteriously disappearing. No one spoke of it openly, but it was rumored the most vociferous ones ended up being paid off or otherwise mollified, one way or the other. The darker rumors were quickly quashed.

One day, she bumped into Cat wandering off leash.

"You've got something on your forehead, Cat," she pointed out.

"Oh, thanks," Cat brushed the milky fluid with her thumb and sucked it. "Missed a spot."

Priscilla leaned forward and ran her tongue over Cat's face, "Got a few more, you dirty girl. What are you doing out here by yourself? Where's Paul?"

"Today's my free day. He's off with one of his girlfriends, don't know which one these days. He's really a Parker boy now."

"So, is your job done, corrupting the youth then you traipse off into the sky like a perverted Mary Poppins?"

They held hands and continued down the path past the soccer field. The players waved and a couple ran over already pulling their shirts off. It was hard to have a conversation these days but somehow they managed.

Cat panted, "Sorry, I'm a lifer, bound to my master."

"How dedicated," Helena responded in between cocks. "I like being a free agent, personally. Either way, I understand you now. You really threw me for a loop when I first saw you."

"Free food, sex whenever I want it, not a worry in the world. Living the dream, baby." Cat raised a hand and Helena slapped it.

"Ok, I get it now, but at least I am saving up for a retirement. What do you plan to do when you grow too old for this?"

After watching them lick the cum off of each other, the players satisfied and headed back to their game, Cat replied, "I don't know. Might not be much of a future. There are rumors of forced conscription for everyone, no exceptions, if the wars get any bigger. They say South America is a dead zone." She stared at the boys kicking the ball on the field. "They might not have much longer, so I figure we give 'em something before it all falls apart and they end up bare ass hanging in some battlefield and no nice girl to peg them while they're dying. On the other hand, maybe peacetime is bad for the sex drive, people get sandy cunts and all."

"Wow, dark. You're ruining my post-coital afterglow," Helena remarked.

"Sorry, let's find some more guys to fuck." Cat never seemed happier than to be in that moment, so that's the way she lived the rest of her life.

On other days, Priscilla was lonely but all she had to do was walk somewhere and she could find someone to plug that hole or they found her as word spread of her availability. They removed the locks on her door and when things became a bit too hectic she would take long showers though people still would find her there and pull her out, still dripping so she'd have to shower two or three times before she could finish cleaning herself. They really had no intention on leaving her alone, did they? Not that she really wanted an answer to that question anymore.

Her feet grew callouses and the city never really grew cold these days so it was fine to go out naked at practically all hours. She just had to make sure to moisturize and keep up the sunscreen during the days. There were others like her, a smattering at first, but more often she would greet a stranger on the street walking with their master though it seemed she was still a rarity, running free on her own, so available to everyone.

The rules were just forming up, and there were some conflicts although, fortunately, she avoided most of them. She kept taking more and more risks, pushing the envelope. The best times for her were after midnight, where the thrill of danger filled her veins. Anything could happen then, though she learned later that Mr. Parker had put out a strict word on the street: Any harm to her would be punished with strict retribution.

Either way, word had a way of spreading so she had to switch things up after a while or she'd get ganged up more often than not and although that had its own appeal, she relished the hunt down quiet moonlit backstreets, her skin exposed and tingling, ready at any moment for the next fix or lucky john who got her services for free. Even the disappointments interested her, as she'd tag their numbers on her smart watch for casual rain checks later. She wanted to give back what she was getting after all: all the love and attention, as she thought of it.

Priscilla knew she had become a sex addict, but it was much too late by that time.

Sometimes, a bar letting out would get a bit rough with her, but she managed to survive it. There were a lot of limp dicks and sad sacks who couldn't perform, but she had enough to choose from that most nights ended up satisfying her urges. She found herself winding back to campus after filtering through the section 8 housing and their inhabitants, sometimes hot footing it out of a flat when the spouse, male or female as it may be, caught them in the act. She took a bath in the fountain as dawn broke. Yawning, she saw the groundskeeper and called out to him. He happily dropped his pants and he almost ended up getting fired since he took her several times over the course of the morning.

She didn't bother going home and instead took a shower in the gym before class started, hair amiss. The students smacked her on the butt and looked her bruises over, shaking their heads in mock revulsion.

Sung noticed as he parted her ass cheeks to take a peek, "You must have had a night, Ms. Henley. Even your asshole looks torn up." She only managed to get through half the lecture and two dicks before she nodded off so they carried her back to her place, fucked her on her own bed for once and left her to dry out.

She rolled over and found a girl sleeping on the floor and they spooned as the afternoon waned. Someone brought food over as a gift, fucked them both, and wandered off. She napped again until midnight hit and she sprung up and did all over again. She was a depraved addict, so she counted herself lucky that she had the stamina, and assets, to indulge in it to her hearts content.

Everyone knew her and she knew everyone in the biblical sense, there were no boundaries at all. It was a like a continual high that could be topped off at any moment of any day. She would find herself tingling in line at the bake shop in the campus commons and someone would slip a finger in and she'd climax almost immediately. Visitors were the best, as they were still a bit shy, taking selfies with the campus tramp who never turned anyone down. A newbie couple flirting with idea of a threesome was always fun.

One such pair flagged her from their minivan, pulling over and sliding the door open. Usually, this would be cause for alarm as the tattooed man who stepped out, Cheshire grin on his face, looked like a thug though the wife had a kind face, if a bit frumpy.

After groping her for a bit, the husband slung Priscilla over his shoulder in a mock abduction as the wife took video of the event. The rear of the minivan had the seats removed and replaced with a mattress. He tossed her there and took off his jeans while the wife setup the camera on a mount attached to the back of the front seat and began driving. The man pinned her arms and penetrated her without any foreplay.

She was happy that she was ready for him, as she always was these days.

When he finished, they were near the outskirts of the city, in a run down neighborhood but she tamped down the worry. Once more, he carried her out to an abandoned house with the wife trailing behind, camera in hand. A spike of adrenaline hit her as he parted plastic tarps they had hung up in a back room, invisible from the street. She half expected a barrel or a table with saws, but there was only some cushions and blankets thrown on the floor which had been cleaned. The wife handed the camera to the husband, and stripped. She was chubby, but cute and in her late thirties or early forties. She seemed nervous as she nuzzled Priscilla on the neck.

"First time?" Priscilla spoke at last during the wordless journey.

"No. Well sort of," she replied, abashedly, dimples on her rosy face.

"I'll take the lead, then," Priscilla offered. She gently pushed the wife down, parting her legs. She French-kissed the woman, who moaned softly, running her hands down her sides. She trembled. They made love on the floor of the empty house, tongues discovering each other until the husband couldn't control himself. He put the camera on the tripod and joined in.

Priscilla cuddled with the wife while the husband packed up after they were done.

"Do you like it?" the wife asked. "Living like this?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. I don't hate it. Could be worse, I guess?" Maybe it was some kind of sex virus, like she had speculated. Is so, it was quite virulent: the wife chose to walk back to the minivan naked. To Priscilla's consternation, they closed the door and drove away, the wife, still nude, in the driver's seat.

"Goddamn it," Priscilla cursed, not looking forward to the walk back on the littered sidewalk, strewn with shattered glass and overgrown weeds coming out of every crack. Only a few of the homes seemed occupied but no one came out to investigate although some people stared at her from their porches, some with firearms in their hands. A gang of youths spotted her, hooted like a pack of hungry wolves and began approaching. For the first time, Priscilla became genuinely concerned.

Just when it seemed she was done for, there was the burp of a police horn being tapped and the flash of red and blue lights. A squad car had silently pulled up behind her, the officer leaning an arm on the open passenger side window. The female officer, hair tied back in a tight bun, pointed to the back seat, "Get in. Fast."

Relieved, Priscilla climbed into the back, ignoring the stains and trash. The two cops in the front seat stared down the disappointed gang-bangers. Her partner clutched his sidearm in one hand, safety off, while she had a rifle ready, pointed out the window. They didn't relax until they were back onto safer territory.