“Let’s leave the house to them,” Justin said.
“For sure,” Breanna agreed. She stepped outside the open door, and closed it behind her. She felt wonderfully free.
10
GALS GALORE
Bink watched Breanna enter the house. He was sure she would find it satisfactory; it looked very nice from outside. So she would have a place to stay. But they still needed to prevent the Zombie King from coming to the island.
“We have something to show you,” Voracia said.
Bink looked at her. She stood with Demoness Claire and Nefra Naga. They were all remarkably lovely young ladies.
Then, acting in concert, they acted. Nefra changed to her serpentine form and slithered out of her dress. Then she changed back to human form, stunningly naked. Claire’s clothing turned smoky and drifted away in the breeze, leaving her voluptuously nude. And Voracia’s outfit reverted to its natural state of pink bra and pink panties, both tightly filled to overflowing. All three of them had perfect figures. All three smiled and batted their eyes and made a synchronized high kick with one bare leg. Then all slowly turned around in place, displaying every facet of every curve.
Bink was freaked into immobility. He had been married a long time, and seen Xanth’s most beautiful woman in all states of dishabille, but this sudden surprise frontal assault by three lovely creatures caught him unprepared. It was a case of instant overload and male circuit blowout. He knew that his son and grandson were in the same state. The women of the Isle had sprung their trap the moment the three kings had been deprived of the protection of the girl.
“Take them to the retention pool,” Voracia said without moving from Bink’s locked view.
Women appeared from all over. Bink couldn’t look directly, because he could not turn his head, but his peripheral vision showed them, and he heard them behind. None crossed in front of him, for that would have interrupted the freaking view.
He was tilted onto a cart and pushed still standing along the path, following the three exposed women. It was clear that this procedure had been carefully choreographed; there were no mistakes. Probably they had used it on other reluctant men. It was a system designed to see that no living prince escaped the island without being firmly married to one of its women.
In due course they reached the retention pool, which seemed to be an empty cavity covered by a flickering layer of light. Bink felt a prickling across his body as that membrane passed across him. Then he felt quite peaceful, as if all were right with the universe. But he still couldn’t take his eyes off the three exposed women walking in front. They were just as fascinating from behind as in front. That was the magical thing about women: they could capture the male attention from any angle. Only their normal use of clothing allowed any men to function with reasonable efficiency.
At the bottom of the pool the wagons stopped. Then at last the three women covered up. Voracia’s bra and panties thickened into halter and shorts and lost much of their compulsion; D. Claire’s form was shrouded in smoke that became an appealing but not overly explosive dress; and Nefra donned her normal clothing.
Bink relaxed and rubbed his smarting eyes. He saw after images of flexing buttocks. He had had an overdose, and it would take his orbs time to recover fully. He looked around.
He was in a half formed chamber whose walls rose only to waist height, demarking rather than enclosing it. In it were two chairs and a bed. Nothing else. He saw that Dor and Dolph were in similar chambers.
He walked to the half doorway, but stopped. It was open, but some invisible panel balked him from leaving. He walked around the chamber, and found that similar material enclosed it. He climbed on a chair and reached upward. Sure enough, there was an invisible ceiling. He was confined.
He was not unduly worried, because he knew that these magical constraints could not harm him. But Dor and Dolph did not have his kind of protection, so it was better to share their fate for now.
Voracia approached the chamber. She walked through the doorway with no trouble. She sat on one of the chairs, gesturing him to the other. “I have decided that you, being the youngest, are my most appealing prospect,” she said.
“I’m not young.”
She shrugged, making her halter ripple. “Have it your way. Marry me, and we will leave the Isle of Women forever.”
“I’m already married. You know that.”
“You will have to renounce her. I will be your wife from here on.”
“Never.”
Her halter fuzzed into the bra, which of course it was all the time; only its appearance changed, to make it less evocative when she wished. Her short trousers remained. Thus her body was not completely compelling, but was a good deal more than indifferent. “There are certain things you must understand, Bink. No man leaves the Isle without marrying one of us; the only uncertainty is which one. If I am unable to persuade you, the others must have their turns. You will remain here until you accede to one. Your best course is to make an early agreement, so as not to be confined for a tedious period.”
“I married Chameleon fifty six years ago. She has been an excellent and loyal wife. I will not renounce her.”
She eyed him coolly. “Fifty six years. That is a very long time for a man who is twenty one years old.”
“I was youthened. I am actually eighty one years old.”
Voracia shrugged. Her bra became translucent. He tried to keep his eyes clear of it, but they were magically drawn to that translucency. “Then you are old enough to be realistic about your prospects. I doubt that you will encounter a better prospect for a wife than me.”
“I won’t encounter any prospect. I am already married.”
Her bra became fully transparent. His eyeballs creaked in their sockets as he tried vainly to wrench them away. “I have a certain amount of time to make my case with you. If I do not succeed, I will have to give way to the next woman, who is D. Claire, unless she has already married one of the others. I think you would prefer me, all things considered, to the demoness. For one thing, only my clothing changes, not my actual body. You might find that reassuring.” She took a deep breath.
Fortunately Bink’s mouth was not incapacitated the way his eyes were. “It is not a question of preference. I am not marrying any of you.”
She sighed. That was a considerable effect, considering her bareseeming front. “I see I shall have to use stronger persuasion.” She stood and stepped toward him.
Bink tried desperately to look away, but his eyes were glued to her front, and their surfaces would have peeled off if he hauled on them too hard. He tried to stand, but she got there first and sat on his lap. She put her hand under his chin and lifted his head. He tried to resist, but felt strangely weak. “There is a peace spell on the retainer pool,” she explained. “You can move and speak, but you can’t become violent or resistive.”
“But that will not make me marry you.”
She angled his head until she could kiss him. He tried to deny it, but the fact was that her lips were very nice. He was lucky that these women hadn’t discovered lip bomb. After a moment she broke it off. “Now if you care to, we can adjourn to the bed, where I will delight you excruciatingly. Then you will be obliged to marry me, having by your action renounced your prior wife. That is really the easiest way to do it.”
“I’m not going to do it.” But it was very hard to be sure of that. Would his talent consider seduction to be harmful?
“If you resist me, and the other women, we will then commence the second round. You will be given food and a pitcher of water. You may eat freely, but when you drink, you will commit.”
“Why?”
“Because the pitcher will contain love elixir. Whatever woman is with you at the time you drink will become the object of your insatiable affection. But she may not be your best partner. So you will be better off to choose for yourself, before thirst chooses for you.”
They really seemed to have it figured out. But they did not know tha
t his talent was to be invulnerable to harm by magic. His talent seldom showed itself directly, but it was always effective. It had made it plain in bygone times that the loss of Chameleon was considered harm. So there would be some unusual coincidence that freed him from this marriage trap. Assuming his magic wasn’t satisfied to have him be seduced and be quiet about it. That notion continued to unsettle him.
And of course, he reminded himself again, his talent did not necessarily protect his two companions. They were both younger than he, so probably more vulnerable to the temptations of revealed flesh. Thus it was probably better not to wait for his talent, but to find some better avenue for all three of them soon. He had to keep reviewing that, lest the distractions of the flesh make him forget. Voracia’s firmly heaving flesh was almost touching his face, and that was about as distracting as it could be.
“If you do not respond in a moment, I will change my lower garment,” Voracia murmured. It was no empty threat.
But what better avenue was there? He was trying to think, but that invisible bra right under his nose was beguiling him something awful.
“You asked for it,” she said, and her trousers shrank into a tight blue panty. His eyes couldn’t move, but her plush bottom was on his lap, and he could feel the change of color as well as of material.
But her ploy failed, because now he was unable to move or speak. He just sat there, staring.
“Time’s up,” a voice from outside the chamber called.
“Curses!” Voracia cursed. She reformed her outfit into something relatively demure and got off his lap. “Remember: you can still ask for me, if you wish.”
Then she was gone, and Claire was there. She did not sit on his lap; she simply picked him up with demon strength and laid him on the bed. She began to unbutton his shirt.
“Objection!” someone called. “Woman is not allowed to undress prospect. She has to persuade him to do it himself.”
Claire looked furious, but desisted. She lay down beside him, and kissed his face. Her lips made his mouth seem to float up to the ceiling and burst into a spectacular array of flying colors. “You surely know how much fun a demoness can be, when she wants to be,” she said. “And when you marry me, I will get half your soul, which will make me have some decency and conscience, so that I won’t leave you or otherwise embarrass you when you annoy me. So I can give you continuous delight unmatched by any ordinary woman, who would of course in time grow old and wrinkled.” She kissed him again, as her dress fogged into nothingness.
“Sorry,” Bink said, when she allowed him to speak. The rest of him felt as if it were floating up to rejoin his lips. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Not even if I let you do this?” she inquired, taking his hand and bringing it to her bare breast.
“Objection!” a voice cried. “She’s not allowed to make him do that! He has to do it for himself.”
Claire’s eyes fired out tiny sparks, but she let go of his hand. “So do it for yourself,” she suggested, inhaling.
Somehow he managed to resist her charms, though it was teasingly difficult. She left him quivering with frustrated longing, but did not break his resolve. It had been shaken and dented and battered and kissed, but not actually broken.
Then she was gone, and Nefra was with him. He took some solace in the realization that this meant that neither Claire nor Nefra had prevailed against Dor or Dolph either. But the two other kings were surely weakening. There had to be a better way out!
“I’m sorry I had to deceive you,” Nefra murmured as she lay beside him without clothing. “But we had to get that Black Wave girl out of the way; she was interfering.”
That reminded him of Breanna. “What happened to her?” he asked.
“Prince Xeth Zombie arrived. None of us high on the list wanted him, so we guided him immediately to the house so that he could win Breanna.”
“But she was trying to escape him!” he exclaimed. “That’s why she came here!”
“Well, she let him into the house, and they have not emerged, so perhaps she changed her mind.”
“You betrayed her too!” he accused her.
“I love it when you show emotion,” she said, and planted a fierce kiss on him.
“It’s negative emotion.”
“That’s all right. I’ll take that for now. Would you like to rape me? That counts the same as a seduction. I promise not to resist effectively.”
“Just get out of here!” he gritted.
In time she did. She was replaced by a more ordinary girl, fully and decorously clothed. “I am Loni,” she said. “What color do you think my hair is?”
Surprised by this approach, he sat up and studied her hair. “Brown. No, red. No, green. No—” he was confused. “I can’t decide what color it is.”
“That’s my talent: folk can’t agree what color my hair is. I admit it’s not much of a talent, but by the same token I am no threat to you. If you marry me I will obey you in all things, and do my very best to please you always. I would just love to be a princess.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not free to marry anyone.”
Her face clouded up, and so did her hair. “But—but this is my only chance! It may be months before another prince comes to the Isle!”
Bink realized that she was young. He put his arm around her heaving shoulders, trying to cheer her. She turned into him and gave him a wet kiss. And he realized that whatever her age, she was just as determined and artful as the others. So he steeled himself and resisted her blandishments of whatever nature.
The next woman was small and elfin. “I’m one of the Brown Knees,” she said. “See?” She spread her knees as she sat on the chair. Sure enough, they were nice and brown. But in the process, she showed him well up under her short skirt, and he knew that she, too, was doing her best to seduce him in a hurry. He managed to blink his eyes closed just before they reached the freakout region.
The next was Molly Coddle. “I just love children!” she said brightly. “I hope to get a dozen delivered.”
There had to be some way out of this! But the women were addressing him continuously, using every kind of artifice, and he couldn’t concentrate.
“I am Lasha Lamia. I can create cloudstones.” She demonstrated, forming a stone so light that it floated, yet was hard enough to use for construction. “I could help you build a nice, light castle, that you could pick up and move when you wanted a change of scenery.” She leaned forward, showing the scenery inside her loose blouse.
It was neverending! He was holding out, but how long could Dor or Dolph survive? Especially Dolph, who really was as young as he looked.
“Woof! I’m a real bitch.”
He looked startled. It was a dog—a talking female dog. “How did you get in here?” he asked.
The dog became a cat. “I told them you might like a pet feline. How do you like me? I am Catrana. I’ll purr if you stroke me.”
He stroked her, and she purred.
Then she became a teakettle dragon. “I can be any creature you like,” she hissed. “Marry me, and be perpetually entertained.”
Oh—another demoness. “Sorry, I don’t need to marry a talking pet.”
“Oh, phooey,” she swore. “It worked for my friend Vera Similitude, with her two dogs Disa Pointer and Up Setter.” She started unlacing her bodice. “I’ll never disa point or up set you.”
The next was tall, thin, and ugly. “I am Tipsy Troll. I know you won’t like me, so I’ll shut up for my time and give you a chance to rest.”
“Bless you!” he exclaimed, and kissed her.
She was so surprised she fell backwards onto the bed. This wasn’t artifice, because she lay absolutely still and silent, letting him rest.
Now that he had a chance to think, a good thought came: what these women wanted were princes or kings. But there weren’t enough in all Xanth to accommodate them all. But there were enough in another realm: Ida’s moons. Because every person who ever existed, or would exist, or m
ight exist was there. There should be hundreds of perfectly good princes who would love to have experience with women of real Xanth. If there were just some way to make contact.
And there was! Dor had saved that jar of sleep potion. They could go to those dream worlds and find princes, and—and what? The princes would not be able to leave their dream realm, and the women would not be able to go permanently to Ida’s moons. Unless the Zombie Master found a way for his zombies to go, and—no, because the zombies’ bodies would remain buried in Xanth. Real folk couldn’t be buried like that. They would have to sleep on beds, and wake every so often to eat and exercise.
Tipsy got up. “My time is done,” she said sadly. “I hope you enjoyed your respite.”
She was a decent woman. Suddenly he wanted to do something for her. He couldn’t marry her, but maybe he could help her. “Don’t go,” he said.
“Oh, but I have to. My time is up, and the Vine cousins are next.”
“Vine cousins?”
“Clinging and Bo Vine. They—”
“Stay,” he said firmly. “I can’t marry you, but maybe I can find a prince for you. And the others. I want you to stay and help me work this out.”
“But I can’t. My turn—”
Bink faced the door, and saw the line of women waiting there. “Tipsy Troll is staying with me, for now. We’re looking for a way to find princes for all of you. Now back off, or I won’t do it.”
Surprised, they backed off. Bink turned back to Tipsy. “Here’s the thing: I know where there are hundreds of princes, and I know how you can meet them. But I don’t know how you can marry them.”
“Oh, we’ll make them marry us, if we catch them. At least those of us with formidable figures will.” She glanced disparagingly down at herself. “Where are they?”
“On Ida’s moons.”
She looked blank. “Where?”
“Princess Ida has—” He paused, realizing that this could get complicated, and they might not believe it. “I’ll show you. Then you can tell the others. Go to King Dor and ask him for the jar of sleep potion.”
Zombie Lover Page 22
