“Do come in,” she said, forcing a bit of a fart. “May the farce be with you.”
“And with you,” he agreed, stepping awkwardly in, emitting a meek an swering fart. “I—I’m called Micro. I—”
“I saw,” she said. “You powered your way to victory with a magic fart. It was a remarkable achievement.”
“I do want to meet you,” he said. “But I wanted to clean up and change first. This—I’m not ready.”
“This is merely an interview,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. It felt good to be in control, even to this limited extent. “As you surely know, I am Veil, the Maiden in the Tower. I am required to choose one of the seven daily victors to be my sex slave master for the coming year. I want my choice to be informed.” “Uh, sure, of course. But I wanted to make a better impression.” She smiled, though of course it didn’t show through her shroud. She sat on her high stool opposite him and leaned forward so as to give her bare breasts better definition. She wanted to dazzle him if she could, again with the object of getting honest responses. “Why are you here, Micro?”
His eyes fixed on her breasts, as she had intended. “To rescue you, of course.” She laughed. “Rescue me? I assumed you wanted a sex slave.” “No. I mean, I’m sure that would be nice, but that’s not why I came. I—
I don’t believe in slavery.” This was certainly different. “You don’t even know me. Why should you
want to rescue me?” “I—it’s awkward to explain.” Especially if he was lying. “Make the effort.” “Well, for one thing, where I come from, women aren’t slaves.” “Where do you come from?” “I don’t know whether you’d understand. It’s—it’s beyond Fartingale.” “Try me.” “It’s called America. It—” “America!” “It’s like this, only with less, uh, farts. Not much magic at all.” “I know. I’m from America.” He stared at her veil. “You’re from home!” “I was abducted and brought here, with my son.” “Son?”
“You didn’t know?” Chance was stirring, so she went to the crib, picked him up, and started nursing him. If this turned Micro off, that was something she needed to know. “My son Chance is three months old. So obviously I’m not a maiden in the archaic sense. I can’t think why the beasts who run this ongoing lottery selected me to be their prize of the week. Maybe they didn’t realize I wasn’t alone, and then it was too late to find another. Is that a problem for you?” “I, uh, I’m just surprised. I assumed—” “That the Maiden in the Tower was a true maiden,” she finished for him.
“Normally I’m sure she is. If you’re looking for a virgin, I’m not the one.” “I—I guess it doesn’t matter.” “I can and will fulfill my obligation to be your sex slave, if you are the one I choose. Chance is well behaved, and sleeps more than he wakes. Any delays will be of short duration.”
“No, I mean I guess you’re the one, with or without a baby. It just takes some adjusting.” “The one for what?” “Well, I was told my—my ideal woman was captive, and I had only a
week to rescue her. So I got on it immediately.” This was curious. “Who told you that?” “It doesn’t matter. I believed it.” He was being evasive. “Who?” “A—a succubus. A magical creature who—” “I am familiar with the term. You had relations with a female demon,
before you came to Fartingale?” “Uh, yeah,” he said, staring at his feet. “Obviously you do not have a regular woman in your life.” “Yes, I don’t.” “So you thought you’d like to have a sex slave for a year.” “No! I mean, sure, I’d like that, but that’s not—” “Not why you came here,” she finished. “I believe we have already covered that territory. So the succubus told you where there was better sex to be had, and you decided on a rescue mission.”
“I guess it does sound sort of stupid. Maybe it’s a cruel hoax I fell for. I just thought—if it really was my ideal woman, how could I not try to save her, somehow?”
He seemed sincere. She softened. “At least you had to investigate the situation.” “Yeah.” His eyes remained fixed on the floor. “So am I your ideal woman?” “Well, I don’t know. In appearance, sure.” “You can’t even see my face.” He blushed. “Apart from that, I mean. And I don’t know your personal
ity. So probably I shouldn’t have come here.” He seemed to be an ordinary, fallible man, with some exceptions. He was from her homeland, which counted for a lot. But that raised a serious question. “How is it you have the ability of magical farting?” “I—can’t explain that.” “You’re being evasive.” “Yes. I’m sorry.” Curiouser and curiouser. “You mean you could explain it, but you won’t.” “Yes.” “How do you expect to win my favor if you aren’t candid with me?” “I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m not the brightest bulb on
the chandelier.” She smiled again, though the expression was wasted. “Somehow you got hold of a magical ability and used it to get you here. Now you want to take me home with you.”
“Yes, if you want to come.” He shrugged. “I know there’s not much chance.” “We could be totally incompatible.” “Yes, I suppose the succubus would really laugh if she got me hooked to
the wrong woman. But I guess it’s a gamble I’m ready to make.” “Because I have a good figure?” “That, too.” Yet he was from her homeland. If she went with him, she could go home immediately. That truly tempted her. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?” “I’m a file clerk.” “You expect to maintain a family on that level of pay?” His eyes had strayed upward. Now they fell to the floor again. “I guess
not.” “You know there’s no market for magic farts where you live.” “No more farting,” he agreed. “Were I to choose you, we might be better off remaining here in
Fartingale, where you seem to have some renown as a farter.” “I don’t want to stay here.” “But back in America, I would have to support you.” He flushed. “I guess I see the joke. Maybe you’re my ideal woman, but
I’m not your ideal man. I guess I’ve made a real fool of myself.” He had, yet there was something endearing about it. There were worse things than being with a man she could manage. As a sex slave, she would have to support whatever man she selected, at least for a year. In that sense, Micro was no worse than the others.
Veil suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to follow up on her riddle challenge. None of the other contestants had mentioned it, and this one might not even know of it. Perhaps now it would help her make her decision. “Where can you walk south a mile, east a mile, north a mile, and be back where you started?” Micro smiled. “I’ve heard that one. The north pole.” “Agreed.” Now she sprang the second riddle. “Where else?” “That one really stumped me when I heard it. I talked it over with my friends, and we finally figured it out: draw a one mile circle around the south pole, then start from a mile north of that. That will do it. Or draw a half mile circle, and walk twice around it, and back.” He glanced at her hood. “Is this supposed to be a test? Because if it is, I flunked it. I know the answer only because my friends figured it out, and I remember.”
So much for selection. Yet his candor appealed. “Tell me a story that will make me laugh.” If a demoness could be won over by a man who made her laugh, maybe it would be true for a captive Maiden. “You like storytelling?” “Sometimes.” He pondered a moment, then obliged. “There was this famous, arrogant bachelor celebrity. A friend came to him and said ‘Hey, Hal, I’ve set up the perfect date for you.’”
Veil listened as Chance nursed, letting her mind get into the story so it seemed she was seeing it first hand. She pictured herself as the date, mentally substituting her own name for the one in the story. Hal was interested. ‘Who is she?’ ‘She’s called Veil. She’s really a great girl.’ Hal was suspicious, because his so-called friends were always trying to fix him up with stray women whose faces and figures were not their fortunes. For some reason they thought that the best women for him were intellectual types. ‘So how did this great date get set up?’ ‘Well, that doesn’t rea
lly matter. You’ll like her, believe me.’ ‘It matters. What brings her here?’ His friend fidgeted, then grudgingly came out with it. ‘She entered this contest, and she did really well, but she didn’t actually win. So she got the consolation prize: a date with you.’ ‘Consolation prize!’ Hal exclaimed, outraged. ‘Me?’ ‘It’s not how it sounds. When she learned who you are, she was all for it.
Eager, even. She—’ ‘Forget it!’ ‘But she’s such a great girl! She’ll be so disappointed if she can’t be with
you. You’ll like her, I swear!’ ‘Absolutely not. Get out of here.’ His friend sighed. He walked to a cloaked woman standing nearby. ‘I’m
sorry, honey. He won’t go for it. No date.’ ‘Darn!’ Veil said. She threw off her cloak and stalked away, naked. Hal stared after her, noting her hourglass figure and glorious tresses.
‘Just what was this contest?’ ‘It was for the world’s most perfectly developed body,’ his friend said. ‘But
she didn’t win. The judge’s niece won. So Veil was runner-up.’ ‘I changed my mind,’ Hal said. ‘I’ll date her.’ But it was too late. The rejected woman was gone. Hal had lost his per
fect date. “Served him right,” Veil said, laughing. Then she paused, considering. “It’s really not that funny, but I did laugh. You must understand me on some level.” “Well, woman like stories about arrogant men who lose out,” Micro said. “We do indeed. Maybe you’ll do.” “Because I told a story?” he asked incredulously. Chance had finished nursing and gone back to sleep. She set him carefully back in the crib. It was time to fathom the rest of this man, so she could make her decision. “Kiss me.” “Uh—” She stood, leaned down toward him as he sat on the couch, and kissed him solidly on the mouth. He was clearly startled, but his lips firmed up; he did know how to kiss. “How much sex would you require of me, for that year?” “None! I mean, not if you didn’t want to.” She removed her farthingale skirt and sat on his lap, surprising him again.
She could feel his penis stiffening against her bottom. “None?” “It’s supposed to be mutual. Sure I want you, but if you don’t want me,
then it’s no good.” “How quaint.” She turned into him so that her breasts touched him, and
kissed him again. “But I am required to desire you, in effect.” He was breathing hard. “You sure do turn me on. But I think you’re
playing with me. Maybe you should let me go and choose the man you want.” “Maybe I should,” she agreed. “Why are you holding back?” “Because I don’t trust this.” Of course he knew she was playing with him. “How do you mean?” “Why should someone abduct you and your baby, put you here for men to compete for, and send word to me about my ideal woman? It smells like a trap.”
Her jaw dropped. She got off him and climbed back into her farthingale. “It certainly does. You’re not the dullest bulb on that chandelier, either.” “Middle range,” he agreed with a wan smile. “So maybe we should avoid the trap by not getting together, much as I hate letting you go.”
“No, I prefer to spring the trap and find out what this is all about.” She faced the TV. “I hereby choose this man to be my slavemaster for the year.” “I’m not sure this is smart,” Micro said. “You have chosen,” the TV announcer said. “Now for your honeymoon
in Eden.” Veil was about to say something else, but there was a hiss of gas, and everything changed.
Part 3: Honeymoon
Chapter 15—Eden
Prior looked around. He was standing in a lush garden replete with flow ers, berries, fruits, and nuts. Before him stood Veil, head still hidden in a blob of darkness but otherwise quite naked, holding her baby.
That remained a point of difficulty. He had never dreamed that his ideal woman, if she existed at all, would be a mother. That meant that some other man had had at her first, and there had been enough of a relationship to produce a child. Was that man still around? She acted as if she were free, but it was a question that needed an answer.
“The Garden of Eden,” Veil remarked. “It seems we are honeymooning as Adam and Eve.”
The TV set had spoken of Eden. Obviously this was it. They must have had to clear out the Tower to make room for the next week’s Maiden, who would be similarly put on display to attract contestants. He hadn’t realized that there would be an interim setting. “I guess so. So we can get to know each other privately.”
“With our privates showing,” she agreed. She looked around. “Well, I chose you, so now it’s time to deliver. Let me find a place to put Chance down, and I’m yours.”
“I told you, I don’t believe in slavery.” But his penis thickened, desiring its lodging. He had intended to change to the Spire, but the immediate transition to the interview in the tower had prevented that. He still had Normal on, the nondescript standard model, while the Spire remained in his colon. That gave him considerably less control. Oubliette had told him to touch the Maiden with the Spire, to make her desire him; he hadn’t been able to do that, but had lucked out when she chose him anyway. But if she was really his ideal woman, he didn’t want to alienate her by making her a fucking object before she was interested. “Are you sure?” she asked, glancing meaningfully at his lifting member. “I wish I had a fig leaf!”
She laughed, and her breasts quivered in a way that hastened his erec tion. “Let me see if I have this straight: your spirit is trying to be decent, but your flesh is rampant.”
“That’s it,” he agreed. He looked around. “Maybe there are some fig leafs, or the equivalent, that we can use to make skirts.” But he saw none.
“There are two ways to handle this,” Veil said. “Discharge your member, or ignore it.”
“I can’t ignore it.” His way-too-obvious erection was an acute embar rassment, but it refused to subside.
“Then let’s discharge it.” She considered briefly. “I am not entirely igno rant of the ways of men, obviously.” She glanced at her baby, who was now sleeping in a bed of leaves she had fashioned while talking. “A penis may be discharged by penetration or manipulation. Penetrable orifices are vagina, mouth, and anus.” “Uh, no. I said not unless you want it.” “Manipulation it is,” she said. She dropped to her knees before him,
took his penis in her hand, and squeezed it. Before he knew it, his seed was jetting in an arc through the air, spurt by spurt. She had made it respond in a way he never had, knowing exactly where and how to press. “You’ve done this before,” he said, amazed.
She shrugged as she returned to her feet. “So it seems. Next time it rises, I will abate it another way, if you prefer. The choice is yours.” “Uh, thanks,” he said, embarrassed. “But I will say that I appreciate your courtesy in not pressing the issue
despite your right to do so.” His feelings were mixed. He was glad that she hadn’t freaked out at sight of his involuntary erection, sorry that she hadn’t wanted sex, glad that she had found a way to alleviate the condition, sorry that he had wasted his sperm on the ground, and glad that he had deviously pleased her. She was, it was turning out, some woman.
“I guess we’d better look around,” he said. “Find a way out of here, maybe.” “I suspect there will be no convenient egress.” “I guess we’re here to—to get to know each other better. As it was with
the real Adam and Eve.” “To be sure. I wonder whether there is a forbidden tree.” “Forbidden?” “One that bears the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.” “Oh. Yes. I guess there could be. Maybe we’ll have to eat of it to get out
of here.” “Or to be cast out.” “Whatever. Let’s look.”
Veil picked up her baby and they browsed through the garden. They sampled the fruit, which seemed to be of every kind, all of it remarkably and tasty. They need never go hungry here.
But soon after eating, Prior found his erection forming again. Veil, too, seemed antsy. “I believe this fruit has aphrodisiac properties,” she said. “You too? I guess they meant it when they said honeymoon.” “You still prefer to avoid copulation?�
�� “I guess I look like a liar, with my dick rising. But I don’t want it unless
you do.” “The desire is upon me, but I confess I prefer to avoid it at this time, simply because I would prefer to know you better. A man can indulge in sex at any time, with any available woman, but a woman prefers to have more of a relationship.” “So you’re in the same fix I’m in. Your flesh is rampant.” “Correct. We are in this together. Shall we do the honors for each other?” “You sure made me spew in a hurry. But I don’t know how to do that for
you.” “I will show you.” She set the baby down again, sat on a convenient mossy
rock, leaned back, and spread her legs. “Wet your finger.” He looked around. “No water.” “With your mouth. Saliva is a fine lubricant.” Oh. He put his finger in his mouth, wetting it thoroughly. Then he kneeled and peered into her open crevice. The sight made his erection swell valiantly. “What now?” “Slide your finger along the channel to the end.” He put the tip in her cleft and slid down to her hole, poking into it. As the warm flesh surrounded his finger, she reached across, touched his penis, and made it geyser. She certainly had the touch. “Now the other direction,” she said. He drew his finger out and slid it to the other end of the channel. There was a small hooded knob there. “That is the clitoris,” she said. “Stroke it, very lightly.”
He did so, fascinated. First it swelled under his touch. Then she stiff ened, breathing faster, and her body quivered. Then she closed her legs on his hand, pinning his finger there, while she writhed with orgasmic pleasure. Her climax took longer than his, but seemed no less intense. “Kiss me,” she said. He moved his face to hers and kissed her mouth, finding it despite the blob of a hood. Her face seemed normal in that darkness. She met him with considerable passion. “That was good,” she said. “But maybe we shouldn’t eat more of the fruit.” “Until we get hungry? Let’s face it, as with the fart food, we’re stuck for it. Eat and abate; we’ll get by.”
The Magic Fart Page 13
