The Magic Fart

by Piers Anthony

  “You really wanted the fuck?” he asked as he grabbed again, with similar lack of effect. “You weren’t lying so as to stall me longer?”

  “Yes, actually. I knew it would not be feasible after our match was done, so it had to be at the outset. I thank you for a nice event. But now, alas, I must dispatch you.” She caught his ears and yanked his head down toward her crotch. Prior heard a fart. He yanked back, getting clear. “No you don’t, bitch!” “Yes I do, man thing. You can’t pin me, but I can pin you when you get tired.” She put her hands on his shoulders and leaped up in the manner of a cheerleader, her legs swinging forward. She caught his head between her plush thighs.

  He found himself staring into her open cleft, from which a driblet of his seminal fluid leaked. It was a fascinating view; the hole had not yet quite recovered from the stretching he had given it. By similar token, his face was close to her cutely puckered rectum, which now loosened enough to blow out a small but potent fart.

  Danger! He held his breath, put his two hands on her knees, and pried them apart. They dematerialized—but that cost them their purchase on him, and she fell down, barely righting herself before hitting the floor.

  “Nice ploy, man thing. You made me waste a good fart. But I’ll get you in the end, ha-ha.”

  Meanwhile the toothy lizard was slowly biting down on Tantamount’s nipple. He had to finish this soon.

  He grabbed her again, and his hands passed through her again. It looked as if he were punching through her breast and out her back, then hooking down to goose her bottom from the inside. Meanwhile she was maneuvering to get that bottom into his face again.

  She tripped him. Surprised again, he fell backward to the ground. She leaped on him, her breasts on his crotch, her thighs parting to frame his head. He saw her rectum loosen; she was about to fart, and this time she had him more securely pinned. Because wherever he tried to push her off, she had no substance. She was solid only where she chose to be, and that was in her ass.

  Spire, I’m in trouble , he thought.

  GOT IT, the Spire gouted. It let out a windy fart. The demoness held her breath; Prior felt her soft breasts stop heaving against his belly. But this wasn’t the final fart; it was a fixative fart, nullifying her ability to spot dematerialize. Then Prior put his hands on her legs, pushed her over, and got out from under. Quickly he squatted by her now-upturned face and issued the coup-de-fart.

  She was still holding her breath. There was a slight wind; it was likely to dissipate the gas before she breathed it. So he put his fingers on her ribs below her breasts and tickled.

  “Eeeek!” she giggled, then took a breath, perforce—and popped out of existence.

  Prior stood, relieved yet paradoxically also saddened by his victory. The demoness could have been a lot of fun, had she not been his enemy.

  He went over to Tantamount. The lizard’s teeth were just starting to prick the flesh of her breast and nipple. He reached for it.

  “Don’t touch it!” she said. “It’s primed to chomp hard when touched. That’s why I didn’t dare.” He pondered briefly. “Get down,” he said. “I’ll have to fart it off.” She sat on the ground. He aimed his rear at her breast. “Hold your breath.”

  Then the Spire let fly with a small addendum. The lizard dropped off, stunned. “Oh, Prior!” Tantamount said. “Thank you!” He laughed. “I fart on you, and you thank me.” “And now I’ll kiss you.” She stood, stepped into his arms, raised her

  face—and disappeared. “Tomorrow at noon,” the Third Branch said grimly.

  Chapter 24— Third Branch

  The Third Branch demon was huge and muscular, but his penis was oddly stubby. “Now what am I going to do with you, cutie mortal, all night while I contemplate my vengeance on your puny man?”

  “I suspect you already know,” Tantamount said with resignation. They were in his apartment, which was relatively spare; evidently this demon wasn’t much for residential comforts. She was holding Chance, and knew that again her baby was hostage to her performance. “I’ll fuck you, of course. You have never had a phallus like mine before.” “I haven’t seen one like yours before,” she said. “On a humanoid.” She

  refrained from mentioning animals. He laughed, not at all insulted, and his stubby member jiggled in and

  out. “Then I will demonstrate. Bend over so I can get at your hair-pie.” She thought of resisting, but knew he would have his way with her regardless. Her recent experience with the demoness had shown her that it was possible to get along with these beings, if she was careful. Sex was nothing, really; she was fully experienced there, especially recently. She turned her back to him and bent forward, presenting her bottom as she glanced back at him.

  The demon put forth a gnarled thumb and poked her vulva. “A bit small, but it will do for now.” Then he brought his penis around and lo, it telescoped in the manner of a stallion, becoming much larger. He put the tip to her crevice, slid it up and down a couple of times, then set it at her vagina and pushed. It was now larger in diameter than her orifice, but that didn’t bother the demon; he simply shoved it in, dilating the opening. The member was still expanding, forcing her tube to expand too. This was, she thought, like birthing a baby, only in reverse, taking an oversized object in.

  Then he came, and his hot fluid pressured into her, distending her even more. A baby wasn’t the proper analogy, she realized; a fire hose was. It squeezed out around the member and dripped to the floor.

  He let it soak a moment more, then withdrew it. “Like that,” he said. “Every half hour or so should do it. I haven’t had a mortal woman in a long time; I have some catching up to do.”

  “I should think you would want to rest, so as to be fit for your duel tomorrow.” “This is how I relax, babe. That and flying.” “Flying? You have a magic carpet too?” He laughed again. “Come here, honey cunt, you and your tyke. I will

  make another demonstration.” “That isn’t necessary.” “But I enjoy it.” He reached out and drew her in. He turned her around so that she faced away from him, his brawny arms around her waist. A thick strap appeared, which he passed down between her legs and up behind her and fastened somewhere.

  There was a roaring sound, a gust of wind, and a peculiar odor. Then the demon lifted her, carrying her with him as he leaped toward the ceiling. No, he was flying up, somehow propelled. The strap between her legs jerked taut; she fidgeted, getting it less uncomfortable.

  They flew out through a window in the ceiling, then rose above the castle. The roaring sound continued. She looked nervously around. She saw a jet of flaming gas below them; the demon must be wearing a power jet.

  No, the flame was issuing from between his legs. From his rectum! This was a phenomenal extended fart! “You are jet propelled,” she said. “That I am, luscious tush. Want to know how this came about?” Actually, she did; she had never imagined something like this. “Yes. It seems to be contrary to ordinary physics. The human system can generate only so much gas at a time; nothing on this order.”

  “Humans are puny. I am a demon. I am not bound by mortal limita tions.”

  The castle was now far below. “Of course,” she agreed quickly. “How foolish of me to forget. You are more than human.” She was flattering him; dialogue was cheap.

  “I was not always thus,” he said expansively. “For most of my existence I had no asshole at all.” “Is that possible?” she asked, evincing girlish wonder. “We golems craft our own bodies, to a considerable extent. But once they are set, they are difficult to modify. Second Branch made her cunt too small, and was stuck with it. I forgot to include an asshole. That didn’t matter, as I didn’t eat, so had nothing to shit. In fact it was an advantage—until that

  turd Prior Gross showed up.” “Prior Gross,” she echoed dutifully. “You have a history with him?” “He raided the Cherry Tree to steal the Spire, the Cosmic Dildo. We

  defended it from such mortal molestation, but he cheated.” “Cheated? How can that be?” “T
he rule of combat, there, was fuck or be fucked. I was about to fuck him in the ass, but first I thought I’d bite off his stupid phallus. I put my face there—and he fucked me in the nose.” “The nose!” “The left nostril. He rammed it up there and shot off his wad before I

  could even sneeze. All because I had no asshole. What a humiliation!” “I can imagine,” Tantamount said, suppressing laughter. “So when I reconstituted this time, in Fartingale, I fixed that omission. I reamed out an ass like no other hole, and backed it up with a gut that could generate a virtual hurricane. And lo, I could fly!” He swooped around dizzyingly, carrying her and Chance along. “Magic gas,” she said. “How brilliant.” “You trying to false-flatter me, mortal piece of ass?” She gambled on the truth. “Yes.” “I like it. Sure, I know you’d rather see me farted to oblivion, but you’re one appealing cunt and I’m satisfied with your game. So keep on playing it and we’ll get along.”

  In due course he brought her back to her chamber in the castle. “Now am I going to have to torture you to make your boyfriend fight?” “No,” she said quickly. “I will play the game.” “Okay. Give me another fast fuck.” She bent over, holding Chance, and he rammed into her vagina again, overflowing it with cream. It was less uncomfortable this time; either she was getting adapted, or he was less forceful. Then he disappeared, leaving her to clean up and forage for food.

  But true to his word, in half an hour he was back. Wordlessly she bared her bottom and bent over, accepting his fornication. This continued through the night, but she was able to sleep between times. Certainly it was better than being tortured.

  In the morning she fixed herself breakfast, pausing to take the demon’s equine member in again, washed, nursed Chance, and accepted another wash of semen from the demon. It had become a familiar routine she worked around, and not difficult considering that that was all he demanded.

  By noon she had been breached ten more times; the demon was inde fatigable on his schedule. Other than that he was tolerant and even generous; she had whatever she requested for herself and Chance. It really was no worse than it would have been with the hyper-sexed human contestant. “You’re a good sport,” the demon told her at noon as his foaming member slid out of her overflowing vagina. “No evasion, no fussing, and you pretend you like me. You are also quite pretty for a mortal.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she nursed Chance, who was on a roughly similar schedule.

  He touched her with his hand, and suddenly they were outside the castle, facing Prior. “Are you going to fight me, man thing, or do I have to ram the guts out of your woman?” The demon swung his telescoping member around toward Tantamount, who obligingly flinched. “I’ll fight,” Prior said grimly. They stepped into the pentagram and grappled. The demon was bigger and stronger, and in a moment he had Prior down and pinned. He oriented his rear on Prior’s face and let out a blast that practically vaporized the man’s head. Tantamount screamed.

  But when the smog cleared, Prior was still lying there, unscathed. He stuck out his tongue at the demon.

  Bewildered, the demon turned around, brought his ugly visage close to Prior’s head, and peered into his face. “How come you’re still breathing, man thing?”

  “Because that isn’t really my face,” Prior’s voice came from the vicinity of his crotch. “Huh?” “It’s my posterior. I let out an illusion fart to change my seeming orien

  tation. You farted at my ass, idiot.” “Oh, no!” The demon jerked back, but too late; Prior’s fart caught him in the mouth and nose and he breathed it all in before he got clear. He vanished.

  Tantamount ran gladly to hug Prior. But a dusky, sultry, shapely greenish demoness appeared between them. “Tomorrow at noon,” she told Prior.

  Then Tantamount found herself in the suite of the Fourth Branch, fac ing a tigress.

  Chapter 25— Fourth Branch

  Prior stared at the castle that was now just two branches high. On the new ground level was a chamber whose walls were transparent, like those of the Maid-in-Tower tower, and inside was Tantamount facing a tigress.

  The animal advanced on her, snarling. Tantamount retreated, backed into the bed, and fell on it as the tiger pounced. She held Chance protectively to her bosom and tried to kick the animal away with her legs. But the tiger wedged its head between them and gaped its jaws to take a huge bite of her crotch. Then, as Tantamount screamed, the tiger’s tongue came out instead and slurpingly licked her vulva.

  The tiger’s head turned toward Prior and nodded as the walls turned opaque. He knew what it meant: the Fourth Branch was a shape changer, and was toying with Tantamount so that Prior could see. If he did not show up for the fight tomorrow, that crotch bite could readily become real.

  “I’ll be there, never fear,” he said, and turned away. He had defeated the demoness before by getting a good hold on her and hanging on while she madly shifted shapes. He had gotten his penis into her slit, but then she had turned frigidly cold, cooling his necessary ardor. He had prevailed only by a trick: he had faked an orgasm and pissed into her, pretending it was semen. Obviously that wouldn’t work again, despite his recent practice pissing into another woman.

  “So how am I going to take her this time?” he asked the Spire as he walked to the local inn where he had farted for room and board.

  IMMUNITY, the Spire gouted, and explained. It seemed feasible. The innkeeper met him at the door. “No more contests,” he said. “You’ve proved you can fart anyone else under the table. Give me something I can use, you goldbricker.” That gave Prior an idea. “I’ll give you a real gold brick,” he said. “Put out

  your hands.” He turned around and dropped his pantaloons. “You’re going to shit in my hands?” the innkeeper demanded, outraged. “I’m going to shit a gold brick,” Prior said. “If you don’t want it, someone

  else surely will.” He oriented his bottom. Spire, do your stuff. The Spire did. From it, seemingly from Prior’s anus, issued a golden colored

  mass. It was a moderate turd—of solid solidifying gold. “Will that do?” he inquired as he covered his ass. The innkeeper stared at the mass in his hands. He could tell by its heft

  that it really was gold. “Oh, yes, for the next month!” He hurried away. Prior ate and rested well. In the morning he repaired to the castle ahead

  of time. Tantamount came out to meet him, dressed in a slinky gown rather than the standard farthingale. He much preferred it, and not just because it showed her figure off to advantage. “Oh, Prior, she said, rushing into his embrace and kissing him. “It was awful! She changed into a tigress and threatened me!” “And licked your vulva,” he said. “You know?” she asked amazed. “She kept the walls translucent so I could see. She wasn’t threatening

  you so much as warning me.” “Oh, of course.” “How come you’re out here alone?” “Believe me, she’s watching. She knows I can’t escape; she’s got Chance.” That figured. Tantamount would not go anywhere without her—their— baby. So the branch knew it was safe to let her out for a while. Yet it seemed unusually generous of the demoness to give him even this much joy of the woman he loved. What was she planning?

  Still, whatever the catch, he was glad of it. “She didn’t—do anything to you?”

  “No, just frightened me. Actually none of them have been really bad, except maybe the First Branch, who let me think I was escaping.” Her body moved seductively against him. “How could you think that?” He stroked her shapely bottom. “He let me sneak out and steal a magic carpet. I flew to your friend Smellie in Nude-on-Toilet, and she agreed to help me. Then it turned out the carpet was the demon; I had not escaped at all. He made me sit on his spike all the way back.” “His spike?” “His big phallus formed in the center of the carpet and penetrated me. I

  had no choice. So I nursed Chance. The demon called it suck and fuck.” “Oh.” He hated to admit it, even to himself, but that sounded sort of sexy.

  “The Second Branch was actually nice to me. The Third Branch de
manded sex every half hour, but apart from that he left me alone. The Fourth Branch left me alone, after that first scare. We had an interesting dialogue, and I learned some things. The door was open when you came, so I came out to meet you. But she couldn’t let Chance come with me.”

  Prior nodded. “I can’t figure why she’s letting us have this time together. There’s bound to be a catch.”

  “I think she wants me to distract you so you aren’t properly prepared for your encounter with her.”

  Prior looked at the watch he had won in a farting match. The hands looked like penises, and the numbers were the spread legs of eager women. “We still have five minutes until noon. Is it okay to—?”

  “Yes, Prior, yes!” she breathed, melting against him. Then she tugged him to a soft section of the ground and drew him down with her.

  He had her skirt up and his eager member in her without delay. She kissed him, facilitating it. She was hot and slick, completely ready for his entry. “Oh, Tantamount!” he said as his passion surged. “Oh, Prior!” She wrapped her bare legs around him, clasping him close. He thrust, and thrust again, climaxing powerfully, and she spasmed with

  him. Then, as the last of his semen flowed, she wrapped her arms around him, tightened her legs, and suddenly squeezed him so tight that the gas in his colon ripped out in a loud fart. “What?” he gasped, surprised. “Got you, lover,” she said, and morphed into the demoness. “It was you all the time!” he exclaimed, dismayed. “Yes, idiot. And now you have no fart for me.” She disconnected, slid out from under him, spun in place, spread her legs, and let fly a deadly fart to his face.

  Prior’s gaze went blank as his body went limp. She had caught him right when he was inhaling.

  “You thought I would just let your wench out to give you joy? You should have looked that gift ass in the mouth.” She peered at him. “You’re down but not out; I’ll have to finish the job.” She got to her feet, straddled him, squatted right over his face, and let a second fart directly into his mouth.