Eroma

by Piers Anthony

  “Yes,” she agreed, relaxing further.

  “Now I must go for the orgasm. That means thrusting.”

  “Thrust,” she agreed. Her eyes were locked on the juncture of their bodies, where penis entered vagina. She had become fascinated with the sexual process, which she had never seen before. “I’m feeling—urgent.”

  He thrust. The tip of his penis came up against her cervix.

  Then the orgasm came upon them both. His body shook as it took him, and so did hers. For thirty seconds they were locked in its ecstasy, kissing madly.

  Then it was done, and both of them relaxed. Pedro got off her and lay beside her, taking her hand. “You did well.”

  “What happened?” she asked, amazed.

  “Oh, the orgasm? That’s part of the avatar programming. When the penis pushes against the cervix, which is a kind of switch in an avatar, it triggers an electric stimulation that puts both parties into instant orgasm. It lasts until the trait transfers are made, then abates. It doesn’t work exactly that way in real life, but this is what you can expect in the game. For your next exchange, all you have to do is get his member deep enough into your vagina to make that contact, and it will happen. Then you are through with him.”

  “Am I through with you?” she asked somewhat plaintively.

  “I’m afraid you are. We both need to exchange with other players, as often as we can. There would be little point in us exchanging again.”

  “Where is the exchange? I don’t see or feel any difference.”

  “It takes about fifteen minutes to manifest. That’s also the recharge time, so you can do it again. You’ll have Magic and I’ll have Arts. And I’ll have half of Magic, and you’ll have half of Arts.”

  “But if I can’t see or feel them, how do I know they’re really there?”

  “Good point. We had better stay together long enough to verify that the process is working.” He didn’t mind staying with her longer. He liked her.

  “I don’t want to hold you up in your quest for more traits,” she said.

  “It occurs to me that verification is important, this first time. Hereafter, we can operate on faith.”

  “But I really shouldn’t—”

  He rolled over, lifted his upper section, and kissed her. She flung her arms about him, pulling him closer. She really did want his company. He understood it was because he was her first sexual participation and first acquaintance in the game. He had given her a good experience. Still, it was flattering. He held her and continued kissing her. He was getting something himself; this was like making real love, and he liked that.

  After a little while she drew back slightly. “If you want the other,” she said, presenting her breasts.

  She was trying to vamp him, to make him stay. Yet he was not loath. He slid down and kissed her breasts. He rolled her over on top of him and put his hands on her buttocks. “Men like this too,” he said, squeezing.

  “I’ll remember!” She kissed him again.

  “But if we continue this way, we’ll want sex again, and will half waste an exchange.”

  She tensed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Oh, hell, it wouldn’t be disaster. Meanwhile, let’s explore our traits. They should be developing.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “You should be getting Magic. That means things like telekinesis, telepathy, clairvoyance, illusion, levitation, pyrokinesis. I should be getting Arts. That means singing, dancing, painting, writing, all the creative artistic things. We should be able to do a little already.”

  “How do we do them?”

  Pedro considered. “I was never much in the arts, so if I can do anything at all, it means it is happening. Let me see if I can sing.”

  “I like singing.”

  “Any talent you have in real life doesn’t apply here. You won’t be able to sing.”

  “Wouldn’t training or experience count for something?”

  “I suppose it would. Maybe we’re not complete blanks. But the exchanges will add new abilities or qualities to those you may already possess.”

  She took a breath and opened her mouth. She sang a few notes. They were off-key and sour. “Ugh!” she said.

  Pedro tried it, still holding her and feeling her bottom. “Alas my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously,” he sang, trying the beginning of “Greensleeves.” It wasn’t great, but it was better than he had ever managed before in life. “I believe it’s working,” he said. “It should get better soon. You should try something magical.”

  “Try what?”

  “Oh, maybe illusion. Can you make something appear that isn’t really there?”

  “I’ll try.” She concentrated. Nothing seemed to happen. Then he reacted. Her buttocks seemed to have become larger, softer, and sexier.

  “Are you enhancing your ass?” he asked, bemused.

  “Yes. Trying to make it feel moreso.”

  “You are succeeding!”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “The hell I am. You suddenly have a most evocative posterior. You made an illusion of feel, which is something I hadn’t thought of. But if you still doubt, we can prove the magic. Try making something visible, that we can both see, like a face in the air.”

  “Yes.” She focused again. Her bottom lost its plushness. A ghostly face appeared behind her head, where he could see it.

  “You've got it,” he said, excited. “Look and see.”

  She did not turn her head. Instead the face slid around to the side so that she could see it. “Oh!” she exclaimed, pleased.

  “When you did that, your rear reverted to ordinary. That suggests you can do only one act of magic at a time. Still, it could be quite useful.”

  “It could,” she agreed thoughtfully as the face faded.

  “You’ll need to practice, of course. No one is good at anything new immediately. Maybe you can work out some set bits, like a supple bottom, or a scary ghost face, or starting a fire, that you can do without delay when you need them.”

  “Yes.” She seemed to be concentrating, but nothing was evident.

  “What are you working on?”

  “Telepathy.”

  “Mind reading? That could be really useful.” Then he reconsidered. “Are you reading my mind?”

  “Yes, a little. But it’s complicated.”

  “I hope I’m not giving away my darkest secrets.”

  “No. I can get only the surface. You—you really like my—my ass. As it was with the feel illusion. And you halfway like me.”

  “I’m glad I wasn’t lying to you about that.”

  “You haven’t lied to me about anything.”

  “True. But I have to say that lying is part of the game. You can’t afford to believe anyone completely.” He paused, considering. “But yes, work on mind reading too, so that other players can’t lie to you. It could save your place in the game. But don’t let on that You’re doing it; just quietly act to protect yourself.”

  “I will,” she said.

  Pedro tried singing again. “Greensleeves was my delight! Greensleeves was all my joy.” This time it came out well. He was indeed singing.

  “It’s really working!” she said. “For both of us. I didn’t really believe it.”

  “Soon the traits will manifest fully,” he said. “But here’s a caution: don’t display any of your Magic if you can help it. I won’t show my Arts.”

  “But isn’t that the point? To get good traits?”

  “Yes and no. I have watched every Eroma game so far, and come to some conclusions how to play it well. The first round is always for defining the avatars. That’s what we’re doing now. But it’s seldom as simple as just collecting traits. The other players are watching, and they tend to gang up against anyone who looks too much like a winner. You want traits, but you don’t want them known, lest you be targeted and driven out.”

  “That’s mean,” she protested.

  “
It’s a mean game. Schemers are more likely to win than nice people. You want to try to come across as innocent, harmless, nice. A good friend who is no threat to anyone. A likely loser in the first round. You need to be able to scheme, and lie, and betray those who think you are their friend. That’s how you get ahead.”

  “I don’t like it!”

  Pedro nodded. She was either a true innocent, or an excellent actress. Either way, she could be a good ally, in some subsequent round, if she got there. He liked her, perhaps foolishly, and was trying to help her get there. “Let me modify that. You need to be able to recognize a schemer or liar, so you don’t get betrayed and washed out. Don’t be too quick to trust any player, male or female. Be cautious.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Keep your eyes open, because the next person you trust may betray you. And maybe most important, stay beneath the radar. Don’t call attention to yourself. Flashy players tend to be eliminated early.”

  “I still trust you.”

  “Fotina, we met coincidentally, colliding on converging paths. We could become fast friends or hated enemies. It’s no basis for trust.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “I need to trust someone. This is all so new, I wouldn’t get anywhere on my own. You are helping me so much. Please, say I can trust you.”

  Pedro found himself foolishly melting. He believed her. “You can trust me. Read my mind to verify that. But don’t trust anyone else.”

  “I will. I did. I won’t,” she promised. She kissed him fleetingly.

  “If we meet again, later in the game, we can try to help each other,” he said. “We can be like oath friends. No matter how we deal with others, we won’t betray each other.”

  “Yes!” she agreed gladly.

  “Meanwhile, we need to do some serious interaction with others. Only those with the most traits will make the cut. The top sixteen men, the top sixteen women.”

  “Half will lose?” she asked alarmed.

  “Half will be eliminated in this round, and again in the next, and in each round, until there’s a single winner.”

  “How do they get eliminated?”

  “Some will get eaten by monsters.” He saw her shocked reaction, and quickly clarified it. “That doesn’t mean they die. They just get washed out of the game. Of those who make it through this round, only the top scorers—those with the most acquired traits—will qualify for the next round.”

  “So I must do well in each round.”

  “Exactly. You need to be constantly on your toes.” He smiled. “And busy with your vagina.”

  “I’ll try,” she said bravely.

  “I wasn’t trying to be crude. This is a sex game. Everything is sexually determined. Careful management counts for a lot. Survey all the players you meet, noting what traits they offer and what traits they have acquired, to the extent feasible. Go for the traits more difficult to acquire, so you don’t get caught in a logjam later. But if there are easy takings, take them; efficiency is essential. Don’t be flashy, just quietly get the job done. Get the right men into you, any way you can.”

  “I will try.”

  “And use what you have, like sex appeal. If you exchange for appearance, you’ll have it in spades. But until then, use your magic. Men are fools for sexy girls, even in a game like this.”

  “I will fool them,” she agreed. “Thank you so much for your good advice.”

  “You’re welcome. I have enjoyed being with you.”

  “Yes!”

  Fotina kissed him again, passionately. Her whole body seemed fuller and sexier than before. That meant she was enhancing herself with illusion, and no longer reading his mind. That was perhaps just as well.

  She took his rising penis and fitted it into her vagina. She was learning rapidly on every front. She would be a good player. She plumped down on him, making the penetration complete. Tip touched cervix, completing the connection.

  They went into another joint orgasm, kissing avidly. It was as intense and wonderful as the first one.

  In due course they relaxed, still kissing. At last they disengaged. “Fotina, I think I love you a little,” he said.

  “And I love you. More than a little.”

  “But now we really must get on with the game, lest we both wash out. We can’t do each other any more good by exchanging, so I think we need to separate for the rest of this round.”

  “But we’ll meet again in the next, won’t we?”

  “I hope so.”

  They kissed once more, and then left the pavilion. Pedro hoped he was not being foolish to trust her. His warning to her applied to him also: there was no sufficient basis. Yet game friendships could endure, sometimes.

  They followed the side path to the main one, and walked on down to the main pavilion. Fotina gave him one last beseeching look as they separated, silently begging him to remember her. Then she was lost in the throng. Pedro somehow felt guilty, for no good reason.

  Now the names and traits were abundant. How should he proceed, to be most efficient? He needed to consider people, safety, and privacy. This early in the round, almost any partners would do for exchange; people were available in plenty, but not privacy. He knew that the moment any of them left the main premises, there would be danger. Perhaps he should start with the more difficult aspects.

  There should be privacy on the islands, because they could be reached only by the water, and the water would not be safe. Get to an island with a partner, and the rest would be easy. So why were the others merely milling around, wasting time?

  He walked down to the lake. There was a pier where several six-passenger boats were moored. The water rippled. He picked up a pebble and flipped it out into the lake. A serpentine head appeared, biting at the spot where the pebble fell. Just so. The challenge was getting safely to an island, when a lake serpent could readily chomp anything on a boat. Several players were looking at the water, daunted. A good half an hour must have been wasted in this befuddlement. These were mostly novice players, not sharp on the uptake. Fodder for early elimination.

  Pedro got smart. He stepped into a boat, untied it, and took a double-bladed paddle from its deck. He faced the pier and the players standing on it. “I need three women who can row and two men who can balance standing,” he announced.

  “Don’t you have that backwards?” a man asked. “Men should row.”

  “No. The men need to fight off monsters.”

  Some were confused, but some caught on. In a moment he had his complement. He assigned the three women to the three benches, with paddles, while he and the men stood beside them, also with paddles. “Row out toward the nearest island,” he told the women. “Defend them,” he told the men.

  The women oriented and started paddling, two on one side, one on the other. The boat wee-wawed, then steadied as they got coordinated. They moved slowly toward the island.

  A serpent head lifted from the water. Pedro was nearest to it. He used his paddle as a battering ram, poking the serpent in the snoot. Surprised, it submerged. “They’re not used to prey fighting back,” he said, satisfied. “Stay alert.”

  Another head appeared. The nearest man bopped it with his paddle, and it retreated. A third head rose, but dropped out of sight before a paddle could orient on it. Meanwhile the boat progressed.

  The players on shore, observing, soon sought to imitate Pedro’s strategy. But there were more than fifty of them, and only three remaining boats: enough for eighteen. Arguments broke out. Again, the amateurish nature of many contestants was torpedoing their chances.

  “You are a smart cookie,” the woman beside Pedro murmured. She was a fair Nordic whose nameplate said AILENE. “Let’s exchange.” Her talent was HEALTH/appearance

  “Gladly,” Pedro agreed. “First, we’ll have to assign sessions, so that all of us can exchange efficiently.”

  “Of course,” she agreed.

  Before long the boat reached the island, having intimidated the lake monsters. They were surely crafte
d for exactly such intimidation, so that clever boaters could pass. Pedro noted with satisfaction that only one other boat was on the way; somehow the competition for places had been settled to that extent. The other players were losing valuable time squabbling instead of organizing.

  Pedro took the lead again. “Each of us wants to exchange with each other eligible person,” he said. “That will be nine exchanges, total. We can do one couple every five minutes, alternating couples, and get all nine done within an hour. The order doesn’t matter; we won’t leave the island until all exchanges have been accomplished. Ailene and I will lead off. The rest of you decide on partners, and watch for danger.”

  “Lake serpents won’t come on land,” a man pointed out.

  “Other players might,” Pedro said. “We want to finish with it first.”

  The man nodded, understanding.

  Pedro led Ailene into the pavilion and closed the door. It was similar to the one where he had trysted with Fotina, but without any ghost. It seemed the lake monsters were considered enough of a challenge.

  No further words were said. They got on the bed, Ailene spread her legs, and Pedro, suddenly erect, got into her. He felt her cervix at the depth, and then they were in the orgasm. It lasted half a minute and faded. They got up.

  “Not even five minutes,” she said appreciatively.

  “Two, maybe.” He patted her bottom.

  “Don’t get fresh!” she snapped.

  “Apology,” he said, surprised.

  “Joke,” she said as they left the pavilion.

  He smiled, but was privately annoyed. She was nevertheless right: this was a business transaction, not a social one. Neither expressions of romance or sexuality were in order. His tryst with Fotina had spoiled him.

  The second couple was waiting as they exited. Pedro and Ailene took paddles and stood guard with the remaining couple.

  Meanwhile the second canoe approached the island.

  “Occupied,” Pedro called warningly.

  The lead woman on the boat smiled. She was Salina, Nubian, EMPATHY/intelligence. “We noticed. When You’re done, where will you go?”