The Magic Fart (2 page)

is smart.” Her eyes filled again. “You think I’m repulsive!” “No, you’re not!” Indeed, her figure under her dress was robust, with

her breasts swelling eagerly. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Gross! Tell me what to do.” “You really want this? Sex with me?” “With all my heart!” Indeed, her pulse was showing in her neck, making

her breasts quiver under the tight nightie. “In that case, all right,” he said with enthusiasm. “First, take off your

clothes and lie on the bed.” Her remaining clothing vanished as she appeared on the bed, one bare

leg lifted. “Like this?” “Exactly like that,” he agreed, scrambling out of his own clothing. He

got on the bed beside her. “Now first I’ll kiss you.” “Like this?” she asked, suddenly up against him full length, her lips press

ing against his. “Close enough,” he agreed. “Next, I’ll stroke your breasts.” “Oh, yes,” she agreed, catching his hand and guiding it to her warm full

bosom. “Right. Finally, I’ll—” “Put on a condom.” He paused. “What?” “A condom. Don’t you know why?” He hardly paused for reflection. He did know why, and it wasn’t for any reason anyone else would understand. “Um, yes.” He began to get off the bed, when a condom appeared in his hand. Oh, of course. He put it to his stiff penis, and it spread itself over it to the base. He got above her. “Now spread your legs.” She spread them, lifted them, and wrapped them around his hips. “Like

this?” “It will do.” He angled his sheathed member, guiding it down into her open vulva. She lifted her bottom to meet him, and in a moment he was deep inside her and pumping furiously. The condom masked the sensation somewhat, so he had to work harder to get there.

“Don’t forget the rest,” she said, reaching up to catch his head and bring it down to her face. She tongued him in time with his thrusts, and her vagina squeezed his member rhythmically.

He came with rare power, wondering whether it was possible to blow out a condom by the force of ejaculation. That was probably just a male conceit, but it was the way it felt.

“Oh!” she gasped, milking him with her cleft. “Great! You really showed me how.”

He hadn’t shown her anything, but it had nevertheless been great, as she said. He collapsed on her resilient breasts, letting her strip the rest of his semen from his system. “Yeah.” “When did you catch on?” He played the game a moment more. “Catch on to what, Suzie?” She laughed. “You know I’m demonic, and not capable of caring much about any mortal. But I think I care for you, Prior. You treat me like a real person, and you play the game. But I know I made some mistakes. What was the first?”

“Your clothing. First you were in a female suit, then a dress, then a nightie, then nothing. Without having to do any of it by hand.” He withdrew from her and lay on his back. “I got carried away by the role,” she agreed. “Was that all?” “Apart from the fact that no woman or girl is that hot for me, you were too proficient. You would have been better with a hymen and some awkwardness.”

She sighed. “My nature defeats me. But I’ll keep working on it. I was afraid it was the condom.”

“No, sensible girls do prefer it, so they won’t get pregnant or catch a disease. They don’t realize that my smegma cures all venereal diseases, even AIDS. Of course when you conjured it right into my hand and it put itself on me, that would have been a giveaway.”

“I just couldn’t wait any longer. I had to have your delicious little peg in me. I’d rather have skipped the condom, but then I’d have had to change to incubus form and find a woman to screw.”

“I understand,” he agreed, removing the condom. “This enables you to remain female longer. Do you want this?”

“Of course I want it!” She took it from his hand. “Just not in me, yet. I’ll save it for another load. Tonight I mean to get more from you.” “Welcome to stay the night.” “I’ll try. But I’ll probably get too eager, and take a load direct, and then

I’ll have to go.” “It’s your nature,” he agreed tolerantly. The succubus had first approached him one day on the beach, seduced him, and discovered that his smegma had anti-venereal disease powers. She had introduced him to Tantamount Emdee, a lovely female doctor who had seduced him, drugged him, and stolen his penis for research. That had been the real start of his adventure: to get his natural penis back. Since then she had dropped by occasionally, to pick up a load, as she called it, and sometimes to talk. So they had become friends in a fashion, or at least lovers of convenience. It wasn’t as if he had any better use for his semen, and she could be a most evocative sexual partner when she tried.

She put her hand on his penis, giving it an exploratory squeeze. “By the way, I have a message for you.” “Oh? Why didn’t you just tell me?” “And miss a fine fuck? What do you take me for?” And of course the fuck was everything, for a succubus. “What mes

sage?” “It’s about your ideal woman.” He laughed. “I thought
you
were my ideal woman.” She rolled into him and kissed him. “You’re sweet. I don’t get much of that. No, this is the one you are destined to love, marry, and raise a dull family with.”

“I’d love that. But I don’t even have a girlfriend. Girls just laugh at my little member.” “3.97 inches erect,” she agreed. “But you can put on any size you want.” “But they’re all artificial. I prefer to stick with my original.” She gave it a tweak, and it started to come to life. “Can’t blame you. It’s

a little darling. And that smegma is something else.” “So how can my ideal woman have a message for me, considering I don’t have any woman?” “Oh, the message isn’t
from
her. It’s
about
her.” She kneaded his penis.

“But first let’s see some more action here.” His curiosity had been aroused more than his member. “First tell me

about this woman.” “No, first give me a load.” “I’m spent, remember? Tell me.” “Maybe some variety,” she said. She turned her back to him. “Put it in

my ass.” “You’re a demon. You don’t necessarily have a rectum.” “I’ll make one for the occasion.” She nudged her plush buttocks against

him. “Come on; it’s tight and hot. Shove it in there.” Prior was tempted. He had never had that kind of sex with a woman who desired it, and wondered what it was like. Of course Suzie wasn’t exactly a woman, but she could certainly pass for one. Still, he didn’t want to be distracted from her tantalizing message. “Compromise,” he suggested. “I’ll put it in while you tell me.” “Done.” She wiggled her bottom encouragingly. She was right: variety was stimulating. His member had stiffened again. He took it in his hand and guided it to her nether crack, finding the pucker there. He pushed, making a dent. And paused.

The succubus got the hint. “She was abducted and shanghaied to Fartingale.” He poked the head of his penis in a fraction. “Farthingale?” “Well, they do wear them there, but that’s not it. It’s fart-in-gale.” He laughed, and that made his member pound farther into her tight

aperture. “That’s a place? What do they do there, fart?” “Yes. And she’s a woman of fine sensitivities, so you’d better go rescue her before she expires of embarrassment. As a matter of fact, there’s a time limit; you have to do it within one week, or lose her.”

Jokes could be dangerous when they turned literal. “So where is this smelly place?”

She pushed her rear at him, taking him all the way into her as her nether cheeks flattened against his groin. Her rectum felt pretty much like her vagina, which it probably was; she had merely tightened it up and faked it. It hardly mattered at this point; she had hold of him and wouldn’t let go until she had his ejaculation. That, again, was her nature.

But he held back, knowing that the moment she got the ejaculate she would depart, converting to incubus so as to seduce some hapless maiden. That, too, was her nature. He needed to get the information first.

“So how can I find this land, and find her? I don’t even know her name.” Because the idea had really taken hold of him. To rescue his ideal woman! She would surely be most grateful. Her channel massaged his member, evoking its urgency. “The Eeg-trail leads to it. She’s called the Prize Maiden in the Tower. Something like that. She’ll be easy to find.”

The Eeg-trail. He had taken that to get to Mt. Icecream. “You sure? I never found a place like that.”

“It leads where’re you’re going, if the statues help. That’s all I know.” Now her bowel writhed peristaltically, forcing his orgasm.

He gave up his resistance and went to it with a will, withdrawing and thrusting, jetting his essence into her chamber. The feeling was intense despite coming so soon after his first effort.

“Ooo, that’s good,” she said. He knew she could literally taste the ejacu late. “Now get going on your mission, lover.”

“My e-mission,” he agreed, satisfied. He knew nothing about the woman, but was halfway smitten already.

Chapter 2—Fartingale

She found herself sitting on a floor, naked, holding her son protectively. Where was she? What had happened? The last she remembered, a strange man had knocked at her door while she was nursing her baby. Impatient to get rid of him, she had opened the door and told him: “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any.”

“I have come to take you away from all this,” he said. He was short, fat, homely, half bald, and oddly garbed in pleated pantaloons.

“Well, you can just take yourself away. I’m not interested.” She started to close the door.

The man turned around as if to depart. Then he bent forward, present ing his posterior to her. She realized with disgust that the pleats in his pants were actually strips of nothing; his pale bulging buttocks could be seen between them. There was a swishing sound, and the pleats fluttered.

Her mouth fell open in astonishment. The jerk was breaking wind at her!

Then a hideous odor assaulted her like a noxious cloud. She took a breath to protest, inadvertently inhaling the gas.

Now, suddenly, she was here. She had been gassed into unconsciousness by a rude crepitation and abducted. Now she was—where?

She looked around. She was in a chamber with curving reflective sides, so that she saw distortions of her body in floor, walls, and ceiling. This was like a glass lined cave, certainly an oddity. Why would anyone want to put her in a place like this?

She pondered why. She had been abducted. The man hadn’t asked her identity; he had simply come to her door and gassed her. It was possible that this was a random act; some terrorist organization needed a hostage and took the first that offered. Perhaps the first shapely woman that offered, at any rate; there was no guessing how many doors the man had knocked on before reaching hers. Was her identity known? It could have been garnered from her address or her papers, but for now she would assume that it wasn’t. Therefore she would do her best to remain anonymous, not even thinking of her identity, so that no ransom message could be sent to her family. It was a thin chance, but possible. So perhaps if she seemed to be of no value to her captor, he would in due course let her go. Meanwhile he had dumped her here in this unusual cave, out of sight.

She would be better off if she could escape before he returned. Of course she would be an obvious target naked; she had to find clothing. It was surely too much to hope that any had been left here, but at least she could look.

She got up, carrying her baby Chance, so named because she had con ceived him by no planning on her part. He remained asleep, perhaps affected by the same gas that had knocked her out, but was breathing normally. That was just as well, as she didn’t want to alarm him. He was only three months old; the alarming aspects of life were best postponed until he was better able to handle them.

Now she got a better look at her reflection, and paused with surprise. It looked as if she were wearing a hood over her head, that completely covered it. Of course that wasn’t the case. She touched her face with her hand; there was no barrier there. Yet in the reflection her hand disappeared into a dark globe. Somehow there was the appearance of a comprehensive hood, as if her head were in a bag that concealed her face and hair, without any substance actually being there. How could this be accounted for?

Then she realized that the hood that veiled her face was illusion, and therefore probably magic. She had had little direct contact with magic, but had no doubt of its power. She had been magically hooded, to conceal her identity. That added a dimension to her predicament.

The chamber narrowed into a closure somewhat like a sphincter. In fact this seemed a lot like a huge bowel or intestine, and that could be its exit: the anus. Uncomfortable image. She turned away from it and explored the other direction. The cave twisted around and back on itself, narrowing and expanding, forming another chamber. Here was a rack on which hung clothing: a blouse, and a centuries out of date skirt, extended into a bell shape by a framework of hoops. And a pair of glassy slippers below.

She was supposed to wear this weird outfit? It seemed she had no choice, though whoever had set it out must have been a man, because the underwear had been forgotten. She really could have used it, because her pregnancy and nursing had made her a full-breasted woman, and the spreading skirt provided no protection from below.

She laid Chance carefully down, and donned the clothing, which fit well enough. The slippers were comfortable, but the skirt was like wearing a barrel: she couldn’t sit or lie down in it, or even get too close to a wall. Both blouse and skirt were made of the same glassy material as the slippers, flexible, comfortable, but translucent. She would hardly care to appear in public in such an outfit. Which was perhaps the point; she would be a marked woman the moment she departed this intestinal residence. She was stuck with it, for now.