Chapter 7—Oubliette

Prior woke early next morning, invigorated. He had taken a thorough shower and cleaned up, but forgotten to remove the Spire from his groin. “Did you facilitate my rest?” he inquired. YES, it gouted. YOU FACE A CHALLENGE BEYOND YOUR MEANS. IT WILL BE EASIER TO SAVE YOUR SORRY ANUS IF YOU ARE IN GOOD HEALTH. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.” YOU WILL NEED TO WEAR ME IN YOUR COLON, SO THAT YOUR FARTS SEEM

GENUINE. That did not appeal phenomenally. “Let’s wait until the time.” YOU MUST TAKE THE STATUE PATH. “But that’s three thousand miles away!” WHAT IS YOUR POINT? Prior sighed. He made the arrangements and shut down his house. He was fortunate in being able to catch a flight for the following day. He was afraid the Spire would want to seduce every woman they encountered along the way, but it, oddly, seemed as eager to get there as he was, and behaved.

In due course Prior arrived at the home/office of Oubliette Emdee, who had set him up with the socket and assorted prosthetic penises. It wasn’t her fault that he had had little use for them the past year, because of lack of a girlfriend.

It was late when he arrived, even allowing for the time change, but there was a light on at her house. He knocked on the door, hoping she would not be annoyed by the intrusion.

She recognized him instantly. “Prior Gross! So good to see you. How’s the plumbing?” She was as luscious and businesslike as ever, wearing a kneelength skirt and her halter formed from her own long tresses. That was a trick her sister Tantamount had had too. It was marvelous the way her fine breasts bobbed with the motions of her head. “Uh, yes,” he said, feeling awkward. I WANT HER.

Oh, no! The Spire had come to life. “What’s the matter, Prior?” she asked, concerned. “Is there a malfunction? Let me see.” She led him into the house and sat him on her patient’s table. “Not exactly,” he said. NOW. Meanwhile she was opening his fly. The Spire sprang out, its full length

standing tall. “You have the Spire!” Oubliette exclaimed, delighted. “Oh, I must sample

him!” “But I’m here on business,” Prior protested. “I need to walk the path.” “You can catch me up on everything while we share the Spire,” she said. She touched the tip with a finger, and was rewarded with a trace gout. “Set yourself on slow small pulses,” she said to it, and kissed the tip. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” She led Prior to a couch, pulled his pants off, drew her skirt down and off, and joined him on the cushions, expertly fitting her contours to his.

The Spire entered her immediately, sliding slowly into her deep vagina. It was a foot long, and broad at the base, so was more than any normal woman could handle. “Slowly dear, slowly,” she said to it. “I’ll accommodate.” And she did. The Spire penetrated a careful nine inches, then commenced slow pulsing as her interior gradually adapted to its expansive pressure. She intended to take it all in, but would have to stretch somewhat. Prior suspected there was some softening element in the gout substance that enabled her to take it in without discomfort.

The Spire pulsed, like the beating of a heart, sending out tiny gouts, and each pulse delivered a surge of bliss to Prior and surely to Oubliette too; he felt her channel matching the cadence. “Oh, you darling creature,” she breathed, still speaking to the Spire. “I have longed for you all my life, and now at last I feel your glory in my center. You are every woman’s fondest dream, you most marvelous of members.”

The Spire was pleased with the flattery; Prior felt its pleasure as his own. Oubliette wasn’t just praising it; she was serious.

“Now tell me all, from the start,” she said to Prior, kissing him. He knew the kiss was really for the Spire, but it was nevertheless wonderful. She was man’s dream of a woman, and it was great to have her so affectionate and obliging, despite his knowledge that it was really his member she loved rather than him personally. The cosmic dildo. “Give it to me. Take your time.” That was addressed to both man and phallic instrument. She surely knew that the Spire could communicate directly to her via its gouts, but was doing Prior the courtesy of letting him tell it. She was nice in a way her sister Tantamount hadn’t been. She also wanted to extend her session with the magic phallus, knowing that he would soon be moving on.

So while the Spire pulsed and the woman’s deep well responded, Prior talked. “The succubus who started it all a year ago has been visiting me every few weeks. I call her Suzie. She’s been sort of a girlfriend, because she knows I’ll deliver a load and not tell her supervisor that I wasn’t asleep. She’s not supposed to come to conscious men, maybe because then news of what her kind is doing would spread and people would be on guard. But we have an understanding. She gives me a really good time, and I give her a load or two, and we both pretend it never happened.”

“Or two?” Oubliette inquired, internally stroking the organ within her while distending elastically to take more of it in. She had very special anatomy.

“She’s learned to use a condom, so she can take my emission without having to change to incubus form and deliver it to a sleeping woman. That way she can stay the night, drawing a second or even a third from me in the course of a few hours, and I get the feel of a loving woman. Sure, I know it’s pretense, but that’s her role, to be my lover in exchange for the extra loads. It’s not that she’s nice, because she isn’t, but that I recover faster and deliver more if I have the illusion it’s a loving relationship. She’s getting good at it; sometimes I do think she cares.”

“A demoness? I think not. They have no souls, no conscience, no love. They do what they have to, to get what they need.” “They don’t need love?” “All the sexual demons need is semen. But they are good actors.” “Well, I guess it’s an act I need. I really crave a woman to love, who loves me back. She makes a decent substitute. She assumes different appearances, pretending to be women or girls who find me irresistible. I go for that. It’s an association of convenience.”

“Poor man,” she said sympathetically. “But with the assortment of members I gave you, you should be able to impress women.”

“I want a woman who wants me for myself, not my fancy penis. A woman like you.” He paused. “I mean, not you yourself, but—”

“One who matches my appearance, intelligence, and personality, but who isn’t all tied up in her profession. Who would have time for you.” “That’s it. I know it’s a foolish dream.” She sighed, and the motion extended into her vagina, generating another wave of feeling around the Spire. “Prior, you’re a decent man, and you have considerable courage, as your adventure on Mt. Icecream demonstrated. You’d make any woman a good if dull husband. If I were looking for a regular man, I’d consider you. But I’m not, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to pretend otherwise.”

“I understand. But decent men don’t get the girls. It’s the big, strong, handsome, rich men who have girl appeal.” “Yes, of course. It’s our nature to desire that sort of thing, just as it is

the nature of men to desire women like me and my sister.” “Tantamount,” he agreed. “I could have gone for her, if she hadn’t

ripped off my penis.” Oubliette smiled. “But you repaid her for that, didn’t you! She had to

vacate her practice and relocate.” “So I gathered. There were trucks loading smegma at her house.” She smiled again, the expression seeming to reflect internally as her flesh caressed the member pressing into her. “I must confess it was a fitting revenge. She wanted your smegma, and you gave her more than she could handle. That did alienate her.” “I guess so. Maybe I overdid it.” “Put it this way, Prior: if you were the last man on Earth, and she the last woman, she would chain you to a wall, rip off your penis, stuff dirt in your socket, and do a sexy striptease just out of your reach. Then she would consider how best to humiliate you.”

He nodded, experiencing a twinge of guilt. He had behaved badly. “Can’t say I blame her.”

“She swore me to secrecy about her situation, especially with respect to you.”

He had figured as much. “So when Suzie said my ideal woman was in trouble, I just had to try to rescue her. It could be my only chance.” “Who is this ideal woman?” “I don’t know. Just that she’s the Maiden in the Tower, in a weird land called Fartingale. I have a week to rescue her, if I’m going to. So I’m on my way.”

Her body tensed, and not because she had taken the Spire in another inch. “Any clue to her identity?”

“None. I don’t think Suzie knew either. But she wouldn’t lie to me. My ideal woman, whoever she is, has been abducted and is captive, and I can rescue her if I act in time.”

“I have heard of Fartingale. It’s one of the worlds the Statue Path ac cesses. An uncouth place.” “The Spire told me. Farts are a way of life there.” “She would absolutely hate it. She must be rescued.” “You know the maiden?” he asked, surprised. “I know her type. Every week they kidnap some innocent shapely woman and set her up for a year’s sex slavery to the man who wins her. They don’t mind if she’s horrified; in fact they like to see a maiden react. It adds to the pleasure of the man who abuses her. Certainly you must rescue her and take her away from there.” Now he had doubts. “But you know, if she really is beautiful, she might prefer one of those other men to me.” “Not if you touch her with the Spire.” “But I want her to want me for myself!” “Prior, Prior,” she said gently as her avenue stroked the Spire with its special peristalsis. The godly spike was almost completely into her now; she had expanded enough to accommodate its full length and girth. She had truly amazing anatomy. “These things take time. Do you suppose you would have me like this at this moment if it weren’t for the Divine Dildo? Capture her sexuality with the Spire, then maintain the association until she gets to know the rest of you. You will have to use the prime weapon, or you will inevitably lose her.”

He wasn’t sure how she could be so sure, but he trusted her judgment. “Use the Spire,” he agreed. It was surely excellent advice.

“And practice your approach. The way you treated my sister is a fine example of how not to treat a woman whose favor you desire. Take that as a guide. Don’t be yourself. After you tame her with the Cosmic Horn of Delight, focus on how nice you can be to her in other respects, and how decent you can be generally. That will give you at least a fighting chance to hold her when you no longer have the Spire.”

Her estimate of his potential to charm a woman was not reassuring, but he knew she was being realistic. “Work on my decency,” he agreed.

“Now let’s see what we can accomplish here,” she said. “Let’s make some real love.” She put her arms around him, drawing him tightly in to her so that her breasts flattened against him, and kissed him ardently as her vulva closed around and over his shaft. This was a piece of heaven; she was everything any man could ever desire. He responded, kissing her back, pressing his groin into hers, pretending she was really his woman.

But the real action was inside. She had entirely surrounded the Spire, and was squeezing it urgently. She was going into her orgasm, trying to take the divine phallus with her. Prior felt it all; it was like riding a storm that was centered on his embedded member. His own climax was coming; he couldn’t have helped it if he had wanted to.

And between them, they got to the Spire. It was billions of years old, made to service the wives and mistresses of the Eldest God of the Galaxy; it could spout any substance in unlimited quantity. But it was of demonic origin; it lacked true feelings of its own. Until this moment.

Oubliette went into the full throes of her orgasm, drawing Prior along. She clutched him closely, kissing him fiercely, convulsing around his member. And the Spire responded. It built into its own involuntary orgasm, which was of course what the woman had been trying for. She wanted more than the keen pleasure of its touch and ejaculate; she wanted its own joy of union. She was getting it. The Spire came. It erupted in an unbearably intense pulse of rapture, jetting with abandon. It exploded with the semblance of a supernova, flinging its passion outward. It was the éclat of the birth of the universe, with infinite energy and matter radiating out from an infinitely small center. The pinpoint swelled to a glob, the glob to sphere the size of a planet, the planet to a star, and the star to a nebula. This was the primeval pinwheel, the domain of the Eldest God of the Galaxy. Thereafter the galaxy expanded to a universe, but the terminology remained. The universe stretched out, cooling, until it was mostly vacuum, a relatively dull place. Out in the hinterland they hardly even knew of the greatness of EGG or of his divine copulatory pipe. But its power remained, for those few able to harness it.

Prior came out of his instant eon of orgasmic rapture to discover him self still embracing Oubliette, the Spire still nestled inside her, dribbling its last spasm of protoplasm. The two of them were floating in a viscous sea. The Spire’s orgasm had pumped out enough juice to overflow her deep vagina and leak out into the room, which was now two thirds full.

“Spire!” Oubliette said in mock reproof as she tread thick water. “You overestimated my capacity.”
APOLOGY, the Spire gouted. She laughed. “I made you come, didn’t I! Who was the last woman to

accomplish that?” EGG’S FAVORITE CONCUBINE, SEVERAL BILLION YEARS AGO. WHAT A

CREATURE SHE WAS! A LOT LIKE YOU. “I am surely her direct descendant,” Oubliette agreed, not trying to conceal her satisfaction. “But you have ruined my carpet. Now clean it up this instant.”

THAT’S WHAT THE CONCUBINE SAID. I SHALL HAVE TO WITHDRAW FROM YOUR DELIGHTFUL CHAMBER.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” she agreed. “I would really like to keep you within me forever, you utterly divine implement, but to do that I’d have to retire and marry Prior, and the carpet would stink. I’m not ready for that.”

“Let it stink,” Prior muttered. But Oubliette was already releasing the Spire; he felt it easing along her channel, inch by inch, as the two of them continued to float connected.

“Farewell, dear,” Oubliette said as the tip of the Spire finally slid out of her belly. Her labia closed on it in a parting nether kiss.

FAREWELL, DIVINE MORTAL. The Spire, also, hated to separate; it had not encountered a woman her equal in billions of years.

“How can you clean this up?” Prior asked it, stifling his unreasonable jealousy. “I thought you gouted only outward.”

TRUE. I SHALL HAVE TO GOUT A CLEANER. POINT ME AWAY FROM THAT PERFECT WOMAN. The Spire was out, but Prior was still embracing Oubliette, feeling her wonderful breasts against his chest within their mutual bath of thick fluid. “I have to let you go,” he said reluctantly.

“Of course, Prior,” she agreed. She kissed him again, and it seemed to make his head float better. She truly could have been his ideal woman, had she had the inclination. But he had always known she was well beyond him in every respect that counted. Which increased the mystery of the succubus’ message: how could there be a woman anywhere near as good for him as this one, who would have any real interest in him? It seemed impossible.

Then they parted and floated separately. Prior turned around and aimed the cosmic dildo toward the center of the filled room. “Ready,” he said, uncertain what was coming.

A weird bolus fired out of the member, churning the fluid in its vicinity. Prior couldn’t see it through the opacity of the substance, but the surface dipped and formed a whirlpool leading into it. The level of the fluid descended. Soon they were able to stand, as the tide ebbed down past their chests to their waists. He couldn’t help gazing at Oubliette’s perfectly shaped breasts as they emerged from the bath; her hair halter had come undone in the throes of the rapture. They hardly needed such support, upstanding despite their mass. She saw him looking, and smiled understandingly.

The level dropped below their crotches, uncovering the Spire. It was flaccid, an unusual state for it; it truly had climaxed and was quiescent, apart from the bolus it had emitted. That continued to draw in fluid, making a sucking sound as air also went into it. “What is that thing?” Prior asked. A SMALL BLACK HOLE, it gouted. “A black hole!” Prior exclaimed. “That’s dangerous.” “Do not be alarmed,” Oubliette said. “The Spire knows what he’s do

ing.” “I hope so.” Prior retreated to the side of the room. He knew that a black hole had so much gravity that nothing escaped it, not even light, and indeed this one was a blob of darkness. Its event horizon was only about three inches across, but it was gulping in fluid at a phenomenal rate. It had been more like one inch before; it was growing as it fed.

Before long all the liquid was gone. The black hole started to consume the floor. “My carpet!” Oubliette protested. “Do something,” Prior told the Spire. “Before it comes after us.” AIM ME AT IT. Prior lifted the limp member and pointed it at the black hole. Another bolus emerged, this one a blindingly bright pinpoint of light. It flew toward the black hole and circled it, caught in its gravity well. It spiraled in, ever more rapidly, until it disappeared into the event horizon. Then the black hole abruptly faded out. “What was that?” Prior asked, amazed.

A WHITE HOLE. THEY MERGED OUT INTO NOTHING. “I never heard of a white hole!” YOUR CULTURE IS SCIENTIFICALLY BACKWARD, FORTUNATELY. “I’ll have to replace the carpet,” Oubliette said crossly. Prior had a bright idea. “Spire—” AGREED. AIM ME. Prior held it up, pointing it at the center of the room. It convulsed, and from it shot a mass of substance. The mass flattened as it extended, becoming colorful. It reached the far side of the room, then broadened as it sank to the floor, showing a furry surface. It was a new carpet!

The material kept spewing out, until finally it settled across the entire chamber. It wasn’t just a rug; it was an enormously elaborate Persian carpet featuring an intricately woven picture of an ancient sultan making out with six luscious bare concubines simultaneously. That was quite a trick; his penis, tongue, both index fingers and both big toes were embedded in their open vaginas. Complicating the picture was a handsomely garbed woman just coming on the scene, surely his wife, who would demand equal service. What did he have left for her?

“That’s the famous King’s Dilemma carpet!” Oubliette exclaimed. “It was stolen a thousand years ago. It was reputed to be magic.” SORRY ABOUT THAT, the Spire gouted. IT WAS WHAT WAS AVAILABLE. YES, IT IS A FLYING CARPET. Prior repeated its message to her. “I’ll take it!” Oubliette said. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” She dropped to her knees and kissed the Spire. It quivered, recovering some erotic ambition. Perceiving that, she put her mouth around it and drew it in, farther and farther, while Prior stood in place, feeling rather left out. She kept working it in until almost the whole of it was down her throat. Only the thick base remained outside, too broad for her delicate mouth to compass. But she kept sucking and swallowing, silently urging it to perform.

The Spire was flattered; Prior felt its feeling. Oubliette truly understood it and liked it for its history as well as its capacity to deliver sexual pleasure. It gouted. Prior felt a surge of bliss jet from it and forge into her stomach. She had indeed evoked its potency again. Joy surged into her innards, so much better than the finest food or drink, transporting Prior as well in passing. She was getting a meal of divine seminal fluid, filling her stomach much as the meter maid had gotten her colon filled. It would surely last her a long time, giving pleasure as it progressed along her alimentary system in the course of the next few days.

The last gout faded. She drew her head back slowly, once again letting the long shaft slide out, adoring it on the way. Again, as the tip appeared, she kissed it. “Thank you, Spire,” she murmured. “For everything.” It gouted again, sending a thin stream between her lips. WHEN I AM

DONE WITH PRIOR, PERHAPS I COULD RETURN TO BE IN YOUR LABORATORY.

“Oh, yes, yes, Spire!” she said dreamily, licking the goo from her lips. “Welcome anytime. My business is artificial penises; you are the ultimate in that respect.” OF COURSE. It seemed they had made a date. Prior still felt somewhat isolated. “Maybe

we should clean up.” Her fair visage clarified. She became aware of him. “Of course, Prior.

This way.” She led him to her bathroom, where they had a steamy shower together and washed each other off. She paid him a lot of attention and hugged him several times, stroking her soapy breasts across him. He knew she was trying to make him feel better, and it was effective.

She also cautioned him again about dealing with the anonymous Maiden in the Tower. “She surely resents being abducted and put on exhibition like that. She may be angry at the man who wins her. That’s understandable. Don’t give her a chance to reject you; touch her with the Spire. She will then want sex, of course, and you will oblige her. But remember she is your ideal woman; you want to win her favor, not merely use her. Treat her as you would the woman you love, so as to win her love. Only then will she truly be yours.”

“Uh, sure,” he agreed, uncertain why she was orienting so firmly on this aspect. Why should she care whether he won his ideal woman? To make sure he didn’t decide he wanted Oubliette herself? But she knew he knew she was hopelessly out of his reach.

“You seem doubtful of my motive,” she said. “Perhaps this will clarify it: you are the one who carries the Spire. If you don’t bring him back to me, I won’t have him.” That did make sense. “I won’t need it, once I have my ideal woman.” “Exactly. I want you to win her.” She gave him a last luxurious embrace

and kiss, then stepped out of the shower. She had to find him new clothes, because his were sopping. Fortunately she had a fair supply, perhaps from male clients. “Maybe you should be anonymous, too,” she said. “You have grown a mustache, which changes your face; that’s good. Maybe some gray tint to your sideburns will make you look older.” “Why should I be anonymous?” “Because it could be a trap. Maybe someone there knows you have the

Spire, and wants to take him from you. You must not give them that chance.” That did make sense. He let her tint his hair, and cut it so that it changed

the apparent shape of his face. By this time it was late. “I shouldn’t ask, I know it,” she said. “But the Spire is just so—so—”

He opened his new trousers and drew it out. She embraced him stand ing, feeding the Spire up under her skirt and into her pantyless cleft. It remained not fully erect, having been softened by her considerable prior attentions, but it stiffened as it encountered her flesh, and in a moment sent a nice gout up into her. She thrilled once more to its offering. Then she kissed Prior again and showed him to his room for the night.

Tomorrow he would set out on the statue path. That was bound to be its own challenge.