Chapter 16—Gulf

Veil opened her eyes, wary of what she might find. Her caution turned out to be more than justified: she was in a bleak stony wasteland. Micro was beside her, his eyes still closed. They had been drugged again, and dumped in what appeared to be the gulf they had seen before. They remained naked, as was Chance. There was a sound: an ugly snuffling or oinking. Something was coming. “Micro,” she said urgently. He woke. “Where are we?” “In the gulf, I think. Something’s coming.” Micro stood, somewhat unsteadily, and looked about. “Damn.” “What is it?” she asked, getting to her own feet, holding Chance. “Pigs. Big ones. They smell us and are coming this way.” She looked desperately around. There was some scrub brush, but no

where to go to. “I’ll try to distract them,” he said. “You get away from here.” “And leave you to be overrun?” “Better than both of us getting savaged.” It became academic. The pigs saw them and charged. They were huge brutes, a boar and a sow, standing two thirds as high as a person. It would be difficult or impossible to outrun them. “Stand still,” Veil said. “They may not bother stationary targets.”

They stood still. The pigs charged up and stopped. They put their snouts to the human crotches and sniffed, just like unmannerly dogs. Veil was terrified, but remained absolutely still, holding Chance up out of danger, as the boar nudged his snout up between her thighs. The sow seemed to be doing something similar to Micro.

The boar jammed harder. Veil lost her balance and stumbled. She man aged to turn, flinging out her right hand to catch her fall as she shielded Chance with her left. She landed clumsily on hands and knees, her baby safe.

And the boar mounted her from behind. She couldn’t scramble away because his forepart was on her, holding her down, while his corkscrew penis rammed into her posterior. It was all she could do to hold her position, so as not to collapse and crush her baby under her. All she could do was scream, and even that was more like a gasp, as she couldn’t get enough of a breath.

The boar pizzle twisted like a screw being driven into a tight hole. It was small considering the size of the animal, but was distending her vagina awkwardly. She heard an urgent grunting. Then the semen came, like water from a firehose, flooding her aperture and pressuring out to slide down her legs.

Something moved. Blearily she saw a figure, maybe the other pig. There was a swishing sound, and a horrible smell.

The boar oinked and fell to the side. Veil was left on knees and one hand, her head spinning, her bottom soaking. What had happened?

A hand reached down to help her up. “Are you all right?” It was Micro’s voice. “What happened?” “I farted.” “Come again?” “The magic fart. My power. The sow was about to chomp my testicles, so I let her have it in the snout with a stunner. Then I came to stun the boar similarly. Did I get it in time?”

“Almost,” she said, with a bit of a smile. What else was there to do? “I did get raped by a pig.” “I’m sorry. If I’d reacted faster—” “I am familiar with sex, including the forced variety. I haven’t freaked

out. But I must say I’m angry.” “If I’d realized, I would have stunned them faster. I—I don’t yet know

all my powers.” “I’m not angry at you,” she said. “I was caught offguard too. It’s the

damn rapist hog I’m mad at.” He considered. “We’ll need food. Suppose we butcher it and eat it? An

other magic fart will kill it.” Veil looked around. “I can gather some flint and make a knife, if you gather

some wood for a fire. But I’m not sure how we’ll light it.” “I can handle that.” She took him at his word. Carrying Chance, she foraged for the special stones she sought, while she saw him squat by the boar’s head and blow out a visible cloud of vapor. The boar stopped breathing, while the sow struggled to her feet and fled the scene. He did have a remarkable nether talent.

She found several stones ranging from volcanic glass to chert, and cracked or chipped them until she had a crude blade. Meanwhile Micro fetched in several armloads of dry branches and twigs. He formed a small pyramid, then squatted, aiming his rear at it. What was he up to now?

A jet of flame shot from his anus, igniting the fire. Veil was so startled she dropped her stone knife. Those farts were truly magic!

She carved off a huge haunch. Micro came to help her, using a second crude knife she had made. “You’re no helpless female,” he remarked.

She didn’t want to reveal the source of her expertise with knives, so demurred. “Merely kitchen skill.”

They set the severed haunch on the fire. Soon the odor of roasting pig permeated the environment. “We seem to make a good team,” Micro said. “We do,” she agreed. In time they carved the roast and fed well. She nursed Chance, and set him in a comfortable declivity to nap. “One thing about this meat,” Micro said. “It doesn’t supercharge us sexually.”

“That’s a relief,” she agreed. “I have nothing against sex, but I do prefer to indulge in it when I choose, rather than as an aphrodisiac forces the issue.”

He nodded. “Actually I like it any time. But that fruit made me hungry for more too soon.”

She saw his penis stirring. There was still some of that fruit in his sys tem, as it was in hers. Despite recent events, she felt the urge. Nursing the baby sometimes had the effect. “If you wish to do it now, I’m amenable.” “But you just got—” “Raped by a pig,” she repeated. “I did get somewhat uncomfortably

stretched. Therefore I ask you to be gentle.” He looked as if he was trying to demur, but his penis was thickening. Penises had little regard for finer instincts. “If you’re sure. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let’s do it this way,” she said. “You lie supine and I will mount you. That way I will be in control, and can avoid discomfort.”

“Great!” he agreed, and lay on his back on the ground, his member rising stiffly against his belly.

She straddled him, her thighs spreading outside his. She lifted his penis and fitted it carefully into her vagina as she lifted her body. She let herself down on him carefully. It was all right; the boar had stretched her, but Micro’s normal sized member did not. Her buttocks came to rest on his groin, the connection complete. “Oops,” Micro said. “We’re facing each other.” She had forgotten. “Perhaps this is no longer for purely sexual relief.” “I guess not,” he agreed. “I like you a lot.” She remained there a moment, making sure. This was nice, but she needed

more stimulation. “If you wish to fondle my breasts, you may.” “But they—you—” “I nurse my baby,” she agreed. “Is that a turnoff?” “No! I mean, your breasts must be tender.” She smiled, knowing that he could not see the expression. She reached down and caught his two hands, lifting them to her breasts, which were very full. “They are, so stroke rather than grab. Do you wish to kiss them?” “I, uh—” She leaned down until her breasts were near his face. But she would have had to disconnect below to put them at his face, so she didn’t. “Another time, perhaps.” He licked his lips. “Okay.” She sat back up, and he fondled, keeping it gentle. That helped, but still wasn’t enough to work her up. “I will seek my own satisfaction,” she said. “You will achieve yours in the course of that, I think.” “Sure. It’s great just being in you.” She put her finger down and touched her clitoris, as she had when they had abated their drives the prior night. She titillated it, and felt desire spreading from it to her vagina. The clitoris was analogous to the man’s penis, the most ready source of sexual response. Men, and many women, thought that female orgasm derived mainly from the vagina, but that was not true. It accounted for the difficulty many women had achieving orgasm; they were depending on the wrong stimuli.

She worked herself up, then went into the throes of her climax. At the height of it she felt Micro’s member spurting; she had brought him off by her motions, rather than his thrusting. That had spared her most of the aggravation of the flesh caused by the pig. She was also satisfied to have erased that foul intrusion by overlaying it with a normal sexual event.

“You’re great!” Micro gasped. “You didn’t have to do it, but you did it for me.” “Perhaps,” she agreed. “I think I love you.” Such a reaction was fairly common with men during sex. “I care for you too,” she said. Then she lifted off him, and used some dry moss to mop herself clean. “No, really,” he said. “You are my ideal woman.” “But you haven’t seen my face.” “I admit it will be a shock if you turn out to have a face like a crone. But you’re competent, and nice. I’m glad I came to rescue you, even if I’m not succeeding very well.”

She was touched. “I selected you because you seemed to be the least objectionable of the candidates. But you, too, seem decent and competent.” “Well, I want to be, for you.” “But I do have my baby.” “I’m getting used to that. I don’t have any experience as a father, but I’m willing to learn.”

That was a significant hurdle being overcome. There were others. “Yet at such time as we return to our own culture, your amazing farts will not be of much use. I happen to be a woman of some means. That may deter you.”

“Well, I sure never planned to marry for money. But if that’s the price of you, maybe I can do good works, volunteer stuff, so as to have some self respect.”

“Perhaps you can,” she agreed. She did like him, as she came to know him. They could surely work something out. He fidgeted. “Um, could I—kiss you?” He was still feeling the emotion. “You may.” She stepped into his arms. He kissed her, his lips finding hers within her shroud. Then he kept his

face close and whispered in her ear. “I think we’re still be watched.” “I agree,” she whispered back. “We’re still entertainment. But how to we

escape observation?” For surely the swine, trained to rape, were part of it. “We go somewhere they don’t expect.” “I agree,” she said. Then they parted. They carved more of the roast pig. Veil fashioned a crude basket of branches and twigs, and Micro hefted it. “I’ll carry this, and we’ll have food for several days,” he said. “But we’ll have to find water.” “Maybe downhill,” she said. They walked downhill, and in due course came to a small stream. They

drank thirstily; the water was sparkling clear. “Let’s camp here for the night,” Micro said. He had something in mind? They foraged, and thus time fashioned a small lean-to of deadwood. They made another fire, ate more roast, performed natural functions downstream, and as darkness closed, lay in the lean-to, embracing for more sex. Actually it was a way to talk privately.

“I see the stream flowing away,” Micro whispered. “But I don’t see where it comes from. There must be a spring—or a cave.” “A cave system!” she whispered back. “They might have trouble putting hidden cameras in there. We might be

able to hide.” She wasn’t sure of that, but it was better than nothing. “They can see us

in the dark, and would know where we go.” “I thought about that. I can make an obscuring fart, so they can’t see us.” She laughed, in a whisper. “How did you ever develop such a talent?” “I didn’t. I have a—a device.” “Ah, so you came to this realm prepared.” “Yes.” “Then let’s go seek our cave,” she said. “While they think we’re indulging

in sexual intercourse in the lean-to.” “It may stink some. Try not to cough.” She held Chance close and waited. She heard the faint hiss of escaping gas. There was an odor, not unpleasant, and the air around them seemed to thicken somewhat. The fart was taking hold.

They climbed carefully out of the lean-to and made their way upstream. There was just enough starlight so they could see; she hoped their accompanying cloud of mist prevented them from being seen.

Their guess was good: the stream emerged from the steepening slope of the edge of the gulf. Over the millennia it had widened its channel, and there was room for them to walk beside it. But there was no light at all in the cave. They would quickly get lost in it. Then Micro farted again, and this time the mist he issued glowed, faintly

illuminating the cave. Truly, his farts were magical! They followed the meandering stream channel upward, navigating dark pools and rapids as necessary. They were bound to reach the surface some time, and then, with luck, they would be free of observation and could try to return to their own realm.

There was a figure ahead. It seemed to be a woman, clothed in diapha nous gauze, of unearthly beauty. “Come to meee,” she called. “I don’t trust this,” Veil said. But Micro was already walking toward the figure. He embraced her, kissed her, then bore her to the floor of the cave, which in that region was a cushioned bower. He was having sex with her already!

Then he wrenched up his head and looked back at Veil. “I’m stuck—in a—perpetual orgasm,” he gasped. “She’s a—a sexual vampire! I can’t quit.” His effort of free will exhausted, he returned to his long kiss.

A vampire! Veil figured it out: some vampires sought blood. Others were like deadly succubi, using pheromones to take over a man’s testes and prostate, forcing him to keep generating and ejaculating the seminal fluid on which they fed. Until the victims expired.

She had to stop this. But how? Once the vampire got a man’s member into her hole, she clamped on it so securely that if she were hauled away by brute force, she would rip off his penis in the process. She could not be persuaded to stop; she was a feeding mechanism. The accompanying kiss was the mechanism to feed in the pheromones, keeping him charged.

Veil reviewed her information, seeking an effective approach. Then she thought of something. It was truly weird, but just might work. She set Chance down. Even the baby had an erect penis in the present of this sexual monster.

She approached the vampire and put her face down by the thing’s head. “I’m going to kiss you,” she said to it. Then she took hold of its hair and wrenched its face away from Micro’s face, breaking the kiss. Before the connection could be reinstated, she put her own mouth on the vampire’s mouth. But there were two differences. First, she was not a man, so the pheromones did not affect her the same way, though they did make her clitoris twitch. Second, she was not inhaling, she was exhaling. She blew her air into the lungs of the creature. She breathed in through her nose, and blew more air out through her mouth. When some leaked out of the vampire’s nose, she pinched it shut with her fingers, and went on inflating the body. The creature tried to struggle, but was locked on Micro and pinned under both him and Veil. It had very little play.

Veil continued to pump air into it. The vampire was not a regular person; her flesh was elastic, and almost boneless. It had no urethra or colon, only the business aperture, so there was no place to let the excess air out. The pressure was blowing it up like a balloon. It swelled, becoming fat, then rounded. Veil kept breathing, forcing ever more air inside.

At last the internal pressure was too great. Micro’s intruding penis was popped out as the rubbery hole inverted. He rolled to the side, and lay there, staring upward. He was out of it for now.

Veil removed her mouth and let go of the vampire. Air whistled out of its mouth. The figure skidded along the cave floor, propelled by the escaping gas, then disappeared down the cave, involuntarily flying. She focused on Micro. “Wake! We have to get out of here.” He lay there, moaning. A tired dribble of goo leaked from his subsiding

penis. The pheromones had not yet cleared his body. She got another idea. “Fart!” she said. “Magic fart. Fart out a nullifying

gas. I know you can do it.” There was a small hiss as his colon got busy. A sweetish gas spread around them. It quelled her clitoris, and soon the man’s penis shrank. But he remained too tired to move.

Well, that anti-pheromone gas was probably enough to keep the vampire away. She recovered Chance and lay beside Micro. “You’re safe now,” she murmured soothingly, holding his head against her breasts. He recovered slightly. “You saved me!” “A little late,” she agreed. He laughed weakly. “Just as I saved you from that pig a little late.” “So we’re even now.” “I love you.” “You don’t even know who I am. I don’t know who you are. We can’t

speak of love.” Yet her heart was yearning toward him. “My name—my name is Prior Gross,” he said. Veil froze. She knew that name. This was the man she hated. The discovery was like a bucket of ice water, chilling her dawning affection for him. What a despicable pass!