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Authors: Piers Anthony
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over the memory of the experience. “Why do they risk that fate?” Veil asked. “For the prospect of winning a shapely maiden for a year of sexual
bliss.” “Don’t they know they lack the erotic skill to make the grade?” “Every man thinks he’s a champion lover.” “Every man is in denial!” She glanced at the scene, which had gone neutral. “So the ones that get past the demoness make it for the day. Are further applicants cut off?” “No, if there is more than one in a day, they must face off against each other in a farting contest.”
“I believe I’ll pass over that exhibition. I will consider what I have to say.”
She considered, and concluded that an appeal to the copulating, farting men who wanted her body would be less useful than a test of their mentality. She knew an intellectual puzzle that stumped most people who hadn’t encountered it before. The first part was easy, the second hard. Only a smarter or better informed man would realize what she had in mind.
She stood and faced the mirror-wall, knowing it was transparent from outside. She doffed her clothing and did a few jumping jacks, knowing that they made her flesh bounce enticingly, especially her breasts. That should attract the attention of any men in range, and of course it was being recorded so they could watch it again. “I am Veil, the Maiden in the Tower,” she said. “I will choose the man who correctly answers two riddles. The first riddle is this: Where in the world can a person walk south a mile, east a mile, north a mile, and be back where he started? The second riddle I will ask of those who answer the first, not announcing it in advance.” Then she did a few more exercises, including leg lifts and bicycling on her back that proffered a good view of her genital region. She had the sexual equipment; she was making sure they knew it. Men were such fools about bodies.
“That should do it,” the announcer agreed. “Top it off with a good fart.”
Oh, of course. She had been automatically stifling her gas; now she blew it out as loudly as she could. It seemed that hearing a woman fart was similar to seeing her urinate, in this feculent culture.
Part 2: Contest
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,
bliss.” “Don’t they know they lack the erotic skill to make the grade?” “Every man thinks he’s a champion lover.” “Every man is in denial!” She glanced at the scene, which had gone neutral. “So the ones that get past the demoness make it for the day. Are further applicants cut off?” “No, if there is more than one in a day, they must face off against each other in a farting contest.”
“I believe I’ll pass over that exhibition. I will consider what I have to say.”
She considered, and concluded that an appeal to the copulating, farting men who wanted her body would be less useful than a test of their mentality. She knew an intellectual puzzle that stumped most people who hadn’t encountered it before. The first part was easy, the second hard. Only a smarter or better informed man would realize what she had in mind.
She stood and faced the mirror-wall, knowing it was transparent from outside. She doffed her clothing and did a few jumping jacks, knowing that they made her flesh bounce enticingly, especially her breasts. That should attract the attention of any men in range, and of course it was being recorded so they could watch it again. “I am Veil, the Maiden in the Tower,” she said. “I will choose the man who correctly answers two riddles. The first riddle is this: Where in the world can a person walk south a mile, east a mile, north a mile, and be back where he started? The second riddle I will ask of those who answer the first, not announcing it in advance.” Then she did a few more exercises, including leg lifts and bicycling on her back that proffered a good view of her genital region. She had the sexual equipment; she was making sure they knew it. Men were such fools about bodies.
“That should do it,” the announcer agreed. “Top it off with a good fart.”
Oh, of course. She had been automatically stifling her gas; now she blew it out as loudly as she could. It seemed that hearing a woman fart was similar to seeing her urinate, in this feculent culture.
Part 2: Contest
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,
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