The Magic Fart

Chapter 19—Challenge

“—woman,” Prior concluded. But the woman and baby were gone. Then a picture appeared. It showed a horrendous demon with a nineinch penis as thick as a young tree trunk. “A salutation, shithead,” he said. “Do you recognize me?”

Bemused, Prior wasn’t sure. “One demon looks much like another, to me,” he said. “Where’s Tantamount?”

The demon fuzzed and shifted into the image of a limb from a tree, with a single bright cherry. “Now do you know me, turdass?”

“The cherry tree!” Prior exclaimed.

“The First Branch.” The demon reappeared.

“You got it at last, pukemouth. I’m ba-a-ack.”

“But I abolished you,” Prior protested. “I fucked you into oblivion.”

“Get this straight, twat-head. You had the incredible luck to get your perverted little weenie into my ass and send me into limbo for a year. Now my time is up and I have reconstituted. By demonic law I can neither re-challenge you nor indulge in another fuck fight with you. None of us can. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to let that outrage pass.”

“All—of you demons—are back?” Prior said, horrified.

“With a vengeance, feces-face. We spent our time in limbo planning how to fix you once we got the chance. We realized that we would have to make you come to us. That meant we would have to have something you wanted, even if you didn’t know it yet. So we set you up with a special Tower Maiden and gave you a chance to get to know her.”

That explained everything. They had abducted Tantamount and let him know it, without naming her. She really was his ideal woman, as he now knew. They had arranged it so that he would discover this. The moment she committed to him, so that he knew there really could be a future with her, they had pounced. She had never been the real target; he had been. She was the one thing that would make him come to the vengeful demons. She had served their purpose admirably.

The demon nodded, aware of the progress of Prior’s thoughts. “Now here’s how it’s gonna be, fuckass. We can’t challenge you, but you can challenge us. We can’t fuck you, but we can fart you. So you are going to challenge each of us to a farting to the death as long as you last, which won’t be long because I will vaporize you before my sibling branches have the chance, much to their displeasure.”

Prior knew he had been supremely lucky to have beaten the five demons, there on Mount Icecream. He knew better than to tackle them again. He would have to find some other way to rescue Tantamount from their possession. “Forget it, twiggy. I’m not getting into a hexagon with any of you.”

The demon frowned. “Oh, that’s too bad, pantywaist. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to change your ignorant little mind?”

“Quite sure,” Prior said. “Not even if I do something foul to your girlfriend?” The demon reached out of the picture, caught hold of something, and hauled Tantamount into sight by her hair. Baby Chance was still in her arms.

“Let her go!” Prior said. “She’s not part of this!”

“Ah, but she is, stink-guts. She is your inspiration.”

“She’s my fiancée,” Prior agreed. “But you have no quarrel with her.”

“Here’s how it is, putrid prick. She’s going to ask you to challenge us.”

“No I won’t!” Tantamount cried. “Don’t do it, Prior!”

“So why should I?” Prior asked, though he was now distinctly nervous.

These demons were not nice folk. “Because,” the demon said with relish, “I just might encourage her with some fucking heat.”

“Heat?” Prior asked blankly.

“Like so: a small demonstration.” The demon hauled the woman in to him, forced her legs up, and inserted his thick member into her flinching vagina.

“Raping me won’t accomplish anything,” Tantamount said scornfully. “I’ve already been raped by a pig. You’re just another pig.”

“Give it a moment, honey,” the demon said, shoving the full nine inches in with an obviously satisfying effort. Tantamount winced but did not protest.

Then she began to look uncomfortable. Then she struggled to free her self, but the demon held firm.

“Oh, it’s hot!” she cried.

“You don’t say.” The demon faced Prior. “I can heat my member to red hot,” he said conversationally. “That makes no difference to you, since I can’t fuck with you. But it just may make a difference to her. I think we’re about a hundred and twenty degrees now.”

Tantamount screamed in pain. Prior realized that he hadn’t thought this through well enough: Tantamount wasn’t just a way to bring him to the demons, she was a way to make him do their will. “Or higher,” the demon said. “I’ll just cook her innards until you see the light, diarrhea-snot. Take your time; this is fun.”

Tantamount screamed again, in obvious agony. It was too much.

“I’ll do it,” Prior said.

The demon cupped an ear. “Eh? Did you say something?”

Tantamount’s mouth stretched in a rictus of torment.

“I challenge you!” Prior yelled.

The demon nodded, and allowed Tantamount to scramble off his steaming member.

“I’ll just have to roast this pig another time,” he said, as she collapsed into a huddled mass. “Your appointment with me is tomorrow at noon, at Castle Demon. Be late if you wish; your gal here is a nice hot fuck.”

Prior knew he would not be late.

Chapter 20—Tease

Tantamount huddled pitifully. It was true she was hurting, and had been made to scream, but not completely true. She had realized that the demon intended to make her scream, and that he had the capacity to do so, so she had obliged sooner rather than later. Thus she had avoided suffering actual heat damage to her vaginal tract, though even so the pain had been awful. There was no question: she was in the monster’s power. She was the lever to make Prior do what he didn’t want to do: risk his life by fighting the demons a second time.

She didn’t want him to do it. But she knew he would, as long as she was hostage to his performance. She wished she had just kept quiet about her decision to marry him; then the demons wouldn’t have pounced. She had really brought this horror on herself.

But all was not yet lost. If she could escape the demon, Prior wouldn’t have to do battle. She would simply have to use her feminine cunning.

“This is your room, bitch ass,” the demon said. “Make yourself com fortable. You will be my mistress, once I abolish your boyfriend, so keep your hole tender.”

She didn’t argue, knowing it was useless. It was surely true: if Prior died, she would remain indefinitely in the demon’s power, and what else would he want from her other than sex? Every act of copulation would be a further reminder of his victory over his enemy. She understood that demons liked possessing human lovers; it was a mark of status, since few humans agreed to such liaisons willingly. Not when the demons were the ones holding the power.

She surveyed the room. There was a fancy double bed in the center, a basin and large chamber pot in the corner, and what appeared to be plenty of closet space. There was also a table with an assortment of fruits, breads, pastries, and drinks. And even a television set in another corner, next to a crib. This had evidently been set up for her occupation, awaiting her acquisition.

“It will do,” she said.

“It had better, sweet cunt.” The demon faded out. She went to the table and sampled the food. She had to eat, so as to have milk for Chance. She sipped a glass of blue lemonade; it was surprisingly tasty. But almost immediately her stomach went to gas; this was fart food. It seemed the demons liked farts too. Or maybe it was simply another aggravation they were inflicting on her.

She ate, nursed Chance, and turned on the TV set. It offered the usual fare: news features, weather, and feculent fiction. She might as well have been back in the Tower.

She put Chance down to sleep, and used the pot. No need to store urine now; she would have no need of it. She was almost sorry to let go of the last of the fluid Prior had provided her. He had adapted well enough to the necessity, a point in his favor.

She washed up and went to bed. She blew out the lamp. She needed her rest.

Two hours later she woke, went to the crib, picked Chance up, and nursed him in the darkness. Then, carrying him, she made her silent way to the chamber door. There was a faint glow to the walls, enabling her to see her dim way. She explored the hall and adjacent chambers, searching for she knew not what.

She found it: a small rolled carpet. This was a magic castle, in a land where magic was common, at least for those who could afford it. She spread the carpet on the floor, sat cross-legged on it, and whispered “Lift.”

It rose from the floor. Sure enough, it was a magic carpet. She had hardly dared hope, but had had to seek any possible avenue of escape.

“Down,” she said, and it descended to the floor. She rolled it up again and carried it to her room. She opened the big window wide, then spread the carpet and got on it again, holding Chance. “Up and out, carefully,” she said.

The carpet obligingly rose and floated slowly out the window. The starry night was above and around. She was free! But this was only the beginning; she needed to get well away from here, so the demon would not locate her and fetch her back.

She pondered briefly. “Nude-on-Toilet,” she said, identifying the village Prior had passed through. It was near the path leading away from Fartingale. If she got there, the demon might never find her. Prior was bound to pass that way when he left, so she could intercept him.

The carpet accelerated smoothly, climbing and flying through the darkness. She saw the lights of a nearby village, and the dark outlines of trees. Glorious!

The flight became dull; the village was several hours distant. She slept sitting up, as the carpet was not large enough for her to stretch out comfortably. She woke as it descended toward a village. She saw a statue of a bare woman sitting on a potty: this was Nude-on-Toilet!

“The house of Smellie,” she said, hoping the carpet was knowledgeable enough to know it. Evidently it did; it landed before one of the huts in the village.

“Wait here,” she told the carpet as she got off, knowing she would need it again. Just to be sure it stayed, she lifted a corner and kissed the cloth. “I like you.” The carpet made a shiver of pleasure. It would stay. She held Chance and knocked on the door. After a moderate delay, a hooded figure opened it.

“Yes?”

“I—am a friend of—of Micro. I believe you know him.”

“Oh, yes! Come in.”

Tantamount entered. The woman’s comprehensive hood reminded her of her own recent masking. Then she remembered: Smellie was recovering from magic facial surgery.

“Micro helped you.”

“Yes!”

“May I see?”

The woman drew back the hood. Her face was beautiful.

“It’s still healing,” she said uncertainly.

“It’s a success. You are lovely.”

“Really?”

“Really. You are now a beautiful woman.”

“I’m so relieved.” Then Smellie got practical. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I was the Maiden in the Tower. Micro rescued me.”

“Oh, yes, he wanted to do that. He said you were his ideal woman.”

“So I turned out to be. But then the demons pounced, and are using the threat of harming me to make him fight them, so they can kill him. I must escape. Will you help me?”

“How can I help you?”

“By hiding me until he realizes they have no hold on him. Then he’ll go home, and will surely pass this way.”

It sounded simplistic as she said it, but it was all she could do. Prior would surely look for her, and the demons would track him as he did, so she had to be excruciatingly careful.

Smellie nodded. “I will do what I can. But it is too soon for me to ply my trade. My face is not yet healed; it hurts when anything touches it. I can’t even kiss a man.”

“As it happens, I can. Bring your men here, and promise them rapture in darkness. I will deliver that.”

Thus would she earn her keep: anonymously whoring. This misadventure in Fartingale had certainly changed her circumstance. They discussed it, and concluded it was feasible. Then Tantamount set Chance down on the bed, and something weird happened. The blanket rose up and wrapped itself around him.

Startled, Tantamount reached to take her baby back, but the blanket constricted, making Chance cry.

“Forget it, bitch,” the blanket said. “I will crush your brat to death.”

“The demon!” she exclaimed in horror.

“The First Branch,” the blanket agreed. “Now it is time to go home. We wouldn’t want to disappoint your idiot man, would we? He expects to do battle with me at noon.”

“My escape—it was just a tease,” Tantamount said.

“It was a demonstration, whore girl. You can’t escape as long as I have your brat. Do you concede that, or shall I throttle him now?” The blanket tightened around Chance’s throat.

“I concede it!” she cried.

“I’m so sorry,” Smellie said.

“And you, fart face, will not speak of this.”

“Never,” the woman agreed, cowed. What else could she do? The demon could throttle her too.

“Now sit on me,” the blanket said, shifting to the magic carpet form.

“We have a way to go.”

Meekly, Tantamount picked up Chance and sat cross-legged on the carpet. It lifted and plowed into the wall—and through it without resistance, giving her a momentary scare. A demon trick. It sailed up into the brightening sky. Something goosed her.

“Oh!”

“Sit still, slut slot. I’m giving you a ride; I’m going to soak my pecker comfortably on the way. Do you have a problem with that?”

Tantamount realized how readily the demon could drop Chance off, to fall and be smashed on the ground far below.

“No problem.”

The center of the carpet rose up, forming the demon’s phallus, and poked into her reluctant vagina.

“Like that cute story you told the impotent jerk, even the sheets wanting to get into her,” the demon said. “You’ll be riding my motherfucking horn for the next hour, young mother. Relax and enjoy it, cuddle cunt, while you feed your brat. Fuck and suck, ha-ha.” Each syllable of the laugh drove the cloth phallus farther in.

She couldn’t relax, as the demon knew, but refused to give him the satisfaction of protesting. She was stuck for his teasing.

Chapter 21—First Branch

Prior spent a restless night, hating what he had brought on Tantamount. He was the reason she had been abducted and made a Tower Maiden; he was the reason she was now being tortured. It really, truly, was all his fault. But he loved her. He would do what he had to do. He had no trouble finding his way to Castle Demon. It was not far off, and everyone knew where it was, and avoided it. The castle itself was like a giant tree: a cherry tree, with five massive branches. That was the code name of the demons who had been assigned to guard the Spire; he had defeated them and taken the Spire, and thus earned their enmity. Could he beat them again? What choice did he have? He couldn’t let Tantamount remain in their vile hands. He had no doubt they were forcing her into sex already; any threat to her baby—his baby—would be enough. Just as any threat to her was enough to force him to challenge. They had planned this trap most cunningly.

“Okay, I’m here,” he called. “First Branch, I challenge you to a farting off.”

The demon appeared.

“To the death,” he said. “You have to say that, or I can’t kill you.”

“There’s a choice?”

“Of course. Most contests are merely to unconsciousness.”

“And that won’t do?”

“Put it this way: your girlfriend needs impaling. She will get it in an hour, if you don’t arrange to prevent it.”

“You’re raping Tantamount,” Prior said flatly. He knew the demon was trying to rattle him.

“That, too. She has a most conducive hole, and I expect to be reaming it for some time, as I did this morning. But this is more specific.”

Prior didn’t want to ask, but had to. “How so?”

“I’m so glad you asked. Are you a student of history?”

“Not much.”

“I’m thinking of the Assyrians. They won many battles, and liked to impale their enemies on tall stakes. The point of the stake was set into the victim’s asshole; then the stake was erected and set in the ground with the man on top. His own weight slowly drove the stake deeper into his rectum and his guts, until at last he expired. Admirable folk, the Assyrians; I can’t think why others didn’t like them.”

Prior did not like the direction this was taking.

“What has this to do with Tantamount?”

“Behold.” The demon gestured. A stout wood stake appeared, sharpened to a point above. Suspended over it was Tantamount, holding the baby in a sling. Her arms were extended up over her head, her wrists tied by a thick loop of rope. The rope passed over a pulley and descended to a big old fashioned clock that had the current time: noon. The loop was wound around a wheel that was evidently on the same axle as the minute hand of the clock; in an hour it would rotate a full turn, releasing about a foot of rope. She hung there unmoving, though her eyes showed she was conscious.

“Now let’s complete the setting,” the demon said. He went to the stake, reached up, caught the woman’s legs, and pulled them down around the stake. The rope gave, allowing this. “Now let’s see your pretty little pucker, sweetie.” He parted her legs and guided her hanging body so that the point of the stake just touched her cleft. He drew her body down a little more, so that the point nudged into her vagina. “I see you know better than to kick or struggle, dearie,” he said. “Because that will merely cause the rope to slip faster, dropping you onto the stake. Absolute stillness is best; then only the passage of time brings your descent. Nevertheless, it could become uncomfortable after half an hour, and worse after an hour, as the penetration moves from half a foot to a full foot. At some point your lovely wet cunt will run out; then the prick will deepen it in its own pointed fashion.”

He turned to Prior.

“Have I made the situation clear, smegma brains? Within the hour one of us is bound to win, and that person will rescue the woman, with luck before she suffers significant harm. If the contest should extend beyond an hour, that can not be guaranteed. But you are welcome to take your time if you want to.”

“It won’t take an hour,” Prior said grimly. “Let’s get on with it.”

He had no certainty of defeating the demon, but obviously had to try. Win or lose, it had to be fast.

“Done.” The demon gestured, and a pentagram appeared: a five pointed star. “The combat will take place within the figure; if you wish to take a break, merely step out.”

He stepped in.

Prior doffed his pantaloons and stepped in, naked. Instantly the demon was on him, wrestling him to the ground.

“First I owe you for that candle fuck.”

He got Prior on his belly, lay on top of him, and angled his ramrod penis into the crack of his posterior.

“An ass fuck doesn’t count for this, but bear with me; it’s for personal satisfaction. It wouldn’t be the same after you’re dead.”

Prior struggled, but was helpless. He couldn’t get his hands or feet under him; the demon’s weight kept him flat. Meanwhile that phallus was driving at his rectum, trying to force the aperture.

He looked up, and saw Tantamount, already lower on the pole. The demon was happy to take his time, but Prior wasn’t. He had to finish this soon. Time, Spire, he thought urgently.

I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ASK, the Spire gouted.

Then it issued a small thin little squeaker of a fart.

“What a pipsqueak!” the demon said. “You call that a fart? That hardly shook my pecker hair.”

He sniffed. “This wouldn’t stun a butterfly! It’s laughable.”

“I’m going to beat you,” Prior gasped.

“Not with that puny little effort. The very idea is hilarious.” The demon laughed again, harder. “I thought we’d have at least the semblance of a contest. What a joke!”

“I’m winning,” Prior said. “You’re finished, branch.”

“Ho ho ho! What a ludicrous threat. I haven’t heard anything that rich in centuries!”

Overcome by humor, the demon laughed so hard that he rolled off Prior and curled up on his back on the floor, hardly able to get a breath between guffaws. Prior got up, dusted himself off, then squatted over the demon’s face and let out another small fart.

The demon inhaled. A look of shock crossed his ugly features. “Oh, I’m done for! How could this happen?” Then he popped out of existence.

Prior ran across to Tantamount. Only about fifteen minutes had passed, but that was enough to set a good three inches of the stake into her.

“Don’t touch me!” she gasped. “Any jog will drop me on it. Pull from the other end.”

He ran to the clock. He was about to take hold of the rope between it and the pulley, but she stopped him again. “Wind the clock hand backwards. That’s safest.”

He did so, and slowly the rope rewound and drew her up off the stake. Once she was clear, she pushed herself to the side with one leg. “Now lower me, slowly.”

He did so, and soon she stood on the ground, bringing her hands down. He rushed to embrace her.

Chapter 22—Demoness

Tantamount turned eagerly to accept Prior’s embrace. “What happened?” she asked. “The demon was winning, and I feared for you. Then he started laughing and didn’t stop. The joke couldn’t have been that funny.”

“No joke,” he said, pausing to kiss her. “I farted laughing gas.”

“Laughing gas!” she exclaimed, laughing herself. “But that’s an anesthetic.”

“Yes. He thought he was laughing of his own volition, so he didn’t even try to fight it. That was his mistake.”

“You’re wonderful!” She kissed him passionately. “Let’s find a bed, while we have time. I’m so relieved to be free again.”

“Forget it, mortal man,” a sultry voice said. It was a dusky demoness in an elegant dress, bold of breast, stout of thigh, classic of feature, with a necklace of fifty severed shriveled human penises. “You must win her from me. Tomorrow at noon.”

“The Second Branch!” Prior exclaimed.

“But we should have a day to ourselves, between bouts,” Tantamount protested. She was feeling downright romantic, after the horrors of the night and her near brush with impalement.

“No. You are in my power now.” The nails of the demoness’s fingers extended like the claws of a cat, digging into Tantamount’s flesh. “Hostage to his performance tomorrow.”

Then the scene changed. They were in a lush bedroom suite. This was obviously the second level, the residence of the Second Branch.

Maybe she could learn something useful. “You look too svelte to be in a business like this,” Tantamount said. “You have an hourglass figure.”

The demoness dropped into an easy chair and crossed her legs, the left ankle over the right knee, so that her well-fleshed thighs showed all the way to the cleft. “True. But a very small slit. Look.” She reached to her crotch with her two hands and pulled her vulva lips apart.

Tantamount looked more closely. It was true; the vulva was hardly more than a crease, and the vagina seemed to be a pinpoint hole that a hypodermic needle would have had trouble penetrating. “How do you ever manage to have sexual intercourse?”

“That, my dear, is the point: in a normal combat with a male, my anatomy is virtually impenetrable. Of course I could loosen it if I chose, but I will hardly choose to do so tomorrow. I remain angry at your boyfriend.”

“Because he defeated you in fair combat?”

“It wasn’t fair!” the demoness snapped. “He changed weapons in mid-engagement. He screwed on his pipe-cleaner model, then beat me up until I could no longer resist. He raped me!”

Tantamount had to laugh. “Rape a sex demoness? That’s a hyperbolic exaggeration.”

The demoness nodded, putting her lifted foot down and straightening her skirt so that her genital region no longer showed.

“True. But it was a considerable annoyance. Tomorrow I will repay him in kind.”

“You don’t look strong enough to hold him down for a killer fart.”

“I’m not. However I have a strategy that should prevail. I would have used it last time, had he not annoyed me to the point of rage so that I couldn’t think straight.”

This was interesting.

“What did he do?”

“He bit my breast,” she said indignantly. “He chomped my nipple, hard, repeatedly. Then in my distraction he tied me up and drilled my hole with his thin rod. It was an outrage.”

“But as a demon you shouldn’t have felt pain, should you?”

“We don’t need to feel pain, but turn it on for important encounters, as it’s an excellent guide to damage. But it was the barbarism of the act that got to me. No man chomps a breast as lovely as mine!”

“It does seem barbaric,” Tantamount agreed.

“So you will understand why tomorrow you will be fitted with a miniature toothed animal trap that will close on your right nipple after a certain length of time has passed. You will lose the use of that breast for nursing if that trap trips.”

Ouch! But the demoness would do what she chose to do.

“I do understand.”

“Very good. Now make yourself at home. I want you to be pretty for tomorrow.”

The demoness faded out.

It did make sense, Tantamount thought as she nursed Chance. The demoness had a grudge, and this would not only hurt Prior back, as it were, the same way as he had hurt her, it would make him appreciate the horror of Tantamount’s predicament. What was to stop the demoness from destroying the other nipple too? Chance was not yet ready to be weaned, and anyway, she liked nursing him; it provided the kind of closeness she had never before had with another person.

Fortunately Prior had the Spire, and it had proved its effectiveness. He would find a way. She hoped.

She washed Chance and herself, and put on one of the exquisite gowns she found in the closet. It fit her perfectly, as the wall-sized mirror confirmed. Demons did know how to do things when they wanted to. The demoness reappeared.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“There is no need to be defensive. We both know our situations, and what will happen tomorrow. Tonight we can set that aside and be social, if you wish. You do have a choice.”

Tantamount realized that even demons might like to socialize on occasion. “Truce for the evening?”

“Truce,” the demoness agreed, and smiled. The room actually brightened; demons could make things literal when they chose.

Dinner was in a dining hall like that of a major hotel, but there were no waiters. Instead the platters floated in on their trays and settled before them as required. It turned out to be an excellent meal, complete with quality wine and delightful dessert. Tantamount was quite satisfied. So was Chance, sitting in his convenient high chair.

“I must say, you are a quality entertainer.”

The demoness made a wry moue.

“The males insist on it, on occasion, between bouts of sadistic sex. I am expected to conjure the food and clean the dishes. Woman’s work.”

“I’ll help with the dishes.”

The demoness paused, considering. “Very well.”

They repaired to the kitchen, where the used dishes were piled on counters. Tantamount got to work, sorting and scrubbing, and the demoness helped. It was pleasant working together.

“I had understood that demons did not need to eat,” Tantamount said.

“We don’t. But we have few natural pleasures, and food can be one such. We spent several centuries having to eat nothing but ice cream; I was glad to get away from that. The Third Branch didn’t eat; he had neglected to form an alimentary tract, so could not process food well. But I could eat, and prefer it to sex, for an obvious reason.”

“The males have monstrous penises, and you have a very tight vagina,” Tantamount agreed, rather understating the case. “I’m surprised you can manage sex at all.”

“Demon flesh is elastic, and the males enjoy the challenge of a tight closure. They do hammer it in, taking my grimacing for pleasure. Some demons are amorphous, adopting whatever form they prefer at the moment; we EEGS are less so.”

“Eegs?”

“Expressly Endowed Golems, created expressly to guard the Spire from molestation. It was a great shame when we failed that mission; now we mean to win it back. That will save us from abolition by EGG, the Eldest God of the Galaxy, who made us and the Spire, at such time as he discovers our dereliction.”

“So it’s not just vengeance against Prior.”

“Correct. But vengeance is one of the demon pleasures.”

Afterward, the demoness accompanied her to her room. Tantamount nursed Chance again and put him down in the crib for the night. She wasn’t concerned about him being taken from her; the demoness could do that at any time if she chose. She did not seem to be into sadism for its own sake.

“Do you ever?” the demoness inquired, opening her gown to show her beautiful breasts.

This was a new dimension, yet not completely unexpected; the demoness had been surprisingly friendly.

“Once I tried it with my sister, when we were teens in med school, just to see what it was like. I’m heterosexual.”

“So am I. But males can be such jerks.”

“Agreed!” Tantamount removed her gown, hung it up, and stood naked.

The demoness was already bare on the bed. They made love, stroking each other, kissing, and fondling wonderful breasts without biting. The demoness was an experienced and effective lover, not at all violent or insensitive. She used her tongue to caress Tantamount’s clitoris into virtual ejaculation, and reacted similarly to attention to her own miniature. But mainly it was the full-length embracing and intertwining, the ultimate closeness of two beautiful bodies. It was delightful.

“If it should happen that you lose your man tomorrow, and come into my power permanently,” the demoness said, “I hope your bitterness will fade in time and allow you to do this again.”

Tantamount was tempted. She realized now that demons were people too, with some similar feelings. If Prior lost, she would be the continuing captive of this creature, and a positive relationship would surely be preferable to a negative one. Certainly it was a far better prospect than captivity by the First Branch would have been, with his delight in power and humiliation.

“Perhaps so, in time.”

“I would like to learn caring. You could surely teach me, despite my limited capacity for it.”

“I can try.”

The demoness nodded, and faded. Tantamount was left undisturbed for the remainder of the night.

Chapter 23— Second Branch

Prior reported to the castle promptly at noon. It was now only four branches high, having settled one level. The demoness appeared, ravishingly beautiful. But he knew better than to give her any leeway; he had to go for as fast and certain a victory as he could manage.

“We meet again,” the Second Branch said. “I believe you know better than to try that laughing gas on me; my sense of humor is negligible. There is also no need for you to attempt sex with me. This is a different kind of encounter.”

“I’m aware of that,” Prior said tightly. “Where’s Tantamount?”

“Your delightful woman? She remains in good health.”

She gestured, and Tantamount appeared, lovely in a close-fitting gown. Her baby was at her left breast, but there was something obscuring her right breast. It looked like a small reptile.

“True?” he asked her.

“I have not been mistreated,” she said. “But this is a demon lizard whose teeth will slowly close on my breast as time passes, crushing the nipple and destroying its effectiveness for nursing. It will be exceedingly painful.”

“This is what she told you to say?”

“Yes. But it is also true.” He had no doubt of it.

“Let’s get to it, bitch,” he said to the demoness, and stepped into the pentagram, naked.

The demoness joined him, her gown evanescing. She embraced him and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Startled, he braced for a bite, but it turned out to be a straight kiss. Her perfect breasts pressed into his chest, and her groin touched his, causing his penis to react. Her body lifted so that she was his height.

“Hey—I thought you said no sex!”

“Perhaps I changed my mind. I understand you are a good lover. If you press hard and persistently, maybe you can penetrate my tight little pussy.”

His penis was stiffening.

“We’re supposed to be fighting! What kind of trick is this?”

She ran her hands down along his back, cupping his buttocks. “One of us will surely perish by the end of this engagement. Why not glean a bit of pleasure along the way?” Her bottom shifted, allowing his erect member to lodge in her cleft, which was warm and slick.

He couldn’t help himself. He thrust, and the tip of his member did man age to nudge into her aperture. It wasn’t quite as taut as Tantamount’s urethra had been, and was yielding slightly to his urgency. He thrust again, and got it in another inch. Her tight hole was stretching to accommodate him in a way it hadn’t at their prior encounter. Apparently she could let a man in if she chose. But he hardly trusted this.

“What’s the catch?”

“How can there be a catch?” she inquired, kissing his ear. “To win this contest, one of us must get a posterior close to the other’s face. This is not feasible while we are sexually connected.”

His body kept thrusting despite his distrust. He jammed in another inch. Then the orgasm overtook him, and he sent his semen into her close chamber.

“Smartly accomplished,” she murmured. Her firm vagina loosened further, and his pumping member slid in to full depth as it completed its fluid delivery. “You are indeed an apt partner. I am discovering my own climax.” Her body heated, her vagina clenched, and she breathed harder. “Oh, yes, yes!” She found his mouth again for a passionate kiss.

“You didn’t even bite,” he said after a moment.

“I was tempted, believe me. But I wanted the fuck more than the bite, at this moment. Of course I could still form teeth in my cunt and bite your pecker off.”

Prior froze, appalled. She laughed.

“But it’s against the rules for this sort of engagement. Real cunts don’t have teeth, so mine can’t either, or I forfeit the match. Had you going there a moment, didn’t I!”

“You did. I’m sorry I had to do that, then. Biting you, I mean. This is much nicer.”

“Thank you. Sometimes it is indeed possible to mix pleasure with business, however fleetingly.”

He was, amazingly, almost getting to like her. Then he looked past her flaring hair and saw Tantamount wincing.

“The biting lizard!” he exclaimed. “You’re stalling so it can hurt her!”

“Curses, foiled again,” she said, laughing. Suddenly all pressure ceased and he felt his penis dribbling into space. Her center section had dematerialized.

Yet it had been one fine fuck. Furious that he had fallen for this diversion, Prior grabbed her—and his hands passed through her body without resistance. “Huh?”

“I am doing what I should have done a year ago,” she said. “Spot dematerializing so that you can’t manhandle me. But I’m glad we were able to connect before things got serious; there’s something special about mortal sperm.”

“You really wanted the fuck?” he asked as he grabbed again, with similar lack of effect. “You weren’t lying so as to stall me longer?”

“Yes, actually. I knew it would not be feasible after our match was done, so it had to be at the outset. I thank you for a nice event. But now, alas, I must dispatch you.”

She caught his ears and yanked his head down toward her crotch. Prior heard a fart. He yanked back, getting clear.

“No you don’t, bitch!”

“Yes I do, man thing. You can’t pin me, but I can pin you when you get tired.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and leaped up in the manner of a cheerleader, her legs swinging forward. She caught his head between her plush thighs.

He found himself staring into her open cleft, from which a driblet of his seminal fluid leaked. It was a fascinating view; the hole had not yet quite recovered from the stretching he had given it. By similar token, his face was close to her cutely puckered rectum, which now loosened enough to blow out a small but potent fart.

Danger! He held his breath, put his two hands on her knees, and pried them apart. They dematerialized—but that cost them their purchase on him, and she fell down, barely righting herself before hitting the floor.

“Nice ploy, man thing. You made me waste a good fart. But I’ll get you in the end, ha-ha.”

Meanwhile the toothy lizard was slowly biting down on Tantamount’s nipple. He had to finish this soon.

He grabbed her again, and his hands passed through her again. It looked as if he were punching through her breast and out her back, then hooking down to goose her bottom from the inside. Meanwhile she was maneuvering to get that bottom into his face again.

She tripped him. Surprised again, he fell backward to the ground. She leaped on him, her breasts on his crotch, her thighs parting to frame his head. He saw her rectum loosen; she was about to fart, and this time she had him more securely pinned. Because wherever he tried to push her off, she had no substance. She was solid only where she chose to be, and that was in her ass.

Spire, I’m in trouble, he thought.

GOT IT, the Spire gouted.

It let out a windy fart. The demoness held her breath; Prior felt her soft breasts stop heaving against his belly. But this wasn’t the final fart; it was a fixative fart, nullifying her ability to spot dematerialize. Then Prior put his hands on her legs, pushed her over, and got out from under. Quickly he squatted by her now-upturned face and issued the coup-de-fart.

She was still holding her breath. There was a slight wind; it was likely to dissipate the gas before she breathed it. So he put his fingers on her ribs below her breasts and tickled.

“Eeeek!” she giggled, then took a breath, perforce—and popped out of existence.

Prior stood, relieved yet paradoxically also saddened by his victory. The demoness could have been a lot of fun, had she not been his enemy.

He went over to Tantamount. The lizard’s teeth were just starting to prick the flesh of her breast and nipple. He reached for it.

“Don’t touch it!” she said. “It’s primed to chomp hard when touched. That’s why I didn’t dare.”

He pondered briefly. “Get down,” he said. “I’ll have to fart it off.”

She sat on the ground. He aimed his rear at her breast. “Hold your breath.”

Then the Spire let fly with a small addendum. The lizard dropped off, stunned.

“Oh, Prior!” Tantamount said. “Thank you!”

He laughed. “I fart on you, and you thank me.”

“And now I’ll kiss you.” She stood, stepped into his arms, raised her face—and disappeared.

“Tomorrow at noon,” the Third Branch said grimly.

Chapter 24— Third Branch

The Third Branch demon was huge and muscular, but his penis was oddly stubby. “Now what am I going to do with you, cutie mortal, all night while I contemplate my vengeance on your puny man?”

“I suspect you already know,” Tantamount said with resignation. They were in his apartment, which was relatively spare; evidently this demon wasn’t much for residential comforts. She was holding Chance, and knew that again her baby was hostage to her performance.

“I’ll fuck you, of course. You have never had a phallus like mine before.”

“I haven’t seen one like yours before,” she said. “On a humanoid.”

She refrained from mentioning animals. He laughed, not at all insulted, and his stubby member jiggled in and out.

“Then I will demonstrate. Bend over so I can get at your hair-pie.”

She thought of resisting, but knew he would have his way with her regardless. Her recent experience with the demoness had shown her that it was possible to get along with these beings, if she was careful. Sex was nothing, really; she was fully experienced there, especially recently. She turned her back to him and bent forward, presenting her bottom as she glanced back at him.

The demon put forth a gnarled thumb and poked her vulva. “A bit small, but it will do for now.”

Then he brought his penis around and lo, it telescoped in the manner of a stallion, becoming much larger. He put the tip to her crevice, slid it up and down a couple of times, then set it at her vagina and pushed. It was now larger in diameter than her orifice, but that didn’t bother the demon; he simply shoved it in, dilating the opening. The member was still expanding, forcing her tube to expand too. This was, she thought, like birthing a baby, only in reverse, taking an oversized object in.

Then he came, and his hot fluid pressured into her, distending her even more. A baby wasn’t the proper analogy, she realized; a fire hose was. It squeezed out around the member and dripped to the floor.

He let it soak a moment more, then withdrew it.

“Like that,” he said. “Every half hour or so should do it. I haven’t had a mortal woman in a long time; I have some catching up to do.”

“I should think you would want to rest, so as to be fit for your duel tomorrow.”

“This is how I relax, babe. That and flying.”

“Flying? You have a magic carpet too?”

He laughed again. “Come here, honey cunt, you and your tyke. I will make another demonstration.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“But I enjoy it.” He reached out and drew her in. He turned her around so that she faced away from him, his brawny arms around her waist. A thick strap appeared, which he passed down between her legs and up behind her and fastened somewhere.

There was a roaring sound, a gust of wind, and a peculiar odor. Then the demon lifted her, carrying her with him as he leaped toward the ceiling. No, he was flying up, somehow propelled. The strap between her legs jerked taut; she fidgeted, getting it less uncomfortable.

They flew out through a window in the ceiling, then rose above the castle. The roaring sound continued. She looked nervously around. She saw a jet of flaming gas below them; the demon must be wearing a power jet.

No, the flame was issuing from between his legs. From his rectum! This was a phenomenal extended fart!

“You are jet propelled,” she said.

“That I am, luscious tush. Want to know how this came about?”

Actually, she did; she had never imagined something like this. “Yes. It seems to be contrary to ordinary physics. The human system can generate only so much gas at a time; nothing on this order.”

“Humans are puny. I am a demon. I am not bound by mortal limitations.”

The castle was now far below.

“Of course,” she agreed quickly. “How foolish of me to forget. You are more than human.”

She was flattering him; dialogue was cheap.

“I was not always thus,” he said expansively. “For most of my existence I had no asshole at all.”

“Is that possible?” she asked, evincing girlish wonder.

“We golems craft our own bodies, to a considerable extent. But once they are set, they are difficult to modify. Second Branch made her cunt too small, and was stuck with it. I forgot to include an asshole. That didn’t matter, as I didn’t eat, so had nothing to shit. In fact it was an advantage—until that turd Prior Gross showed up.”

“Prior Gross,” she echoed dutifully. “You have a history with him?”

“He raided the Cherry Tree to steal the Spire, the Cosmic Dildo. We defended it from such mortal molestation, but he cheated.”

“Cheated? How can that be?”

“The rule of combat, there, was fuck or be fucked. I was about to fuck him in the ass, but first I thought I’d bite off his stupid phallus. I put my face there—and he fucked me in the nose.”

“The nose!”

“The left nostril. He rammed it up there and shot off his wad before I could even sneeze. All because I had no asshole. What a humiliation!”

“I can imagine,” Tantamount said, suppressing laughter.

“So when I reconstituted this time, in Fartingale, I fixed that omission. I reamed out an ass like no other hole, and backed it up with a gut that could generate a virtual hurricane. And lo, I could fly!”

He swooped around dizzyingly, carrying her and Chance along.

“Magic gas,” she said. “How brilliant.”

“You trying to false-flatter me, mortal piece of ass?”

She gambled on the truth.

“Yes.”

“I like it. Sure, I know you’d rather see me farted to oblivion, but you’re one appealing cunt and I’m satisfied with your game. So keep on playing it and we’ll get along.”

In due course he brought her back to her chamber in the castle.

“Now am I going to have to torture you to make your boyfriend fight?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I will play the game.”

“Okay. Give me another fast fuck.”

She bent over, holding Chance, and he rammed into her vagina again, overflowing it with cream. It was less uncomfortable this time; either she was getting adapted, or he was less forceful. Then he disappeared, leaving her to clean up and forage for food.

But true to his word, in half an hour he was back. Wordlessly she bared her bottom and bent over, accepting his fornication. This continued through the night, but she was able to sleep between times. Certainly it was better than being tortured.

In the morning she fixed herself breakfast, pausing to take the demon’s equine member in again, washed, nursed Chance, and accepted another wash of semen from the demon. It had become a familiar routine she worked around, and not difficult considering that that was all he demanded.

By noon she had been breached ten more times; the demon was indefatigable on his schedule. Other than that he was tolerant and even generous; she had whatever she requested for herself and Chance. It really was no worse than it would have been with the hyper-sexed human contestant.

“You’re a good sport,” the demon told her at noon as his foaming member slid out of her overflowing vagina. “No evasion, no fussing, and you pretend you like me. You are also quite pretty for a mortal.”

“Thank you,” she said as she nursed Chance, who was on a roughly similar schedule.

He touched her with his hand, and suddenly they were outside the castle, facing Prior.

“Are you going to fight me, man thing, or do I have to ram the guts out of your woman?” The demon swung his telescoping member around toward Tantamount, who obligingly flinched.

“I’ll fight,” Prior said grimly. They stepped into the pentagram and grappled. The demon was bigger and stronger, and in a moment he had Prior down and pinned. He oriented his rear on Prior’s face and let out a blast that practically vaporized the man’s head. Tantamount screamed.

But when the smog cleared, Prior was still lying there, unscathed. He stuck out his tongue at the demon.

Bewildered, the demon turned around, brought his ugly visage close to Prior’s head, and peered into his face. “How come you’re still breathing, man thing?”

“Because that isn’t really my face,” Prior’s voice came from the vicinity of his crotch.

“Huh?”

“It’s my posterior. I let out an illusion fart to change my seeming orientation. You farted at my ass, idiot.”

“Oh, no!” The demon jerked back, but too late; Prior’s fart caught him in the mouth and nose and he breathed it all in before he got clear. He vanished.

Tantamount ran gladly to hug Prior. But a dusky, sultry, shapely greenish demoness appeared between them.

“Tomorrow at noon,” she told Prior.

Then Tantamount found herself in the suite of the Fourth Branch, facing a tigress.

Chapter 25— Fourth Branch

Prior stared at the castle that was now just two branches high. On the new ground level was a chamber whose walls were transparent, like those of the Maid-in-Tower tower, and inside was Tantamount facing a tigress.

The animal advanced on her, snarling. Tantamount retreated, backed into the bed, and fell on it as the tiger pounced. She held Chance protectively to her bosom and tried to kick the animal away with her legs. But the tiger wedged its head between them and gaped its jaws to take a huge bite of her crotch. Then, as Tantamount screamed, the tiger’s tongue came out instead and slurpingly licked her vulva.

The tiger’s head turned toward Prior and nodded as the walls turned opaque. He knew what it meant: the Fourth Branch was a shape changer, and was toying with Tantamount so that Prior could see. If he did not show up for the fight tomorrow, that crotch bite could readily become real.

“I’ll be there, never fear,” he said, and turned away. He had defeated the demoness before by getting a good hold on her and hanging on while she madly shifted shapes. He had gotten his penis into her slit, but then she had turned frigidly cold, cooling his necessary ardor. He had prevailed only by a trick: he had faked an orgasm and pissed into her, pretending it was semen. Obviously that wouldn’t work again, despite his recent practice pissing into another woman.

“So how am I going to take her this time?” he asked the Spire as he walked to the local inn where he had farted for room and board.

IMMUNITY, the Spire gouted, and explained. It seemed feasible.

The innkeeper met him at the door. “No more contests,” he said. “You’ve proved you can fart anyone else under the table. Give me something I can use, you goldbricker.”

That gave Prior an idea. “I’ll give you a real gold brick,” he said. “Put out your hands.”

He turned around and dropped his pantaloons.

“You’re going to shit in my hands?” the innkeeper demanded, outraged.

“I’m going to shit a gold brick,” Prior said. “If you don’t want it, someone else surely will.”

He oriented his bottom. Spire, do your stuff. The Spire did. From it, seemingly from Prior’s anus, issued a golden colored mass. It was a moderate turd—of solid solidifying gold.

“Will that do?” he inquired as he covered his ass.

The innkeeper stared at the mass in his hands. He could tell by its heft that it really was gold.

“Oh, yes, for the next month!” He hurried away.

Prior ate and rested well. In the morning he repaired to the castle ahead of time. Tantamount came out to meet him, dressed in a slinky gown rather than the standard farthingale. He much preferred it, and not just because it showed her figure off to advantage.

“Oh, Prior,” she said, rushing into his embrace and kissing him. “It was awful! She changed into a tigress and threatened me!”

“And licked your vulva,” he said.

“You know?” she asked amazed.

“She kept the walls translucent so I could see. She wasn’t threatening you so much as warning me.”

“Oh, of course.”

“How come you’re out here alone?”

“Believe me, she’s watching. She knows I can’t escape; she’s got Chance.”

That figured. Tantamount would not go anywhere without her—their—baby. So the branch knew it was safe to let her out for a while. Yet it seemed unusually generous of the demoness to give him even this much joy of the woman he loved. What was she planning?

Still, whatever the catch, he was glad of it. “She didn’t—do anything to you?”

“No, just frightened me. Actually none of them have been really bad, except maybe the First Branch, who let me think I was escaping.”

Her body moved seductively against him.

“How could you think that?” He stroked her shapely bottom.

“He let me sneak out and steal a magic carpet. I flew to your friend Smellie in Nude-on-Toilet, and she agreed to help me. Then it turned out the carpet was the demon; I had not escaped at all. He made me sit on his spike all the way back.”

“His spike?”

“His big phallus formed in the center of the carpet and penetrated me. I had no choice. So I nursed Chance. The demon called it suck and fuck.”

“Oh.” He hated to admit it, even to himself, but that sounded sort of sexy.

“The Second Branch was actually nice to me. The Third Branch demanded sex every half hour, but apart from that he left me alone. The Fourth Branch left me alone, after that first scare. We had an interesting dialogue, and I learned some things. The door was open when you came, so I came out to meet you. But she couldn’t let Chance come with me.”

Prior nodded. “I can’t figure why she’s letting us have this time together. There’s bound to be a catch.”

“I think she wants me to distract you so you aren’t properly prepared for your encounter with her.”

Prior looked at the watch he had won in a farting match. The hands looked like penises, and the numbers were the spread legs of eager women.

“We still have five minutes until noon. Is it okay to—?”

“Yes, Prior, yes!” she breathed, melting against him. Then she tugged him to a soft section of the ground and drew him down with her.

He had her skirt up and his eager member in her without delay. She kissed him, facilitating it. She was hot and slick, completely ready for his entry.

“Oh, Tantamount!” he said as his passion surged.

“Oh, Prior!” She wrapped her bare legs around him, clasping him close. He thrust, and thrust again, climaxing powerfully, and she spasmed with him. Then, as the last of his semen flowed, she wrapped her arms around him, tightened her legs, and suddenly squeezed him so tight that the gas in his colon ripped out in a loud fart.

“What?” he gasped, surprised.

“Got you, lover,” she said, and morphed into the demoness.

“It was you all the time!” he exclaimed, dismayed.

“Yes, idiot. And now you have no fart for me.” She disconnected, slid out from under him, spun in place, spread her legs, and let fly a deadly fart to his face.

Prior’s gaze went blank as his body went limp. She had caught him right when he was inhaling.

“You thought I would just let your wench out to give you joy? You should have looked that gift ass in the mouth.”

She peered at him.

“You’re down but not out; I’ll have to finish the job.”

She got to her feet, straddled him, squatted right over his face, and let a second fart directly into his mouth.

He put his two hands on her two buttocks and shoved her forward. Off balance, she flopped down on him, her face plowing into his crotch.

“You faker!” she cried.

He blew out a formidable fart. It caught her in the face before she could turn it away. She tried to hold her breath, but he stabbed her crack with a finger, reaming her hole and forcing a gasp. She had to inhale—and she was gone.

He sat up as she dissipated into mist and floated away, like a cloud of spent gunpowder.

Tantamount—the real one—came from the castle, carrying her baby. “Oh Prior, I thought she had beaten you!”

“Not quite,” he said, standing up. “The Spire made an immunity fart so that I could withstand her effort for a while, and of course it never runs out of gas, so I was armed when she thought I was farted out.”

Then, womanlike, she was angry. “But did you have to fornicate with her like that? You looked as if you really enjoyed it.”

“I did,” he said. “I thought she was you. I forget about her being a shape changer. Until the end.”

“Oh. I forgot she assumed my likeness. In that case, I forgive you.”

She reached out to him—

And the Fifth Branch interceded.

Chapter 26—Fifth Branch

Tantamount found herself and Chance in the top stage of the castle, which now was the ground level. Before her stood the dread Fifth Branch, the final and most formidable demon guardian of the Spire.

This was definitely male, a full-grown eeg seven feet tall with a two foot long perpetually erect penis. It was reminiscent of a crossbreed between a griffin and a goblin, with more than a dash of devil, with snaggle tusks projecting from where its mouth wasn’t, a hooked beak without nostrils, saberclaws on its hands and feet, barbed wings, and a spiked tail. It had metallic upthrusting animal ears with serrated edges, and bright red eyes that looked painted on. Overall, it was the most horrendous creature she had seen in some time.

He—this grotesque thing was obviously male—stepped toward her. She retreated, affrighted. The monstrous phallus jetted a taffy-colored string of gism that splatted across her free arm and hip. She tried to brush it off, but it clung elastically, binding her arm to her side.

Tantamount was not stupid, particularly about penises. She realized that this was a weapon of restraint, so the demon could render her helpless without otherwise harming her. She was imprisoned here anyway. So she got smart, and negotiated.

“Demon, don’t tie me up! I need to be free to care for my baby.”

She lifted Chance with her other arm.

“I know I am in your power for a day, as I was with the four other Branches. I got along with them, and I can get along with you. Leave me free, within this chamber, and I will do whatever else you want, without trying to fight you.”

The demon paused, considering. Then the massive phallus swung grandly around, like a nuclear cannon, to orient directly on her.

“Please!” she cried. “I’m pretty sure all you want is sex, and it looks impossible, but maybe it isn’t. The Fourth Branch was a shape changer; she was teaching me how to do it, and I was learning a little. I can’t change into a tiger or a bird, but I think I can modify my body somewhat, slowly. Maybe I can make my vagina big enough to accommodate you, so you can have sex with me. I’ll even pretend to like it. I’ll kiss you and make ecstatic groans. I doubt you have had full sex with many mortal women. Just let me be free.”

The phallus made a correction of azimuth and shot out another gout of fluid. It splatted on the taffy that was pinning her arm—and the taffy dissolved, freeing her. The demon had understood and agreed!

“Good enough,” she said, giving Chance a last nursing and setting him down in the nearby crib for a nap. “Let me focus. I can’t do it instantly, but in a few minutes there should be progress.” She concentrated on her vagina, willing it to grow.

It worked. She felt the tube of it expanding, displacing other organs of her body, lengthening and thickening. It swelled up into her abdomen, into her midriff, and pushed up between her lungs, past her heart, and on to the base of her throat. She felt queasy as her body adjusted, making way, but things continued to function. As the demoness had explained, shape changing was topological; aspects could be stretched or compressed without changing the essential nature of the body. Of course it could be a challenge to assume the eight legged form of a giant spider; that required greatly extending some toes to resemble legs, and not all the eyes were operative. But a change from the likeness of one human being to another was elementary. This was in between: an adjustment of the size of one portion, and shifting of position of others. The demon waited patiently, his member never slackening. Finally she had it. She glanced at the full length mirror, and saw that her outline was unchanged; she retained her hourglass configuration. It was only the inside that had changed, and that at this point was a mere flattened tube.

“I believe I’m ready, to whatever extent is possible,” she said. “At any rate, it will have to do. Now you can have sex with me.”

The demon stepped forward, put his hands on her hips, lifted her up into the air, drew her in, and set her crotch on his member. She felt the hot tip of it nudging her cleft, and hoped she had made herself big enough. He let her weight drop, slowly, and that carried it down on the huge hot pole. She thought of the impalement stake the First Branch had set her on. But now she was ready for it, she hoped, and this one was rounded, not pointed.

She felt the phallus pushing in. Her flesh stretched around it, like an elastic condom, giving it room without any to spare. The great dome of it distended the aperture, denting it inward. Could she stretch enough? It seemed to be sticking.

Then there was a jet of warm taffy, or maybe petroleum jelly, and her hole became slick with lubricant. The phallus slid in, like a piston, following the greased channel, opening it up. She glanced down and saw that the member was half a foot deep, but at least three quarters of the shaft was still to come, as it were. She wriggled her torso, spreading the juice, and slid down farther, passing the halfway mark. Her belly was swelling with the size of it, sacrificing her wasp waist, but there was no pain; maybe the lubricant had an anesthetic property too.

The demon continued to lower her, and his member shoved on up in side her. She felt it passing her intestines, her kidneys, her liver, her heart, her lungs. Her breasts became more prominent, forced outward by the mass in her chest. Then, just as it reached the limit and threatened to block her throat, she felt the base of the phallus come up against her vulva. It was all in!

She sighed with relief, and felt her lungs shifting around the giant pole within her. She had accommodated the colossus. Two feet long, five or six inches thick, a genuine monster, encompassed. It was a singular victory.

But the climax was still to come. What horrific eruption was likely to come from such a gargantuan member? She rested in place, her legs dangling, feet not touching the floor, awaiting the culmination.

The phallus heated and swelled a bit more, readying its delivery. She felt a tremor down in the scrotum, maybe only a two on the rectum scale, but suggestive of the blast to come. It rumbled in the channel, and the organ became yet more turgid. At last the fluid surged out with such lava-like force that she was lifted a foot, sliding up the shaft. Then she settled again, pneumatically, as the flow diminished, and her weight pressed it out to drool onto the floor.

But that was only the half of it. The moment the turbulent elixir struck her inner flesh, the wondrous delight of it radiated outward through her body, transforming it into a vessel of transcendent joy. Her heart and lungs seemed to function more efficiently, her breasts fairly glowed with enhanced sex appeal, and her head became marvelously clear. As the substance coursed downward, her guts and kidneys shared the joy, and her vagina became a column of rapture.

“Oh, demon,” she gasped. “I never had an orgasm like that!” She lifted her face and managed to reach his face, kissing him on the tusked chin. “I didn’t have to fake anything.”

But all things had to end, and though the phallus remained rigid, the pleasure slowly faded as the ejaculation lost its freshness. The demon put his hands on her hips and lifted her off, inch by inch and foot by foot, until her crevice cleared the divine pediment.

She staggered to the bed and flopped onto it, driblets of the demon’s semen still leaking from her cleft. She lay there, recovering from an experience that had become far more rewarding than she had expected. She had taken in quadruple the ordinary length, and had quadruple the pleasure.

She slept, delightfully exhausted. At one point she woke, discovering Chance with her, nursing. The demon must have brought him, and made no further demand on her. It just might be that the experience had been as fulfilling for him as for her, and he needed no further contact.

In the morning she got up and washed, dressed, and ate while nursing Chance. This apartment, like the others, was well appointed; everything she needed was there.

She poked an exploratory finger into her vagina and found that it had reverted to its normal configuration. That was just as well; she didn’t need a two foot long vagina when not having sex. However, she suspected that she would be able to lengthen it again more rapidly at need; she had established the template.

The demon reappeared. Oops, she might have reverted too soon. She put Chance down and indicated her body. “Do you wish another session?”

He shook his head no. It seemed that once was enough, and he was just checking in on her.

“I’m fine,” she said, realizing that he was the strong silent type, having no actual mouth orifice. “You are a good host.”

He nodded, and turned away. But she found she couldn’t leave it at that. She went after him and stood before him. “Lift me up so I can reach your face.”

He did so, and she kissed him on the mouth region, between the tusks. “You were great last night, Branch Five. We really must do it again some time.” She had found that it paid to flatter the demons, but what she said was true. It had been a truly transcendent experience.

He set her down and departed. She had the rest of the morning to her self.

At noon Prior arrived, ready for the final challenge. Tantamount related to him, of course; he was indeed the right man for her, apart from being the father of her child. This whole business of the tower and demon combats had satisfied her. In time she would surely come to love him. But she was sorry that the demons had to be dispatched. They were not evil, merely trying to do their job, which was to recover and guard the Spire. Even the mean-spirited First Branch had that useful magic carpet form, and he hadn’t abused her once she accepted his persistent phallus. In fact it had been an interesting way to travel; his penis, like the others, had radiated a certain pleasure into her body.

She was allowed to bring Chance out and witness the event. Apparently once she had committed to indulging him, the demon trusted her and gave her full freedom. That suggested an underlying decency she appreciated.

Prior and the demon entered the pentacle. They grappled. The demon lifted the man up and shoved his face at the end of the perpetually erect phallus. That would be where he farted from, of course; the demon had no other orifice. She saw that Prior couldn’t get his posterior into place; his whole body was in the air.

The demon’s fundament quivered as he readied his emission. Tantamount held her breath. Prior needed to break this hold in a hurry or he would be farted into oblivion.

Prior put his mouth on the slit of the penis. What was he doing? That would wipe him out the moment the gas emerged.

Then the demon staggered and disappeared. Prior dropped to the ground, managing to land on his feet.

“What happened?” Tantamount asked, astonished.

“I put the Spire in my throat,” Prior explained. “I farted before he did.”

Amazed, she had to laugh. So obvious, yet she and the demon had missed it.

“Oh, Prior, you’re so clever!” She ran up and kissed him.

“Now we can go home and get married.”

“Not so fast.”

She turned. There were all five of the Cherry Tree Branches standing around them.

Chapter 27—Three Curses

Prior stared. “But I abolished you!” he said somewhat dully.

“Listen, shit for brains,” the ugly First Branch said. “After the way you hoodwinked us on Mount Icecream, we resolved not to be caught that way again.”

“Yet despite your unprepossessing appearance,” the shapely Second Branch said, “we found you to be a satisfying sexual partner, so we decided to salvage you.”

“So we made a plan,” the grotesque Third Branch said, his stubby telescoping penis jiggling. “We resolved that should we discover ourselves to be on the verge of defeat, we would invoke an escape mechanism.”

“Thus avoiding destruction,” the voluptuous Fourth Branch said, shifting rapidly through several animal forms. “Thus we deceived you by decamping rather than dissolving.”

The monstrous ever-rigid phallus of the Fifth Branch, the full grown eeg, twitched. It spurted a thin line of taffy as it wiggled. The taffy landed on the ground and spelled out a message in script: In short, we cheated.

“But that’s not fair!” Prior protested.

“Yeah?” the first Branch asked belligerently.

“So what are you going to do about it, loser?”

“I’ll put you away again,” Prior retorted with obviously false bravado.

“All of us at once?” the Third Branch inquired with a warty nosed sneer.

“Yet it need not be an arduous confinement,” the Fourth Branch said with a truly lovely smile.

“My sister and I will use you for frequent sex, and our brothers will have similar use for your girlfriend. All you have to do is agree.”

“I hope you don’t agree,” the First Branch said. “Then we’ll have a pretext to rape both of you until your holes turn inside out.”

Prior looked at Tantamount.

“This is awkward,” she said. “But faced with their reneging, I must say that it is not hard to get along with them, if you don’t fight them. They are fair minded, for demons, and if you give them what they want, they are tolerant and even generous in other respects.”

“But all they want is sex and the Spire!”

She nodded. “What is your point?”

“I can’t abide letting them win by cheating. It just isn’t right.”

“Your sentiment becomes you. But unless you have a way to enforce your victories, we must be practical.”

Prior sought better advice. “Spire, what can we do?”

“I doubt the Spire can help you now,” the Second Branch said. “It is our purpose to keep and protect the Spire. It is our reason for being.”

She smiled and stroked her luscious outline. “Really, Prior, we are offering you a reasonable alternative. We’ll even allow you to have some sex with your girlfriend when we aren’t using the two of you.”

“Voyeurism can be fun,” the Fourth Branch agreed, making her voluptuous flesh quiver.

Meanwhile the Spire made a small gout in Prior’s mouth. YOU CAN’T OVERPOWER THE CHEATING EEGS. THE ONLY CHANCE IS THE MAGIC FART.

A magic fart? We’ve been using them all along.

THE

THE MAGIC FART. THAT WILL SUMMON EGG. BUT THAT’S DANGEROUS.

I don’t care what it is or who it calls. If it solves this problem, I’m for it. Loose the Magic Fart!

YOUR FOOLISH WISH IS MY COMMAND. AIM ME AT THE SKY.

Prior tilted his head back and opened his mouth so that the tip of the

Spire had access to the sky.

“Look out!” the Third Branch cried. “He’s really going for the Magic Fart!”

All five demons pounced on Prior. But the Spire was already loosing the Fart. It powered out of his mouth like the hiss of a jet engine, making a lurid burning column in the sky, expanding as it went.

The demons landed on Prior and bore him to the ground. The First Branch had one arm, the Third Branch the other arm, and the Fifth Branch his legs. The sultry Second Branch’s tight cleft was in his face, and he felt the cool plush bottom of the dusky Fourth Branch on his crotch. They had overpowered him. But the Fart had been loosed, and was on its way to summon EGG.

“Piss, poop, and damnation!” the First Branch swore. “The thing is out. It will accelerate to E=MC cubed.”

“It will scorch Earth’s atmosphere and warm the globe five degrees,” the Second Branch said, her petite vulva quivering with horror. Indeed, the ambient temperature already seemed warmer. “And that’s before it gets its second wind.”

“It will blow the corona off the sun as it passes,” the Third Branch said. “Before it gets its third wind.”

“And finally lodge in the very center of the galaxy,” the Fourth Branch said, taking Prior’s stiffening penis into her eager vagina. “Which it will solidly plug.”

“Which should get the attention of the Eldest God of the Galaxy,” Tantamount said.

“Now if you demons will kindly let my man up, maybe we can make ourselves presentable for his arrival.”

The demons hastily let Prior go, though not before the Spire had tickled Second’s vagina with a thin jet of laughing gas, making her giggle, and Fourth had evoked a driblet of pleasure from Prior’s captive penis.

“Now you were giving us the choice between cooperation or rape,” Tantamount said to the demons. “What will you offer us to intercede for you when EGG comes?”

The demons were obviously shaken, fearing the wrath of EGG. “Absolute servile loyalty and service,” First said.

“Sex, whenever and however either or both of you want it,” Second said.

“And information,” the Third Branch said. “Beginning with this: you are in danger too, but there is a way out for all of us.”

“Ask for the Punishment of the Three Curses,” Fourth said.

Fifth squirted script. And apply your curses to others, not yourself.

Tantamount turned to Prior. “Does that make sense?”

“Does it?” Prior asked the Spire.

YES, IF USED INTELLIGENTLY.

Then all became perhaps moot, as an incredible effulgence formed around them. This coalesced into a giant scintillating man, flanked by a woman so luscious it was difficult to gaze directly at her. The five demons fell to the ground, groveling. This was evidently EGG, the Eldest God of the Galaxy.

“Welcome, O EGG,” First quavered.

“And Favored Concubine of the Moment,” Second breathed.

“Cut the crap. Who abused the Spire?” EGG demanded, assuming a less effulgent aspect.

“I did,” Prior said, as boldly as he could manage. “I demand the Punishment of the Three Curses.”

EGG considered. “That could be interesting. Very well, name your curses.”

PHRASE YOUR DESIRES NEGATIVELY, the Spire warned.

“Shut up, dildo,” EGG snapped. “You have proved to be more trouble than you’re worth. I’ll abolish you after destroying this human miscreant and the errant eegs.”

That gave Prior the hint. “My first curse is on the Spire itself, for obeying an unworthy mortal human man. Abolition is too good for it. Instead it should be forced to serve the lowliest of creatures, a mortal human woman. That will truly make it wish it had never been made. Send it to Oubliette Emdee, to answer to her every ridiculous whim.”

EGG nodded. “I like that. Done.” And the Spire was abruptly gone from Prior’s throat.

“My second curse is on these five expressly endowed golems, who failed to properly guard the Spire,” Prior continued. “Destruction is too good for them, also. They should be reduced to at least as lowly service as the Spire. Bind them to another mortal woman, to perform exactly as she orders, no matter how degrading. To this woman here, Tantamount Emdee.”

EGG nodded again. “It is fitting. Done.”

The five demons crawled to Tantamount’s vicinity.

“We are duly appalled,” Third whispered.

The Favored Concubine frowned, not entirely fooled. Prior took a breath. So far so good—but could he save himself? He had to gamble.

“My third curse is on you, EGG.” EGG inflated, and small lightning jags radiated from his eyeballs.

“What What?”

“Because it was your inattention that allowed the eegs and Spire to go astray,” Prior continued doggedly.

“You must do penance by renouncing any further vengeance against any of these parties, returning Earth to normal temperature, restoring the sun’s corona, and unplugging the galactic black hole before it blows the galaxy apart. In addition you must spend a few hours away from your Favored Concubine.”

Here the Concubine frowned dangerously. “You must treat a mortal woman as you would the Concubine, though she be not a hundredth as beautiful.”

The Concubine’s frown faded. “And grant that mortal wretch a nice legacy: fulfilling her most foolish wish.”

“Ludicrous!” EGG exclaimed.

But the Concubine touched his arm. “It is fitting,” she murmured dulcetly.

Before EGG could protest further, Prior continued: “The woman is Smellie, a whore of the village of Nude-on-Toilet.”

EGG nodded. “Done.”

He vanished. That left just the Favored Concubine.

“You’re rather clever,” she murmured to Prior. “And you’re cute. One day I may come to you for a tryst.” Then she too vanished.

That was it.

“Well done, Prior,” Tantamount said. “There are indeed worthwhile qualities in you I did not properly appreciate before.”

She turned to the demons. “Prepare the castle as it was, for our use this night, and stand by for further directions.”

“We hear and obey, O honored mistress,” the First Branch said, bowing. He had clearly figured out the new pecking order. The castle appeared, as it had first been, with five stories.

“Come, dear,” Tantamount said to Prior. “We have a night to celebrate.”

“Just us, I hope.”

“Just us for now. In the future, you may divert yourself with the demonesses and the succubus too if you wish, and even the concubine if she shows up, while I am with the demons. So we don’t get bored with each other. Fair enough?”

An open marriage, with her as the centerpiece. What more could he ask?

“Fair enough.”

“But it may take us some time to get bored,” she said, kissing him.

It was more than a night in the castle, blissful beyond belief, but in due course they got on the magic carpet and flew to Nude-on-Toilet.

“Look at that!” Prior exclaimed as they passed the village statue. “Now it looks just like Smellie!”

Smellie’s house was fancier than it had been. She came out to welcome them, now a lovely woman, as the demons made themselves scarce.

“Micro! Veil! You’ll never believe what happened.”

“We saw the statue,” Prior said.

“Yes, I had this strange wonderful visitor, and we spent a remarkable night together. I swear, pleasure radiated out from his divine member! Then in the morning he departed, and I discovered the statue. They had made me the new Mistress of the Village. My utterly foolish dream came true after all! Can you imagine that?”

“Actually, we can,” Tantamount said. “You are a deserving person.”

Smellie eyed Prior. “Ordinarily I would insist on being your host tonight; it’s one of my duties. But with a woman that beautiful beside you, you won’t be interested.”

“No problem,” Tantamount said as she nursed Chance. “We’ll both be with him tonight, for the sake of variety.”

And as Prior found himself delightfully in bed with two beautiful and attentive women, an odd thought occurred. He recollected the Magic Fart.

“I hope EGG remembered to unplug the galactic black hole.”

“It could get complicated, if he forgot,” Tantamount agreed. “There could be a cosmic stink.”

Then she and Smellie set about making Prior forget about everything but the two of them.