He wondered again why a sopath should desire contact with any souler. It seemed that even though she lacked a soul, she missed it, and touching him meant she was also touching his soul. Sexual intimacy would represent an even closer touch.
“This is nice out in the country,” Clark remarked from in back, evidently looking around. “Will you let us run around and play, father?” Something the children had no intention of doing. The family was staying close together.
“If you really want to, son.”
They remained on red alert. All of them understood that there was a vicious animal in their midst that only looked like a lovely young woman. Nefer had educated them well in that respect.
They parked in the hills below a wooded slope. Autopsy led him up to a small cave. The grotto was a quiet chamber overgrown with moss. “I don’t let anyone else come here,” she said. “It’s mine. I think the fruities knew of it, because I’ve found some of their trinkets here, but they didn’t mess it up. Maybe they liked the high.” She breathed deeply. “Feel it.”
They breathed deeply. There was a certain indefinable odor, not unpleasant, but it did nothing for Abner and evidently not for Clark. The girls, however—Bunty, Nefer, and Dreda—soon were truly appreciating it. “There is something,” Bunty murmured.
Abner looked at her. She was almost glowing, and her breasts seemed to be pushing against the cloth of her shirt, accentuating her sex appeal. She gazed at him with a certain barely-muted passion that made him want to have sex with her right there where she stood. He had a burgeoning erection that he suspected was partly her appearance and partly her subtle odor reaching his internal triggers.
“You feel it too,” Autopsy said wisely.
Abner looked at her, and saw the same sexual passion, unmuted. Then he looked at Nefer, and it was there too. Even little Dreda looked hungry for something. But not Clark, who looked uneasy about the kind of stares the girls were giving him. He could be having a sexual rush that he did not know how to handle. Abner sympathized.
“This is an aphrodisiac environment,” Abner said. “That turns on females, who it seems then turn on males with their pheromones or whatever. This explains a little, but not enough.”
“The moss,” Bunty said. “Maybe there’s fungus or lichen, with spores that act like pheromones, turning on people. But I’m not sure why, unless it’s simply a remarkable coincidence.”
“If it is restricted to a special environment, like a cave,” Abner said, “it could have trouble propagating. It could send spores out on the wind, but it might be more efficient to use an animal host, the way many plants use bees.”
“Flowers don’t make bees sexy,” Bunty said. “They provide them with sweet food as an inducement. Then their spores or equivalent get carried along when the bees travel.”
“But something that made human females like it, might then be able to spread as they interacted with others,” Abner said, working it out. “If the spores are delicate, needing a warm moist environment, sex could be a way to transfer them safely.”
“How about rabies?” Clark asked, edging toward the cave exit. “That makes animals really mad, and they bite and spread it in their spit.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Abner agreed. “If the spores emulated pheromones and made the host not mad but sexually turned on, that would do it.”
“What about no VD?” Nefer asked. Her eyes were wide, her breathing was fast and her mouth wet; she stood with her legs spread as if ready to accommodate intimacy. It was hard to believe she was only seven years old; she seemed to be suffering a genuine sexual arousal.
“A really sharp infection would try to keep a host healthy,” Abner said. “So it might fight off other infections, and maybe in the process pregnancy also, since its purpose is to maximize its opportunities to spread. It might want the area of contact, the sex organs, to be reserved for it alone.”
“That would explain a lot,” Autopsy said. “When I first came here I was six years old and ordinary. But soon I began developing, and I really got interested in sex, and men really got interested in me.”
“The fruities!” Nefer said. “They must have found this grotto, and discovered how it made their women sexy without babies. Only they wanted babies. So they got the hell out of here to avoid temptation.”
“That could certainly explain their abrupt departure,” Bunty agreed. “There’s no fanatic like a religious fanatic.”
Abner glanced again at Bunty, whose measurements seemed to have expanded. He suspected that only her strong interest in fathoming the erotic mystery of the grotto kept her from trying to get him alone for phenomenal passion. “We need to get samples of those spores, or whatever it is in the air here,” he said. “It just might be the perfect contraceptive.”
“If you want to drop the birth rate,” Bunty said, “Give women a contraceptive that not only protects them from VD, but also enhances their sexual desire and allure. They’ll use it often, and have no babies, regardless of their religious strictures. Sex appeal is the average woman’s real religion, because of the power it can give her over men.”
“We may just have our answer,” Abner said, excited. “Take samples to a laboratory, isolate the active ingredients, manufacture, package, and distribute them as a turn-on sexiness pill. We wouldn’t even have to mention its contraceptive aspect, to avoid religious feedback. People would use it regardless.”
“Samples?” Autopsy asked, frowning. This was it seemed not part of her agenda.
“Sections of the moss, the air, the earth, any water here,” he explained. “To get them analyzed in a chemical laboratory. To find out how this stuff works. To solve the population problem, and stop the births of more sopaths.”
“What’s in it for me?”
And of course she didn’t care about the possible good for the world. She had her own price.
“Persuade her,” Bunty said abruptly. “We’ll go search the motor. We should have some jars there for samples.” She glanced at the children and Nefer, and the four of them left the cave.
Abner realized that Bunty had had more than enough of the erotic arousal fostered by the grotto and needed to get herself and the girls out of it immediately. It wasn’t that she had any objection to sex, but that this artificial promotion of lust was not appropriate to the family setting. She was probably not keen on exposing Clark to the attention of aroused girls, either. Nefer was behaving, but in that environment she might see about seducing the boy, and Clark was surely willing.
Then he remembered her words: “Persuade her.” Bunty was not merely extricating herself and the children, she was giving him leave to pay Autopsy’s price, so they could get the samples and depart before the day finished. As she had said before, she would put him into bed with an ardent sopath if that was what it took to solve the larger sopath problem once and for all. This just might be that opportunity. Should he take it? Intellectually he realized it might make sense, but emotionally he felt it could be a bad mistake. This was a remorseless sopath!
“Well, now,” Autopsy said. “You know what I want, Abner.” She opened her blouse.
He was wary, as he had been of her abrupt capitulation the day before. Yet if they got the samples they could be rapidly done with Sauerkraut. Was it worth it? The potential reward was huge, but he didn’t trust her.
She gave him no time to temporize. She threw off her blouse, baring her fine breasts. She wore no bra, being so well formed that she didn’t need it. “We have what, maybe five minutes? Time enough. Let’s get to it. Take off your pants.” She inhaled and exhaled. It was compelling.
Was this conveniently sudden? What was her angle? Yet her sex appeal was phenomenal and his body was responding strongly. It was hard to fight his burgeoning desire. Pheromones were almost certainly turning him on. Still, he tried again. “I really don’t think—”
“You don’t need to think, Abner.” She drew off her skirt. She wore no panties. Yes, she had come prepared, knowing the effect
of the grotto, and he distrusted that while being strongly turned on by it.
“If this proves to be the answer we seek, then I will consider having a—a relationship with you. But not right now. We have other things to do.”
“Right now or nothing,” she said. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.” She stepped close and put her arms around him.
Yes, there had to be pheromones, because her closeness was instantly arousing his passion despite his misgiving. Still he tried to demur, realizing that to yield would be playing into her hands. “There will be time enough later. Right now I want to learn more about this moss.”
She drew herself close, lifted on tiptoes, and kissed him. The impact was potent. Suddenly his desire was overwhelming. It was like a dam bursting asunder. He kissed her back, no longer caring that he would probably be safer kissing an anaconda.
Then she was opening his fly to bring out his rampant member. She hauled herself up, then let herself down, and his penis was nudging into her eager cleft. She was thoroughly experienced; she knew how to make the connection no-handed.
In a moment he was plunging into her as they stood, her weight coming down to make the penetration complete and very firm. She kissed him again as he thrust. His ejaculation was immediate, and seemed to last forever, spurting all that he had into her body. There was nothing in the whole world as important as that phenomenal connection.
Yet that was only a portion of it. Autopsy’s urgency and joy of the occasion seemed to more than match his own, maybe because she suffered no guilt. It was as if each of his pulses was a wash of sheer bliss for her, enhancing her own continuing orgasm. As if she were drawing passion from him and savoring it like fine wine, which further enhanced his own rapture. Her vagina was rhythmically milking his member, drawing every possible bit of pleasure along with the fluid.
It was the most remarkable sex he had ever had, qualitatively distinguished from routine sex. It was savagely addictive. If regular sex was marijuana, this was cocaine.
She had him. All he wanted was her favor, in the hope of further fulfillment like this. She had mentioned how she controlled the souler men of Kraut by dispensing her favor sparingly and giving sex once a week per man, if he behaved. That had seemed inadequate to control grown men. Abner understood now that it wasn’t. She had imprinted on him a new desire that could never be completely satisfied. He wanted the ambiance of her nearness, the pleasure of doing her bidding, the delight of her passing favor. The rapture of her pheromones. Exactly as her other men did.
His copious ejaculation dribbled to its conclusion and his member started softening, but the pleasure of contact with her remained. It wasn’t limited to sex. His phenomenal orgasm had been magnified because it was for her, giving her pleasure. It was becoming a memory, but his delight in touching her remained. He was utterly besotted with her. She had turned the tables on him, fascinating him the way he had hoped to fascinate her. He had become her love slave.
She slid off his member and dropped to the floor. “Now you are mine,” she said, satisfied as she found a cloth in a cubbyhole and mopped the semen welling from her cleft. “You may still try to fight it, but the hook is in, and you will inevitably succumb.”
Abner did not answer, because he could not refute it. She had conquered him, and knew it. His penis was spent, and was going limp, but already he was thinking of the next time he might have her. Whatever she wanted of him he would do, for the promise of that next fulfillment. She was simply the most remarkable female creature he could imagine.
This was the trap she had made for him. To bring him here, isolate him, and overwhelm him sexually. Simple, straightforward, and infernally effective. He had walked right into it. Had her nearness, her hand holding, quietly compelled him so that he had not really resisted? She had made him react the day before, tempting him, setting him up for this more serious effort. And Bunty, thinking that one indulgence would satisfy him, had let him do it. She had miscalculated too, underestimating the thoroughness of the desire. Autopsy was not the child Nefer; she was a fully developed and competent woman, buttressed by the pheromones.
“You will not be traveling again,” Autopsy said as she completed her cleanup. “You will remain here, and service me often, because with you it’s not a duty but a pleasure. I simply had to capture you, because you’re the most man I have encountered. It will take me some time to tire of you.” As a sopath she had no inclination to relate to his feelings; she had taken him prisoner and now was establishing the routine.
“I have a family,” he said weakly.
She shrugged. “We’ll find a use for it, I’m sure. Except for the sopath. She put a knife to my throat; she must die.”
And he dared not argue, because Bunty was surely next on Autopsy’s list of nuisances. He still loved Bunty, but would not be able to protect her from Autopsy’s wrath. He had to do his utmost to ensure that wrath was never aroused. If that meant servicing her frequently, as she put it, well, he was eager to do exactly that.
Autopsy nodded, not yet dressing. She was letting him gaze at her perfect body, cementing his desire for it. He knew that if he pleased her, he would see that body often, and sometimes touch it. “I see you understand. Behave, and I will treat you well.”
Behave. Do her bidding without question. Then she would reward him with her favor, and sometimes with sex. She was his mistress in both senses of the word. He felt his penis thickening again. Yet at the same time he hated the trap he had fallen into. He was bound and gagged, his personal will overridden by hers. He had to break out, yet knew he could not.
There was the sound of an explosion outside. They both hurried to the cave opening and looked out.
There below was the blasted motor home, with an ugly roiling cloud of smoke rising from it. “Bunty!” Abner cried in horror.
“Something must have happened,” Autopsy said, unperturbed. “Maybe someone thought I was in there, and tried to take me out. Too bad for your family.”
Abner stared at her. “You arranged this! You set it up. You got me alone in the grotto, distracted by sex, while they went down to the vehicle you knew your minions had booby-trapped!”
She shrugged. “And what if I did? They were impediments anyway. It was the sopath I was after. If the others went in with her, well, they were collateral damage. Now I have you all to myself, without complications.”
Abner had been overwhelmed by sex. Now a different emotion surfaced: the shock of grief translating rapidly to outrage. “I said I’d kill you if you harmed my family.”
She smiled, facing him with her ideal naked body almost glowing. “Oh? Maybe you did. What are you going to do, Abner, with no hot poker handy? Fuck me to death?” She glanced at his penis, which was stirring.
She had conquered him, but had overplayed her hand. Now his sick fury overrode his desire. “I’ll rape you with cold steel.” He drew his knife.
She laughed. “Do it. I’m calling your bluff, and will punish you for it later.” She dropped to the mossy floor and spread her legs wide. “Here’s the place, Abner. Put it in there!” She held her labia apart, exactly as Nefer had when they first interacted, only in this case it supercharged his returning desire. He was desperate to get into that aperture, to pump out whatever fluid remained in him, filling her up again. She was flaunting her power over him, daring him to make good on a threat she thought had become impossible for him to honor. Rubbing his face in his helplessness. Punishing him for even trying to escape her control. He knew that this was just the beginning; she would make him violate all his ethical and moral principles, just because she could. He would have to torture others on her say-so, as her other minions did.
He had to follow through.
Abner dropped to the ground beside her, put a knee on her chest to hold her down, positioned the blade, and rammed it into the slit. The motion was sexual in its fashion, a sadistic turn-on as he saw the steel disappear into her.
Autopsy screamed, as much
in surprise as in pain. He had indeed raped her with the knife.
She struggled, her breasts pushing against his knee, but he held her down. She could match neither his strength nor his ferocity, and the thrust had severely wounded her.
He drew the knife out, and thrust it in again, deeper, like a deadly phallus. He stabbed her repeatedly in the groin, twisting the blade as he did so. Hot blood spurted out like a red ejaculation, covering the knife and his hand, pooling on the ground. He kept on stabbing and cutting as her belly was minced from inside.
Suddenly she quieted. “Now you have nothing,” she gasped, and died.
Abner’s blind rage abated. He had murdered her, and now he had nothing. He realized that part of his motivation had been to get free of her, and that her death was the only way. He’d had to do it immediately, because he would never have been able to summon the will later. He would have been her love-slave, like the other men of the town. He had his promised vengeance, and nothing else. She was right about that one thing.
He got up and staggered out of the grotto. What was he to do? Everything he valued had been lost. Again. Only this time it was worse than before. He had loved his prior family, but he had come to love his second family more. Now, in the agony of his loss, he could see that.
“Daddy!”
It was Dreda, running toward the cave, disheveled and frightened. She had survived!
He bent to scoop her up into his embrace. “I thought you were dead!” he said.
“Nefer saved us,” she said, clinging tearfully to him. “We’re all alive.”
Abner was stunned by relief. He sank to the ground, sobbing. Dreda hugged him, trying to comfort him. It really did help.
It seemed only a moment before the others were with them. Then he learned what had happened.
The four of them had entered the motor home, searching for jars. Then Nefer had spoken up. “I smell a bomb, like the one Abner and I set off.”
“A bomb?” Bunty asked, not focusing.
The Sopaths Page 17