Image of the Beast and Blown

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Image of the Beast and Blown Page 12

by Philip José Farmer


  making with Sybil, and he did not intend to suffer again.

  Inside the house, he looked around. There could be

  no cameras hidden here. If there were any, they'd have to

  be attached to the trees on the edge of the clearing, and

  he could not see how they would be able to film much,

  even if they were equipped with black-light devices. The

  vines and their supports would bar anything except

  patches of skin and an occasional glimpse of a head or

  limb. Besides, what did he have to lose? Blackmail could

  not be the object of such a game.

  Magda yanked off the blanket acting as a dust cover

  for the sofa. She turned then, the moonlight falling

  through the vines dappling her pale skin. Childe took her

  in his arms and kissed her again, ran his hands down her

  back—she had the muscle tone of a young puma—the

  inward fall of the waist and the outward fall of the hips.

  The garter belt annoyed him, so he sank to his knees and

  unfastened the stockings and pulled them down and then

  pulled down on the garter belt. She kicked them to one

  side and put her hands on the back of his head and pulled

  him towards her cunt. He allowed her to press his face

  against the hairs, and he ran his tongue out and inserted

  it just below the opening of the lips and tickled the clitoris

  with its tip. She moaned and clutched him tighter.

  But he stood up, sliding his tongue up from her cunt

  and along her belly and up to her nipple, which he began

  to suck again. He stepped backwards until she fell on

  the sofa, her legs sticking out, her heels resting on the

  floor. Then he got down on his knees again and licked

  her clitoris once more and then slid down and thrust his

  tongue again and again into her vagina. She began to

  twist her hips a little, but he reached up and pressed down

  on her belly to indicate that she should hold still.

  Her cunt tasted as sweet as Sybil's and the hairs

  seemed to be softer. He put one finger inside her cunt

  and another finger of the same hand up her anus and

  then, working the hand slowly in and out, rubbed his

  tongue back and forth over her clitoris and then later

  tongue-fucked her while his fingers increased the speed

  of their in-and-outs into her cunt and anus.

  She came with a scream and a sudden tightening of

  thighs about his head. The grip was so strong that he

  could not move his fingers.

  He could stand it no longer. He had had no emissions

  for two weeks because of involvement in a case which he

  had wound up just before Colben disappeared. He had

  been busy night and day and when he managed to snatch

  some sleep even his unconscious had been too tired to

  whip up a sexual dream. Then the frustration with Sybil

  had made him hypersensitive. In a minute, he was going

  to come, whether he was in Magda or the air.

  "I can't wait," he said. "It's been too long."

  He started to get down beside her and to help her

  scoot up on the sofa so she could lie full length. But

  she said, "You're ready to come?"

  "It's been too long. I'm full to bursting," he groaned.

  She pushed him down and ran her tongue along his

  belly and wet his pubic hairs with her saliva and tongue

  and then closed her lips upon the head of his cock. She

  slid it back and forth in her lips twice, and with a

  scream that matched hers of a moment ago, he burst in

  her mouth.

  He lay there, feeling as if a tide inside him were with-

  drawing to some far-off horizon. He did not say any-

  thing; he expected her to get up and spit out the stuff,

  as Sybil always did. Sybil also always immediately

  brushed her teeth and gargled with Listerine. Not that he

  blamed her, certainly. He could understand that, once

  the excitement was gone, the thick ropy stuff could be-

  come disgusting. He knew how it tasted. When he had

  been fourteen, he and his fifteen year old brother had

  gone through a period of about six months when they

  had sucked each other off. And then, by mutual and

  silent consent, they had quit and that had been the last

  of his homosexual experiences and, as far as he knew,

  of his brother's. Certainly, his brother, who was such a

  cocksman that he must be a compulsive, hated fairies,

  and once, many years later, when Childe had referred

  to their experimentations, his brother had not known

  what he was talking about. He was either too ashamed

  of it now to admit it or else had actually buried it so deep

  that he did not remember.

  But Magda did not leave him. She audibly swallowed

  several times and then renewed her sucking. He sat up

  and bent over so he could cup her breasts in his hands

  while she was mouthing his glans. And then, just as his

  penis was at almost full erection, he thought of Colben

  and the iron teeth. This woman could be the actress in

  that movie.

  She looked up at him suddenly and said, "What's

  wrong?"

  "Listen," he said, "and don't get mad. Or laugh. But

  do you have false teeth?"

  She sat up and said, "What?" Her voice was thick

  with fluid.

  "Do you have false teeth?"

  "Why do you want to know?" Then she laughed and

  said, "You want me to take them out?"

  "If you have false teeth."

  "Do I look that old?"

  "I've known several nineteen-year-olds who had false

  choppers," he said.

  "Kiss me and I'll tell you," she said.

  "Certainly."

  He held her tightly while he probed her mouth with his

  tongue. He sniffed in the wild-beast odor of his own

  semen and tasted the thick-oil gluey-seeming product of

  his own body. Far from being unpleasant, it excited him.

  She had her hand on his cock, and, feeling it swell, im-

  mediately withdrew from his arms and went down on him

  again. Evidently, she did not intend for him to find out

  if she did have false teeth or perhaps she thought that

  his tongue would have determined that.

  Whatever her reasons, she would not tell him, unless

  he were to use force, he was sure of that. He leaned back

  and let her work on him. And after a while he rolled her

  over and she opened her legs and took his penis gently

  in her fingers and guided him in. He had no sooner sunk

  in to the hairs than she squeezed down on his cock with

  her muscles and continued to squeeze as if she had a

  hand inside her cunt. And then, once again, thinking of

  the film, he became soft. He remembered that bulge be-

  hind the G-string of the woman in the film.

  "For God's sake," she said. "What's the matter now?"

  "I thought I saw somebody in the shadows," he said,

  the only excuse he could grasp at the moment. "Glam?"

  "It had better not be," she said. "I'll kill him if it is.

  So will the baron."

  She stood up on the sofa and called, "Glam? Glam? If

  you're there, you asshole, you better start running and
/>   fast. Otherwise, it's the other end of the wolf for you."

  There was no answer. Childe said, "The other end of

  the wolf? What do you mean?"

  "I'll tell you later," she said. "He's not out there; if he

  is, he isn't going to bother us. Come on, please. I'm ready

  to explode."

  Instead of reaching for him, she got down off the sofa

  and crossed the summerhouse to a small cabinet on a

  stand in the shadows. She came back with a bottle with a

  squat body and a long narrow neck with a wide mouth.

  It was half-full. She drank some, swished some in her

  mouth, and still, holding it, pressed her lips against his

  and squirted the liquid into his mouth. It was hot and

  thick and slightly tart. He swallowed some and immedi-

  ately felt his anxieties draining off.

  "What the hell is that?"

  "It's a liqueur made in Igescu's native province," she

  said. "It's supposed to have an aphrodisiac effect. I under-

  stand that there isn't any true aphrodisiac, but this stuff

  does one thing. It burns away the inhibitions. Not that I

  thought I'd ever have to use it on you."

  "I won't need any more of it," he said. His penis was

  rising as if it were a balloon being filled for a trans-

  atlantic voyage. A beam of moonlight fell on it, and

  Magda, seeing it, squealed with delight.

  "Oh, you beauty! You great big beauty!"

  She lay down and raised her legs and he entered

  again and then, for a long long time, said nothing. It was

  a peculiarity of his that if he were blown at the beginning,

  he took a long time coming the second time. Magda

  seemed to have an almost unbroken series of orgasms

  during this time and when he finally came she clawed his

  back until the blood ran off. He did not mind at the

  time, but later he cursed her. It was a theory of his that

  women who clawed your back when they came were

  actually attempting to prove how passionate they were,

  but he was willing to admit that he could be wrong.

  They lay there for some time by each other, not saying

  a word. They were sheathed in sweat and would have

  been grateful for a breeze. But the air was as still as

  before.

  Finally, he said, "There's no use your playing with it.

  Not for some time. I'm shot out. I could stay and be all

  right within an hour, but I have to go pretty soon."

  He was thinking that he was supposed to have called

  Mustanoja by now.

  "I'm not unsatisfied, baby," she said, "but I could be

  whipped up into enthusiasm again and I'd like to be.

  You don't know how long it's been for me!"

  She reached for the bottle, which was on the floor

  by the sofa.

  "Let's have another drink and see what happens."

  He watched her to make sure that she drank again

  out of the bottle before he drank. He took a small swal-

  low and then said, "What's this about Glam and the

  other end of the wolf?"

  She laughed and said, "That big ugly dumbshit! He

  wants me, but I can't stand him, and he'd probably try

  to rape me, he's such a moron, but he knows that if I

  didn't kill him, Igescu would! You must know about

  the wolves, since you mentioned them. I was walking in

  the woods one evening when I heard one of the wolves

  howling and snarling. It sounded as if it were in pain, or,

  at least, in trouble of some kind. I went up a hill and

  looked down in a hollow, and there was the female wolf,

  her head in four nooses, and the ends of the nooses

  tied to trees. She couldn't go back or forward, and there

  was Glam, all his clothes off except for his socks and

  shoes, holding the wolf by the tail and fucking her. I

  think he must have been hurting her, I don't know how

  big a female wolf's cunt is, but I don't think they're built

  to take an enormous cock like Glam's. I really think

  she was hurting. But Glam, that animal Glam, was fuck-

  ing her."

  Childe was silent for a moment and then he said,

  "What about the male wolf? Wasn't Glam afraid of the

  male wolf?"

  She laughed and said, "Oh, that's another story,"

  and she laughed for a long time.

  When she stopped, she raised the bottle and poured

  liquid on her nipples and then on her pubic hairs.

  "Lick it off, baby, and then we'll make love again."

  "It won't do any good," Childe said. But he rolled over

  and sucked on her nipples for a while and finger-fucked

  her until she came again and again and then he kissed

  her belly, traveling downward until his mouth was against

  the tight hairs of her cunt. He tongued off the liqueur

  and then jabbed his tongue as far as he could until

  his jaws and tongue hurt. When he stopped, he was rolled

  over by her strong hands and she gently nibbled at his

  penis until it rose like a trout to a fly. He mounted

  her from behind, and she told him to be quiet, he did not

  have to wear himself out. She contracted the muscles

  of her vagina as if it were a hand and this time he

  kept his erection. He seemed to be getting a little dizzy

  and a little fuzzy. He knew that he had made a mistake

  drinking that liquid; it couldn't be poison, because she

  wouldn't have drunk it also. But he wondered if it had

  a property of becoming narcotic if it were on epidermis.

  Could its interaction with the skin of her nipples and

  cunt have produced something dangerous only to him?

  Then the thought and the alarm were gone.

  He remembered vaguely an orgasm that seemed to

  go on forever, like the thousand-year orgasm promised the

  faithful of Islam in heaven when they are enfolded

  by a houri. There were blanks thereafter. He could

  remember, as if he were seeing himself in a fog, getting

  his car and driving off while the road wiggled like a snake

  and the trees bent over and made passes at him with

  their branches. Some of the trees seemed to have big

  knotty eyes and mouths like barky cunts. The eyes be-

  came nipples; sap oozed out of them. A tree gave

  him the finger with the end of a branch.

  "Up yours, too," he remembered yelling, and then

  he was on a broad road with many lights around him

  and horns blaring and then there was the same tree again

  and this time it beckoned at him and as he got closer

  he could see that its mouth was a barky cunt and that it

  was promising him something he had never had before.

  And so it was. Death.

  11

  He awoke in the emergency room of the Doctors

  Hospital in Beverly Hills. His only complaint was slug-

  gishness. He was unconscious when he had been pulled

  out of the car by a good Samaritan. The Beverly

  Hills officer told him that his car had run into a tree off

  the side of the road, but the collision was so light that

  the only damage was a slightly bent-in bumper and a

  broken headlamp.

  The officer evidently suspected first, drunkenness, and

  second, drugs. Childe told
him that he had been forced

  off the road and had been knocked out when the car hit

  the tree. That he had no visible injury on his head

  meant nothing.

  Fortunately, there were no witnesses to the crash.

  The man who had pulled him from the car had come

  around the curve just in time to see the impact. Another

  car was going the opposite direction; it was not driving

  eratically, as Childe had reported, but this meant noth-

  ing because the car could have straightened out. Childe

  gave Bruin and several others as references. Fifteen

  minutes later, he was discharged, although the doctors

  warned him that he should take it easy even if there

  was no evidence of concussion.

  His car was still on the roadside. The police had not

  had it towed in because the trucks were too busy, but

  the officer had removed the key from the ignition. Un-

  fortunately, the officer had also forgotten to give it back

  to Childe, and Childe then had to walk to the Beverly

  Hills Police Department to retrieve it. The officer was

  on duty. A radio call resulted in the information that

  he was tied up and would not be able to drop by the

  department for at least an hour. Childe made sure that

  the key would be given to the officer in charge of the

  desk, and he walked home through the night. He cursed

  himself for having buried the extra key under the bush

  outside Igescu's.

  He had tried to get a taxi to take him home, but

  these were too busy. It seemed that everybody thought

  that the smog was over for good and was celebrating.

  Or perhaps everybody wanted to have some fun be-

  fore the air became too poisoned again.

  There were three parties going on in his building. He

  put ear plugs in as soon as he had showered, and he

  went to bed. The plugs kept most of the noise out

  but did not bar his thoughts.

  He had been drugged and sent out with the hope that

  he would kill himself in a car accident. Why the drug

  had affected him and not Magda was an interesting

  question but one that did not have to be considered at

  this time. She could have taken an antidote or relied on

  someone else to take care of her after Childe was gone.

  Or it was possible—he remembered what he had thought

 

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