Eroma

by Piers Anthony

  “Put him in me,” Essie said, now spreading her legs voluntarily. “Give him a taste of heaven.”

  Gina pushed the penis into Essie’s cleft, and on into her vagina, which was tight. Gina shoved him so that he drove in part way, and shoved him again. His member wedged in farther. The vagina loosened just enough to let him in farther, then clamped on him. Much more of this, and he would spout involuntarily. Which, of course, was their intention. They were trying to rape him.

  He put his hands on Essie’s breasts, not to caress them, but to push them away. He tore his penis out of her possessive vagina. He twisted so that Gina’s hand lost purchase on his member. He was free, for the moment.

  It was to be a physical battle! All right. What he needed to do first was immobilize them. Then he could proceed with whatever next step seemed appropriate.

  The two of them leaped at him together and bore him backward to the floor. Essie sat on his face, her vulva wetting his nose. Gina took his penis and vigorously massaged it. “Let’s see this thing spout,” she said. She knew what she was doing; his member was responding. He had to get out of this immediately.

  Pedro tried to bite Essie’s bottom, but found he could not; that was evidently against the rules. Instead, he extended his tongue and poked it as well as he could into her vagina. That made her lift off him, surprised, and he was able to roll to the side. He drew up his legs, breaking Gina’s hold on his member, and scrambled back to his feet. He knew he was in desperate straits; these Amazons would soon wear him out and do him in, one way or another.

  They were coming at him again. He had to recover the initiative.

  He caught Gina, turned her to face him, and kissed her mouth. She had to meet him, per the rule he had learned from Mela. But it did not disable her. She reached again for his penis, surely intending to jam it into her at her convenience, not his, while she was able to force it to premature performance.

  He ducked his head and kissed one of her breasts, mouthing the nipple. No effect. She pushed him back, trying to gain operating room. He reached around her and thrust a finger into her bottom, finding the slit and the hole. No effect. She threw her arms around him and held him while Essie came back at him from behind.

  He dropped to the floor, curled up, and rolled forcefully against their legs. Caught by surprise, they fell in a tangle of limbs, everything showing wide open. He lurched clear and stood for a moment. Regular tactics Weren’t accomplishing much. What else was there? What hadn’t he tried?

  Essie got to her feet and came back at him. “I’m going to send thee to hell,” she said grimly.

  They had spoken of heaven and hell. Was that significant? Often small hints were important, in the game.

  He met her with open arms, clasped her, and whispered, “Bless you!”

  She lost volition. She stood there helplessly, then sank to the floor. He had found her key!

  Now Gina was coming at him. He caught her and whispered, “Bless you!”

  She wrapped her arms about his body and drew his midsection in toward hers.

  “Curse you!” he said.

  She went limp, and also sank to the floor. He had found her key also.

  What now? Both women had been denied their ability to attack him, but now their legs were tightly closed and he knew he would not be able to pry them apart by force. He needed the next trigger.

  One had been defused by his blessing, the other by his curse. Similar but opposite. Could that be a pattern?

  He went to Essie. “Curse you!”

  Her legs opened. Victory!

  He went to Gina. “Bless you.”

  Her legs parted. Good enough.

  He got on Essie, readying his member.

  “Before thou dost frustrate thyself,” she said.

  He paused. “What is it?”

  “Thou must do both of us together, or fail. If thou dost do one, the other will be freed and thou willst have to start over. Thou willst be here all day, doing us in turn, even if thou knowest our triggers. We be willing to settle for that, but are obliged as a matter of Amazon honor to warn thee.”

  Amazon honor? Maybe so. The game did have rules of engagement, as he had learned. They applied to him too, as he had found when he had tried to bite her ass.

  “How can I do you both at once? I have only one penis.”

  “That be thy problem,” she said, grinning.

  He pondered. “How much time do I have to figure this out?”

  “All thou dost want. But thou willst not progress before thou dost do us. We can wait; thou canst not.”

  So it seemed. He was so close to success, having disabled and opened them both. But he knew their vaginas would resist him, and even if they didn’t, when he did one, he would be through until he could recover, and the other Amazon would be undone, as it were.

  Well, first things first. His next step was to soften their vaginas. Otherwise he would not be able to penetrate either one of them.

  He tried blessing and cursing them, but the words had no further effect. He verified by poking his finger in after each attempt, and finding the aperture tight. He tried kissing mouths and breasts. They kissed back, and pushed their breasts against his mouth. It was a teasing cooperation, since it had no effect on their vaginas.

  Finally he kissed a clitoris. That did it; his probing finger proved that her vagina had softened. He kissed the other clit, and this time the same trigger was effective for both of them.

  “Well, thou hast us vulnerable now,” Gina said. “Thou canst defeat us. Go ahead and do it.” She knew he couldn’t.

  To do one was not enough. But how could he do two simultaneously?

  Then he got a notion. “Gina, get on Essie, face down,” he said. “Or would you prefer I moved you there?”

  Silently, Gena mounted her companion Amazon. Now the two women lay as if having sex with each other. If the position bothered them, they did not show it. They were giving away no hints at this point.

  He squatted to arrange them more carefully. He spread their legs wide. He got Gina’s cleft right over Essie’s cleft, so that the two formed a roughly vertical line.

  He got down on them both, his legs between theirs, his member pointed at their dual clefts. He nudged his penis into Gina’s vagina. It slid in without impediment.

  He pulled out and moved down to Essie’s hole. He pushed in, and this too was easy. They were certainly ready.

  He took a breath. Then thrust hard into Essie, all the way to the end. He rammed her cervix, triggering the orgasm.

  The climax was upon them both. Pedro gritted his teeth and did just about the hardest thing he had ever done: he pulled his pulsing penis out. He reoriented it, and jammed it into Gina’s hole. It was still hard; the thirty second orgasm was still in process. He thrust it all the way in, tripping her trigger too.

  Essie went into her orgasm, and Pedro got a second jolt. This time he remained embedded, enjoying it. He rode it out, until it expired.

  He had done them both.

  “Congratulations,” Essie said. “Thou hast defeated us.”

  “We thought thou hadst it in you not,” Gina said. “Or in us, as it happens.”

  The three of them got to their feet. Both women stood before him, faces lifted, arms at their sides.

  He went to Essie, embraced her, kissed her, and fondled her bottom. He did the same with Gina.

  “Thou really be an incredible man,” Essie said.

  “We fought thee as hard as we could, and thou stillst won,” Gina said.

  Then both of them closed on him, kissing and fondling him with no ill intent. “Good luck,” they said together.

  “Thank you.” Pedro turned and walked out the far doorway. This led to the base of a circular stairway that extended up into the high turret.

  He mounted the stairs, looping around and around. Finally, he came to the topmost chamber.

  “Come in, Pedro,” a dulcet voice invited. This was the Queen, a lovely Mongol wearing a crown
that seemed to clothe her completely, though she was nude. Her nameplate said: HERA.

  He came to stand before her. “This is the final battle?”

  “Thou hast conquered six maidens,” she said. “I be the seventh. We shall do it here.” She indicated a queen-sized bed.

  He joined her on it. She smiled and put her arms about him, drawing him in close. She set his penis at her vulva, and guided it into her vagina. There was no resistance. Apparently this was a different kind of contest.

  “Thou hast fought well,” she said. “I believe I will keep thee. The girls all like thee, and will welcome thy attentions during off-hours.”

  “Off hours?”

  “They must challenge other players. But only one needs be on duty at a time, when a player reaches her station.” She smiled. “Or two, as the case may be.”

  “I don’t plan to stay here,” Pedro said.

  “Be not concerned. Thou willst progress to the next round. Thou hast already qualified.”

  “Then why—this?”

  “I be entitled to a bit of sport myself.”

  “Sport?”

  “With a handsome man who has played very well. Be thou ready?”

  “I’m not sure. Aren’t we supposed to fight?”

  “Theoretically. But thou canst resist me not, so it be academic.” Then she kissed him, flexed her pelvis, and drew him in the rest of the way, and the rapture was upon them both.

  It was the best climax yet.

  • • •

  Fotina stood before a high castle set in a lake moat. She had to win her way through to the highest turret, where the king resided, and seduce him. From that turret flew the identifying flag: MAN HELL. That suggested what to expect.

  First, she needed a bit more background. The players she encountered were obliged to respond accurately to her questions, to the degree decreed by the game rules. They could not lie to her, but neither did they have to tell her everything. Pedro had taught her caution.

  She approached the station where the drawbridge rested when lowered. A brute Nubian warrior man stood there. His name tag said: ZEKE. “Begone, stranger,” he called. “Thou shalt not enter these demesnes.”

  “I have to, if I am to continue in the game.”

  He contemplated her, his eyes lingering on her breasts. She, having qualified for this round by exchanging for most of the available traits, now possessed a pretty face, hourglass figure, lithe muscles, and perfect health. She was the perfect figure of a Moorish woman, fully capable of attracting the eye of any partly-human male. “Thou art a neat little package, girl. Come here and I will give thee such a plumbing as to make thee forget all about the game.”

  She was mildly annoyed. She liked being splendidly attractive, but leering turned her off. She preferred to have a man notice and desire her, but to be mannerly about his interest. “Your penis isn’t even up.”

  “Say the word, maiden, and it will rise to the occasion.”

  “What word?”

  “That thou dost accept my lust as a non-challenge.”

  “You want sex outside the game challenge?” she exclaimed angrily.

  “Even so, pretty thing.”

  “Well, you won’t get it. I’m here to compete. Now, how do I compete with you?”

  He sighed. “Thou hast asked, and I must answer. Here be the way of it: we each throw out one or two fingers. Be their total odd, the onus be mine, and I will seek to fathom thy three triggers and render thee helpless for my gratification. Thou must balk me by forcing my orgasm without thine. If the fingers total even, the onus be thine, to seek my two remaining triggers and cause me to spout without thy climax. Either situation can lead to either resolution, but generally having the onus be considered an advantage.”

  Fotina thought about it. “So, either you get to try to rape me, or I get to try to rape you.”

  “Neatly stated, wench. I be game, either way.” He licked his lips, focusing on her posterior.

  His language was getting cruder by the minute. “I’d rather swim the moat.”

  He smiled. “Be my guest, strumpet. The moat monster be hungry today.” And there, of course, lifted the huge toothy head of the aquatic monster.

  But Fotina was canny. She quietly invoked her magic, enabling her to penetrate illusion. The monster became translucent, losing its coloring. As she concentrated, it lost coherence. She relaxed, and it returned to full view, looking relieved. It existed only in appearance. The moat was safe to swim, at least in this respect.

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Then throw thy fingers, whore,” he said, pleased. “I will fuck thee so hard my gism will come out of thy mouth.” It was, of course, figurative, since male players put out no ejaculate, avoiding mess.

  “You misunderstand, turd. I don’t think I’ll play the game with you.” With that, she turned and dived into the moat.

  The monster swam to intercept her, but she knew it for illusion, and swam right through it. Annoyed, it faded out.

  Something else appeared. This was a triton or merman: a man with the tail of a fish. His flaccid penis showed at the mergence of his belly and upper tail. “Ho, player lady!” he called.

  Oh, no! The moat was guarded by more than illusion. “You’re a castle guardian,” she said.

  He drew up before her. His name tag said: YON. He was a Moorish player. She rather liked that type, for some reason. But he was an opponent. “I am, damsel. What may I do for thee?”

  “I don’t suppose you will just let me pass unmolested,” she said.

  “Nay, not that,” he agreed. “Needs I must vie with thee to prevent thy passage.”

  “What are the rules of engagement? Can you try to drown me?”

  “Nay, fair one. Thou canst breathe the water an thou needest. First we throw fingers—”

  “I get it. The drawbridge guard told me. He wanted to get into my pants, as it were.”

  He took polite note of her bare midsection, without staring. “And very nice pants they are, I am sure. That comes with the condition of being male. I, too, desire thy lovely body.”

  “And you will not let me pass unless you have your chance at it,” she said. She knew it was foolish, but she much preferred the idea of wrestling with a polite fellow Moor than with the crude Nubian guard.

  “Even so, fair creature. I may be a triton in form, but my underlying nature be human man, and thou art a wondrous sight. The thought of amorously clasping thee appeals mightily. However, needs I must advise thee that this be not thy best course.”

  “You think I should go wrestle with the drawbridge lout?”

  “True, maiden, much as I would like to clasp thee. I be but the first of two moat guards. Thou wouldst not like the second.”

  “I am not going to give the drawbridge freak the filthy pleasure of fondling my ass. On guard, Yon.” She raised her hand.

  “I gave thee fair warning. But, glad I be to have at thy ass myself.” He raised his hand.

  They threw down their hands together. Each had extended two fingers.

  “It be even,” Yon said. “The onus be thine. I be ready.” Indeed, his penis was rising, preparing for the engagement. Throwing out the fingers was the first trigger, priming him for action. Now she had to figure out how to render him passive, so she could have her way with him.

  Yon waited, not attacking her, per his role. That gave her time to think. What would render him helpless?

  “This be thy first encounter,” Yon said. “Needs I must advise thee further: there be two triggers to render me passive, and then to enable my orgasm. Kissing, fondling, words, penetration—the various sexual acts. Any of these can be a trigger. But they are randomly assigned. Thou must fathom them by trial and error.”

  “If I render you passive, why should I bother with the rest?” she asked. “I should be able to swim on.”

  “Sexually passive,” he clarified. “I will still balk thee, until thou unman me by evoking my orgasm without thine.”r />
  Ah. The notion of a sexually passive man was intriguing, but really, it was a game definition.

  She swam into him and kissed him on the mouth. He met it with enthusiasm, and tried to insert his penis between her legs. Oops—he was not sexually passive yet. She had the initiative, but when she put her body up against his, it was an invitation to sex.

  She withdrew. The kiss on the mouth had not done it. What next?

  She submerged and put her mouth on his standing penis. She took it in part way. She knew better than to draw in the whole of it. Regardless, it didn’t work.

  Before she disengaged, she reached in with one hand and tickled his scrotum. His body went limp. She had found the trigger!

  She took hold of his member and massaged it, but it did not respond; it remained hard, but unyielding. She rose to the surface and put his penis into her vagina, part way. It remained hard and dry.

  She held it there a moment more. “I think You’re just the handsomest man!” she whispered in his ear

  His penis heated and jerked in her vagina. He was in his orgasm. She had found the third trigger! She felt the faint electrical echo of his rapture, that would have triggered hers had he been able to penetrate deep enough to trip her switch. As it was, she lost the rapture, but won the point, and that was its own kind of pleasure.

  “It’s been nice,” she said, as his member finished and expired. “Maybe after this is over, we can do it for real.”

  “I’d like that!” he gasped. “Thanks for letting me do it in thy tight hot cleft, instead of making me spend in the water.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. It had been coincidence, but she appreciated how it was nicer for him with partial entry than with none. She liked him, and was glad it had happened that way.

  She swam on across the moat. The inner bank was a vertical wall that provided no purchase. She swam along parallel to it, looking for an access. There had to be one; otherwise, there was no point in defending the moat.

  She found it: a shallow bay leading to a miniature beach— it was ideal for wading to the shore and to the land surrounding the castle.