The carriage reached the ground. They got out and were replaced by a new couple. “Let’s go home,” he said gruffly.
The limo was waiting. There was no sign of Salina. She might be riding up front. They got in and took their seats. Now it was Jalna sitting with her thighs visible under her skirt, turning him on. Damn!
“I know you want to do it,” she murmured.
“My position is still the inverse of yours. I do want sex with you, but taking it by violence would spoil it.”
“That’s the beauty of the challenge.” She spread her knees farther, giving him a better view of her pantyless juncture. She was teasing him, trying to work him up to the point where he would have to take her any way he could. He had a sick fear that she could succeed. He had chased after the nymph among the trees, knowing it was dangerous, and thus fallen into the knothole trap.
They reached the mansion and went to Jalna’s room. There was just the one bed, and she insisted that he share it with her. “But then I’ll be constantly touching you, getting hard.”
“What’s your point?”
“At some point maybe we’ll figure out how to have sex without violating my scruples or yours. Meanwhile, I’ll try not to bother you.”
“Don’t be foolish.” She caught his arm and guided him to the bed. He lay on it, and she stripped nude and lay against him, her thigh touching his, her breast against his chest, her arm over him, her soft hair caressing his neck.
Of course he got hard, and his penis jammed against her belly. She seemed to pay no attention. She was making it easy for him to desire her, and to have access to her body. All he had to do, as she said, was hold her down and do it.
He couldn’t.
She lifted her head and kissed him. “You’re a nice man.” She dropped her face to the pillow and went to sleep.
He felt her even breathing, her breasts sliding smoothly against his chest. He reached around her and stroked her bottom. Oh, he wanted her! He could clasp her to him, and shift around so that his stiff penis lodged in her cleft even as she struggled, and force it up into her until it scored.
But he would hate himself ever after.
He would just have to suffer. He held her close against him and slept.
The game illumination blinked, signifying the passing of the night. Jalna opened her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”
“I am,” he agreed. His member was still pinned between their bellies, still hard, completely obvious to her.
She kissed him. “Damn, I’m sorry You’re taken!”
He had an alarming thought. “You can’t be the one who loves me!”
She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be ironic! No, I’m not that one. But don’t think you can ask the rest of us; they will all deny being the one, and one will be lying. You have to fathom it for yourself. Just as you have to figure this out. If you don’t do it before the day is out, you lose.”
He got a notion. “I think I have it! I can’t rape you, and you can’t submit without rape, right?”
“Right,” she agreed, tickling his rear.
“You could rape me.”
“Ludicrous.”
“I’m serious. You slip a potion in my drink, one that makes me unable to resist. Then, you mount me and do it. It’s involuntary, but not for you. You participate in a rape in a manner I can accept.”
She considered. “I wonder whether that would actually work? Be allowed by the game, I mean.”
“Let’s try it and see.”
“Here goes nothing,” she agreed. “It’s time for breakfast. Come on. Don’t bother to dress.”
They went down to the dining hall. Several clothed witches were already eating. They did not comment. Jalna served him cereal and milk, served herself, and sat beside him.
Pedro started to feel dizzy. “I—I—” he said, and flopped on the table, spilling the rest of his cereal.
“I drugged you, you fool,” Jalna said. “You teased me all night without doing it, so now I’m getting you back. Get on the table!” She hauled on him, and the other witches helped. They laid him on his back on the table, his flaccid member uppermost.
Jalna got up on the table and straddled him. She took his penis and kneaded it into hardness. Then she lifted and settled on him. “Take that, slacker,” she said, spreading herself full length upon him. “I am taking you by force.” She kissed him, then shoved her body down so as to take him in to full depth.
The trigger was tripped, and the orgasm came. Jalna lay on him, working her pelvis to maximize penetration, squeezing him internally. He spewed everything he had into her. Technically, that was nothing, but it felt like an overpowering surge. His member swelled with the force of it, pressed against her channel, pulsed within it. What a climax!
The other witches applauded as it ebbed.
“It was rape, right?” Jalna asked them. “He had no choice.”
“It was rape,” the Faerie Imri agreed.
“And now, it is my turn,” another witch said. “Get off my man, Jalna.”
And so, there on the table, he was passed along to the blue-haired Elf, Kyra. She possessively fetched him a new bowl of cereal and made him eat as his stupor gradually wore off. “That was a smart ploy,” she said. “You got her without raping her. A woman can appreciate that in a man.”
“Thank you. I did desire her. Just not the way she wanted.”
In due course Kyra took him to her room, and had him in a new position: him on his back, her on her back over him, taking him in as his hands held her breasts. It was another wonderful experience.
In this manner he moved through the remaining witches, until all too soon all thirteen had been done. Now it was time for the reckoning. He had handled one challenge, but two remained. He still had no idea which one of them loved him.
He sat facing the group of them. What was he to do?
Xylia, the Nordic clerk of court who had recruited him, put the dreaded question to him. “Which of us loves you, Pedro?”
His mind spun. He didn’t want to guess, but might have no choice. They had all treated him well. They had all kissed him, even Jalna, the rape prospect. They had all had sex with him in increasingly novel positions. Any or all could love him.
Except one, in one respect. Was it significant? Xylia had not actually kissed him. He had tried, but she had averted her face. He had taken that to mean that she refused the pretense, and simply got the job of sex done. But it could have been for another reason.
“Why won’t you kiss me?” he asked her.
“That would not be wise.”
“Is it because you love me, and don’t want to risk giving it away?”
She returned his gaze evenly. “Are you saying I am the one?”
He decided to gamble. “Yes!”
There was a gentle sigh among the witches.
“Yes, I am the one,” Xylia agreed. “That is why I recruited you. I wanted to have you close to me, even if I had to share you with my sister witches.” She grimaced. “Some of whom are seductive wenches.”
“All of whom,” Jalna corrected her. The others laughed.
He had won the second challenge. But he wanted more. What was so special about her kiss? It just might relate to the unknown third challenge. “Then kiss me now.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“We each have our separate magic, or magick, as we call it. Mine is the kiss. Had I kissed you, you would have been severely compelled. That would not have been fair.”
“I’ll risk it now,” he said. “Kiss me.”
She glanced around at the others. Slowly they nodded. Then, oddly, they began taking off their clothes.
Xylia stood and approached him, removing her own dress. Three other witches came and stood close around her. This was becoming more mysterious. She had said her kiss would be compelling. In what manner?
Xylia put her hands on the sides of his face, setting it just so. The other three leaned close. Then she lif
ted her face and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
The universe detonated. He seemed to be expanding in every direction, especially his penis, which was suddenly supremely urgent. He thrust, and had an explosive orgasm, feeling the ejaculate flow. There was a brief pause. Then he thrust again, and the orgasm resumed, and more semen flowed. Then, after another pause, a third effort, as the orgasm returned in force.
It continued with seemingly interminable bliss, as his lips remained locked on hers. How many spurts could he put into her? This was an extended orgasm like none other! He was peripherally aware of the other witches squeezing in close, touching him, maybe helping to support Xylia. The force of the continuing orgasm threatened to topple them both. Finally, it ended. It must have lasted five or six minutes! And all the time the kiss was unbroken, generating its own current. Now the kiss broke, coincidentally the same time as the last surge of passion faded. What a kiss!
He was in Xylia, his member slowly softening, as well it should. It had performed with amazing power and duration.
Pedro looked around. The witches were scattered around the room, sprawled on chairs, looking windswept. What had happened to them?
Xylia drew back, letting his penis drop. She half fell into her own chair, breathing hard.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I kissed you,” Xylia answered.
“Why is everyone sprawled in chairs, as though they were hit by a hurricane?”
“You may have trouble believing it.”
“Try me.”
“You have just done all of us.”
“I don’t believe it!” Then he paused, realizing that he was reacting as she had indicated. “I need more detail.”
“When I kissed you, your member became urgent. One of us took it in for the delivery. After the spurt, she got off and another got on for the second spurt. And so on, until twelve were done. Even Jalna, who put herself in place and got raped. Only then did I take you in myself for the final emission. Then I broke the kiss. A second cycle would not have been healthy.”
“But I was kissing only you throughout,” he protested.
“Maybe we can show you.” Xylia stood and approached him again. This time she put her hand against his mouth.
Nola came close, stood beside Xylia, and angled her body before Xyla’s so that her pelvis met his pelvis. She paused there a moment, then retreated. Imri came in from the other side, angling her body similarly, putting her pelvis in play. Meanwhile, Xylia’s hand remained on his mouth.
Pedro was beginning to understand. “I was kissing you, but having sex with the others, in turn. There was no recovery time. I did each in seconds.”
“Thirty seconds,” Xylia agreed, dropping her hand. “Including a pause for swapping out.”
“In six minutes I did twelve witches? And finally, you?”
“Once my kiss starts, it is best to complete the roster, lest the urgency become damaging. I would not be able to handle so many orgasms in succession, so the others took them. We had to spread out the magic.”
“I should think so,” he agreed, bemused. “Even then, I gather it was a pretty arduous exercise.”
“Mainly the rapid placements,” Xylia said. “We could not afford a blockage.”
“Well, I’m satisfied. Your kiss is potent, and I won’t take it amiss if you don’t kiss me again. I believe I have one more challenge to navigate. What is it?”
Jalna spoke. “Close your eyes.”
Pedro closed them.
“There are thirteen of us, and two surviving female players. Sixteen women were in the second round. Who is missing?”
It took him a moment to orient on the completely unexpected question. Not who was participating, but who was not. He knew he had met them all at the conclusion of the second round. He hadn’t been paying attention to them all, but a part of his mind had checked them off, to know with whom he was competing. Which one of these sixteen had he not encountered here?
His mind crunched, and he got it. One of the women on the boats, a Mongol. “Zora!” he exclaimed.
Zora appeared. “Thank you for remembering me. You have won the round.”
“Now let’s have a party,” Jalna said. “But no kissing, Xylia.” They all laughed.
Privately, Pedro was wondering how Fotina was doing in the female section of this round.
• • •
Fotina turned away from the judge’s desk. Her divorce was final, she was destitute, and she had no idea where she would go or what she might do. She was also aware that in this setting she had no special powers; she was just an ordinary woman.
The Court Clerk approached her. She recognized him as Kemo, the powerful Nubian who had lost his life on Horror World. He was now a supporting player. “Off the record, I think you got a raw deal,” he said. “Your ex is an utter cad.”
Suddenly overwhelmed, she burst into tears. He held her comfortingly. “There is a place you will be welcome,” he murmured. “Room, board, and entertainment provided. But you would have to oblige thirteen men.”
House mother to a college fraternity? At this stage anything was better than nothing. She hardly hesitated. “Where?”
“This way.”
He took her to a limo, and as they rode he described the situation. “It’s the male equivalent of a coven. Thirteen warlocks in need of an attractive woman who doesn’t condemn magic. They won’t practice it on you without your permission, but they are not like garden variety men.”
“Magic? I thought this was a science setting.”
“It’s a mundane setting where most folk don’t believe in magic, so warlocks and witches have to tread carefully. They don’t want to get burned at the stake.”
“I see. I can’t do magic, but the warlocks can.”
“That’s about it. Had you washed out of the last round, you could have served in this one as a witch, and done limited magic. But as a continuing player, you are designated ordinary.”
“Got it. I’ll keep my mouth shut about magic. How do we proceed?”
“You will have to have sex with each in turn before repeating with any. They are virile, and that could mean thirteen trysts in the first day. But you won’t have to do more than one a day unless you choose to.”
She sought to identify the worst of it. “Are they, um, unattractive?”
“Not at all. They are ordinary. Like me.”
“You are one of them?”
“Yes. But I don’t advertise that while on the job. People might misunderstand. Magic is frowned upon.”
“I am to have sex with you, too?”
“Yes. I am first in line, for recruiting you. But I am not rushing you. Any time in the next day or night will do.”
Indeed it would do for now, until she got her footing. She had garnered a fair amount of sexual experience in the course of the game, and could handle anything within reason. Of course, the game might throw in something beyond reason. That made her wary.
“There must be other conditions,” she said.
“Some. You must employ a different position each time, not repeating any until the complete roster is serviced. One man may hate you but will not say so; you will have to identify him.”
“Hate me! Why, when he can’t even really know me?”
“That mystery you must fathom yourself.”
This was growing more difficult, but it was the kind of thing the game could throw at a player. “What else?”
“Two other challenges you will have to navigate as you come to them.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you are eliminated from the game.”
Just so. “Bring it on,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
That night, with Kemo in the standard missionary position, she ventured an out-of-setting question. “How did you and Tris get caught, on Horror? We thought you’d be too canny for simple traps.”
“We were, we thought,” he said, penetrating her slowly, savoring it. “We g
ot answers from obliging nymphs, but then fell prey to the aphrodisiac effect of the fruit. The nymphs of the forest were not immediately obliging; we had to chase them and back them up against tree trunks. I don’t care to discuss the rest.”
“Understood. I got backed against a tree too. I had fashioned a metallic skirt to fend off the satyrs. I managed to bite off tendrils and fight free.”
“You are a remarkable woman.” At that point, he penetrated to her cervix and the orgasm was upon them.
“I have learned a huge amount in the game,” she said as it faded.
“You surely deserve to win.”
“Thank you.”
“My turn.” It was another warlock, there to claim her company per their schedule.
She went through them rapidly thereafter, utilizing a different sexual position with each. It wasn’t difficult, because each was eager for sex and none were rough or twisted in preferences. They were all vanquished players of former rounds, several of which she had had sex with before in the first two settings.
But which one of them hated her? This was a game artifact only, as they knew she was committed to Pedro, but her survival in the game depended on her success in fathoming it. Each kissed and fondled her appreciatively, and several complimented her performance in the game. But if there was a deeper or more contrary emotion than sexual passion, it was not evident.
Then she encountered Tris. He had had sex with Xylia, then gone with Kemo to their joint fate on Horror World. This time he was quite different.
“I like you, Fotina,” he said. “I respect you. I think Pedro is one lucky man. But I can’t have sex with you.”
She smiled. “It can’t be that you don’t like sex. You performed impressively with Xylia.”
“Oh, yes. I do like sex. Just not with you. Not in this setting.”
Was this a challenge? “I don’t understand.”
“Can you stand a bit of dull background?”
“I can stand more than a bit, if it relates to how I turn you off. That’s not an impression I prefer to make on a man.”
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
Was that a line? Why use it to avoid sex? “Then tell me about you.”
“Before I was a full warlock, I was part of a melded family. Several of us were adopted orphans. That was why we did not much resemble each other physically or emotionally. Our parents were wonderful people. So, actually, were my siblings. I am Nordic, my teen sister Thea was Moor, but I could not have loved her more regardless of her race.”