“I saw, yesterday,” Prior agreed, not wanting to admit that she had already roused his erection.
“But you have to bare your member,” she said. “For fair play. I don’t like working blind.”
“I’d really rather see the sights,” Prior said desperately, looking out from the basket to the landscape drifting by below.
“I’m trying to show them to you,” she said reprovingly, with another evocative flip of her bottom. “Are you gay?”
“No. I just—have a challenge coming up.”
“You’re competing for the Maiden in the Tower!” she exclaimed.
“Uh, yes.”
“Why? With your superior farts, you can win any woman you want. Me, even, for today. Why risk your health fighting the guardian demons? A fellow can get his ass reamed for keeps that way.”
“I—I just need to do it,” he said lamely.
“Now you have intrigued my feminine curiosity. First I’ll make you spurt untouched, then I’ll weasel out your secret. It’s a double challenge. But we’ll have to establish the rules of the game. Both naked, of course.”
“I don’t want a game,” Prior protested. “I just want to get where I’m going.”
“You’re not from Fartingale, are you,” she said.
“I’m from another country,” he agreed. “I followed the statues to get here.”
She nodded. “So you surely have motivation. I understand those statues can be demanding.”
“Yes.” He saw a cluster of houses surrounded by fields. Maybe he could change the subject. “What’s that village?”
“Take off your clothes and I’ll tell you.” He kept his eyes off her.
“You’re really determined, aren’t you.”
“Yes. It’s a challenge.”
And she would keep after him until she got her way. He doffed his clothes and stood with his moderately rigid erection.
“This is the village of Shit-for-Brains,” she said.
“You’re kidding!”
“By no means. All the villages of Fartingale have descriptive names. Didn’t you notice Nude-on-Toilet, with its coed privy seats?”
“Uh, yes. I guess I didn’t think about it.”
“You seemed to adapt pretty well to the local scene, quick-sticking Smellie when I did my act. How come you picked her to shit beside?”
She had seen that?
“She’s honest.”
That set her back for a moment.
“Good point. You’re smarter than I thought. Most men can’t see far past a girl’s face and figure. Smellie deserves better than she’s had.”
“She’ll have better in future.”
“That’s nice. But now you’re with me.”
“I didn’t choose to be. I’m just trying to travel.”
“And I’m your travel mate.”
She glanced again at the village.
“Shit-for-Brains specializes in quality manure that grows plants that are said to clarify the mind. There’s not a huge market for that, compared to farting stimulants, but it does well enough.”
“That explains the pile of turds in the center.”
“Yes, that’s their statue. It has a carefully cultivated odor.”
Just then a whiff of it came.
“What a stench!”
“The stenchiest,” she agreed. “The villagers believe it makes them smart.”
Suddenly Prior felt an urgent need to defecate.
“Is there a—a potty on board?”
Seducia laughed. “Of course not. Just do it over the side. The smell is conducive, by no coincidence. It is considered good luck if you can score directly on the statue.”
“You’re fooling.”
“Hardly. Hold me while I drop one.”
She got up on the rail, and he held her arms while she poked her bare bottom out and squeezed out a ladylike turd. Her position was such that he had the best possible view of her dangling breasts and flexed thighs, which were not far above his standing penis.
“Now I’ll hold you,” she said. He didn’t argue; he was about to let loose regardless. He got his balance, buttressed by her lock on his shoulders, and spewed out a string of loose turds, powered by considerable gas. They sailed gracefully down toward the ground, but missed the statue; the craft had already passed it. There was no urine; his hard erection prevented that.
“Uh, thanks,” he said as he finished.
“Welcome. Folk who poop together, whoop together. We have now shared shit.”
She blew out a short fart as punctuation as she drew her remarkable breasts away from his face.
And that, in this culture, was romantic. He was coming to appreciate it. After all, how realistic was it to think that women had neither gas nor feces? This culture celebrated every part and function, without illusion or hypocrisy.
The balloon moved on across field, river, and forest.
“That’s the Rootin Tootin River,” Seducia said. “One sip of that bubbly water and you’re ready to inflate a dirigible. And the Feculent Forest, of which it has been justly said you haven’t truly known feces until you’ve trodden there.”
The river was brownish, and the forest from this height looked like mold on manure.
Beyond the forest was another village, featuring a giant yellow fountain.
“And that is?”
“Look at me and I’ll tell you.”
She was playing her game. He looked at her, and she did her dance while she talked. Any faint notion his penis might have had about subsiding was banished.
“That is Piss-on-It, where they hold regular pissing contests.”
“I thought those could be done anywhere.”
“They can, and are, just like the farting parties. But for championship pissing, Piss-on-It is the place. They have divisions for distance, volume, color, and I’m not sure what else, and prizes galore. There’s a story that once a thatch hut caught on fire, and there was no water near to put it out, but their champion pisser unlimbered his hose and pissed so powerfully that he put it out alone.”
“Didn’t it stink up the premises?”
“The whole village stinks of piss, so they never noticed.”
The balloon drifted on by another village. This one had a huge statue of a woman lying with bare legs spread wide. There seemed to be activity in the vicinity of her crotch.
“And that is—?”
“Look at me.”
He looked. She intensified her dance, moving close to him but never quite touching. Such was her allure that his penis got overstressed and jetted its load into the air.
Seducia smiled, flush with victory, as she caught the flying fluid in her cupped hands and spread it on her thighs like lotion.
“That is Fuck-It, where they raise and train the fucking demons for export.”
“Copulating demons?” he asked nervously as his penis dribbled the last of its content and descended, untouched. He had encountered some of those demons in his day.
“They are very popular. Plain women buy the males and use them as indefatigable lovers. Men buy the females and share them with their friends. They are programmed for a set number of fucks before they have to be returned for refurbishing. Maid-in-Tower uses them as challenges for the contestants; didn’t you know?”
The Spire had mentioned it, but it had slipped his mind.
“I’ll have to seduce a demoness to get into the tower.”
“Correction: you’ll have to make her climax. If you do it wrong, she’ll run her tongue up your ass and pump your prostate until it’s prostrate. So you don’t want to have your orgasm first; she’ll make you sorry. I’m really doing you a favor by harvesting your jism now.”
That was one way of putting it.
“Uh, thanks.”
“Their main office is in the statue’s cunt,” she continued, looking down at the village. “You can see the people going in and out. Every evening they haul up a huge hard-on shaped battering ram and give the goddess a good fucking. It is thought that bad luck will fall on the village if they don’t satisfy her. You can hear the whomping for miles around.”