“Now! Now!” the nurse exclaimed, wriggling urgently, her effort to oblige the potent horn causing the gurney to start rolling down the hall.
Prior responded with a heave. He couldn’t help it; the Spire was working him up to another orgasm.
“Yes! Yes!” the nurse said as the Spire commenced pumping. She contracted her bottom around it, getting all the feel of it she possibly could.
The Spire gouted. Prior felt the bolus pass through the penile length and pressure into the chamber like thick goo from a grease gun.
“What’s going on?” a male voice demanded.
“Emergency mouth to mouth resuscitation,” the nurse gasped, and pressed her mouth back on Prior’s mouth.
“Uh, okay,” the orderly said as the gurney rolled on past him. Fortunately the nurse’s skirt was down behind, concealing the real action.
Meanwhile the Spire continued gouting, sending pulse after pulse into the hole. Prior felt each one as if it were his own, and perhaps he was contributing a driblet of semen, because he was certainly in the throes of an extended climax.
“Oh, I’m filled, I’m filled!” the nurse gasped in ecstasy. “What an eruption!” She was hardly exaggerating; the Spire must have shoved a pint of viscous elixir into her. It was squeezing out and soaking his crotch. He knew what she was feeling, because it had a warm rapture throughout, making his skin tingle with delight. The effect would be magnified inside her distended vagina.
The gurney came up against a swinging door and barged through.
“Oh, God, we drifted into the morgue!” the nurse whispered. “Play dead!”
“Hey!” a man protested, appearing form a recess. “What are you doing?”
“Just delivering a fresh cadaver, doctor,” the nurse said. She scrambled off Prior, drawing the front of her skirt down. “All yours.”
“It stinks,” the doctor said. “What did it die of, suffocation in Limburger cheese?”
The nurse forced a laugh. “Something like that.” She shoved the gurney into a curtained alcove and drew the curtain across, hiding Prior for the nonce. “Do you have a moment? Let’s take a break.”
“From that stench? You got it.” Doctor and nurse departed; Prior heard the door swing closed behind them. Women, he realized, were naturals at covering up.
He got hastily off the gurney, ready to make his escape in the time and privacy the nurse had made for him. Of course she was covering her own ass, so to speak; she wanted him to get out so she wouldn’t have to explain anything. He was glad to oblige.
He didn’t want to follow the route they had taken, lest he encounter them again, so he went the other way, though a door into another chamber. This one was cold, with several curtained niches. In each niche was a corpse. He didn’t want to stay here long!
He was about to open the next door, but heard footsteps beyond it. He dodged back into the nearest niche and jerked the curtain across. He would hide, and resume his escape when the other person passed on by.
But the other did not go on. He—the tread sounded male—paused out side the closed niche. “What’s up, doctor?” he inquired. Yes, the voice was male. The closed curtain must signal that someone was there. “Just inspecting a new cadaver, doctor,” Prior replied.
“Good idea.” The doctor went to the next niche. “Might as well get a notion what we’re in for, next dissection class. This one looks good; how about yours?”
Prior looked at the corpse. It was a naked young woman lying supine in death, rather pretty, like a princess in a century-long trance. “Good enough,” Prior said.
NOW.
Prior froze for an instant. The Spire wanted to have sex with the cadaver?
“No!” he protested.
“What’s that?” the doctor inquired.
“Uh, nothing really,” Prior said. “It’s just that this is a young woman. It seems a shame to cut her up.”
“I know what you mean. But all the cadavers are here for the demonstration lab. If we don’t carve them, someone else will.”
NOW, the Spire repeated, and sent back a small dose that forced Prior to climb onto the woman. He tried to fight it, but could not; the Spire had control. Prior set himself full length over the corpse and the Spire angled down, seeking her genital region.
“You okay there?” the doctor inquired. “Need any help?”
“No, not at all,” Prior said quickly as his willful penis lodged in the cold cleft and heated it. “Just—just a moment of nausea. It will pass.”
“Occupational hazard,” the doctor agreed. The tip of the member found the frozen aperture and squirted out a jet of hot fluid, thawing it. Then it wedged into the crevice, melting its way inside. Prior realized that the Spire was going to complete the act regardless of the complications this could make for its human host. He had to cover whatever sounds there might be, and keep the doctor distracted until it was done and he could escape.
So he talked. His mind scrambled madly for something to say that might divert a doctor. He remembered a joke. With luck the doctor wouldn’t have heard it before.
“Reminds me of a story,” he said.
“I don’t know whether it’s true. The Dean of Doctors called in a handsome young doctor who was new to the hospital.
‘Smith,’ he said, ‘I have a special mission for you, if you are amenable.’
‘Of course, sir,” Dr. Smith agreed, because he was as eager as the next for a promotion.”
“Aren’t we all,” the adjacent doctor agreed.
The Spire was a good inch into the frigid woman, and such was its power of persuasion that she seemed to be thawing throughout. Prior could almost swear he felt a faint pulsing in her tight channel. But he had to focus on his story, because it would be utter disaster to be discovered doing what he was doing. He hoped the phallic horn finished before the story did.
“‘As you know, we have a strict health policy here,’ the Dean said.
‘Every member of our staff must pass an annual physical. But some are resistive. It is notorious that doctors often take worse care of themselves than they do of their patients. I don’t want disharmony, so rather than force the issue, I am resorting to a slight subterfuge. Do you know Dr. Jones?’
‘The luscious lady internist?’ Smith asked. ‘I mean, the comely young doctor? We have a nodding acquaintance.’
‘I am concerned that she has not performed her breast self examination regularly,’ the Dean said.
‘It is a matter I hesitate to broach to her directly, lest she assume I have some illicit motive.’
‘Understandable,’ Smith said, glad to agree.”
“You wouldn’t be referring to Miss Johnson, the sexy plastic surgeon, by any chance?” the doctor asked.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Prior said piously.
“‘I want you to ask Miss Jones out,’ the Dean said.
‘Funds will be made available for a really nice dinner date. Dine her, wine her, and cap the evening with an intimate liaison. In the course of that, give her breasts a thorough checking for untoward lumps or any other indication of incipient cancer. With luck, she will never catch on to your underlying motive.’
‘She’ll think it’s my way of lovemaking!’ Smith said, understanding. ‘What a novel idea! Of course I’ll do it, for the good of the hospital.’
‘Very good,’ the Dean agreed. ‘Report to me the morning after. I shall be most pleased if you accomplish this chore circumspectly.’
‘I will do my best, in every respect,’ Smith agreed, visions or rapid promotion alternating with visions of the lovely Miss Jones in bed.”
“I wonder if that would work with Miss Johnson?” the doctor mused. “As far as I know, no staffer has bedded her yet. It seems a real waste.”