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orgasm was mighty good regardless.
    Prior rammed in his token with more authority than his penis evinced, and passed inspection. He donned the helmet, settling the binoculars over his open eyes, the headphones over his ears, the nosecone over his nose, and the tactile band over his forehead and the back of his neck. The tape came on and the timer started.
    The succubus watched his penis climb rapidly and achieve full turgidity. It quivered and thrust toward the collection basin, on the verge of detonation, while Prior's open mouth gasped and drooled. There was obviously quite a show going on in his head! Fifteen seconds had passed; five to go. (The price rose exponentially for emissions within twelve seconds, or for males under thirteen, or for frigid women.)
    As the fit came over him, she hoisted her skirt, turned her torso about, and jammed her thirsty cavity onto the short pole, receiving the full ejaculation. It was a large one—a dozen jets—showing that he hadn't been tapped in some time. She smiled with satisfaction as she eased off the perch.
    Prior removed the helmet. "Whew! That was so real it felt real!" Then he noted her position and remembered what they had come for. "You—did you—"
    "Next time I incubate," she said as she straightened out, "I'm going to try one of those shows. This one sure lifted your counterweight."
    "Incubate?" He was still groggy from the sexview presentation. Whoever had authored the script for the sequence he had just experienced must have had a hot jock and a sick mind. It was potent stuff!
    "I'm succubating at the moment."
    "Oh." Obviously. Apparently she didn't have to change sexes the moment she got her load on; she could do it at her convenience.
    She set off for the slot section, metamorphosing in full stride. Still dazed, he followed her... him. Incubating, yes.
    The incubus took a token and shoved it into the slot they had visited before. His gesture in doing so was obscene. As the buttocks loosened and the crack opened he plunged his eight-incher into the hole with a loud slurp. As he delivered Prior's load, he pinched the buttock with fingernails that resembled an old-time can-opener.
    "Stop that!" screamed the owner's voice. "Go to the pervert department, you sadist!"
    "I have just put my brand on this hair-pie," the incubus said matter-of-factly, withdrawing his spent tool. Even flaccid, it remained large. Prior stifled a siege of envy. "Or this harpy; maybe that version is better. So we'll know whether remission occurs."
    Sure enough, a mystic symbol was now evident on the reddened skin. There would be no problem identifying this exhibit! Meanwhile, he agreed: hairpie equated nicely with harpy.
    "Now I'll just go test out the sexviewer," the incubus said. "Take care of your box." He handed the tamponer back and walked away.
    "You can't use it right after you've spurted—the guarantee's void!" Prior called. But the incubus was already out of hearing. Well, maybe he'd succubate, then try the show. Or maybe he had ways to fuck up this type of machine, too, just as she had been ready to do for the parking meter at the beach.
    Prior's attention was attracted downward by the passing snicker of a ten year old girl. His spent penis was still hanging out, and the box's filament was nuzzling it.
    He whipped his organ out of the way. He had no hankering to have a tampon rammed up it. Or a lighted cigarette.

Chapter Six
    Two weeks later the demon was back. Prior had almost succeeded in putting her/him out of his mind, and he had long since had himself checked out again at the VD clinic and pronounced clean. (He hadn't actually had contact with the infected slot, but you couldn't be too careful about a thing like that.) He had not washed his penis in five days, and was feeling much more comfortable in the mundane world. He had perfected his tamponer by eliminating the cigarette-lighting feature—tampons did not burn evenly anyway—and modifying the filament and rinse. He expected