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this week’s prize maiden?” She hoped she had somehow misheard. “Correct. You are on display, and the first contestant has been selected.” “Already!” “It started yesterday. Do you wish to see the man?” “No!” But she knew it didn’t matter. The mystery was clarifying. Each week they went out somewhere and persuaded or abducted a comely woman, and she was the current one. It seemed odd that they would take one with a baby, as most men preferred, as it had been put, maidens. Maybe it represented variety. Probably some were giggly teens, while others were mature women such as herself. She was 33, but had kept herself in shape with diet and exercise. Perhaps that had been her undoing. “There will be seven final contestants?” “In a manner. Each will be a day’s winner. You will choose one of them. That is why you might prefer to watch them contest; it may offer clues to their nature.”
    “I must choose one, to became a sex slave for,” she said. “I am not allowed to turn them all down?”
    “You are allowed, but then you go instead to the ogre.” A picture ap peared of a huge hairy apelike creature rattling his cage and fondling his enormous genital member. “You will be put into his cage. If you survive the year, you will be released.”
    She would choose one of the contestants. “Suppose I choose one, then discover I can’t endure it?”
    “You will be assigned to the runner up, and your year will begin again. If you have a problem with him, you will start a year with the third. If you should happen to run through them all, you will finish with the ogre.”
    It would be best to choose well the first time. They had their system pretty well worked out; maidens were not expected to balk. “You said I am on display?”
    “In this manner.” A new picture appeared. This one was of a standing woman, naked, her flesh translucent. As the camera approached, it became apparent that this was a glassy statue, with the innards visible. There were bones in the limbs and organs in the torso. And in the center, in the looping intestinal tract, was a suite of rooms. And a woman with a baby. Herself.
    Appalled, she watched herself of the prior day, nursing her baby, dress ing in transparent clothing, exploring the chambers, eating, hurrying to the transparent toilet. She saw her own bottom from below, and heard her amplified breaking of wind. She had no secrets from the public, other than her face. She was the prize maiden, on display for every man who might be interested, and evidently some were. Nobody cared about her background; she was comely and available, perforce. She would be completely amenable to whatever sexual inclinations the man of her choice had. She would also openly piss and shit and fart at his command, for this was the land of open natural functions. For a full year. Or else. If this wasn’t hell, it was a reasonable facsimile.

Chapter 5—Now
    Prior walked away from Mount Smegma, wanting a shower. It might be his own formula, but it stank. He’d have to launder his clothes, and maybe his car too. There was a woman standing at a bus stop. HER the Spire gouted. “But she’s forty if she’s a day,” Prior protested. “And getting stout. You can do better.” The truth was he wanted to clean up before getting into any complications. SHE’S CLOSE. “No, she’ll have to wait. My stench would drive her away.”
NOW. And the Spire gouted something into him that robbed him of his
    volition. He had to do it, on his own or as a zombie. “Okay,” he muttered, and his volition returned. “But she’s going to flee,
    I tell you.” He strode toward the woman. She winded him and turned to stare disapprovingly. He nerved himself and spoke. “I—” he said, fighting his inclination to flee himself. “I want to— to have sex with you.” “Never, you stench that walks like an ape. Stay away from me.” “She doesn’t want to—” Prior murmured.
NOW. The Spire was expanding to its