The Myth of King Midol

Translated from the malodorous Greac by Pope Icky Fundament, PZK.

Once upon a time there lived a very rich king whose name was Midol. He had an inflatable love doll he called Miss Vickie which he loved very dearly. This king was fonder of sex than of anything else in the whole world; or if he did love anything better, it was having sex with his inflatable love doll Miss Vickie.
      But the more Midol had sex with his inflatable love doll Miss Vickie, the more he wished to have sex with a real nubile young woman. He thought, foolish man, that the best thing he could do for his sex life was to surround himself with more nubile young women than had ever surrounded anyone since the world began. So he gave all his thoughts and all his time to this purpose.
      When he worked arranging his collection of whips, chains, studs and leather underwear, he used to wish that each zipper was a nubile young woman, and once after he had had his way with his inflatable love doll Miss Vickie, he exclaimed, ``Now if she were only a real nubile young woman this act would have been worth performing.'' He very soon forgot how beautiful the velvet-lined cuffs, and the porno tapes, and the glossy magazines were, and at the time this story begins Midol could scarcely bear to see or touch anything that was not a real nubile young woman.
      Every day he used to spend a great many hours in a warm, damp room underground; it was here that he kept all his really hard-core pornography, and whenever Midol wanted to be very happy he would lock himself into this miserable room with a bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care Hand Lotion and would spend hours and hours poring over the many magazines. Or he would watch again and again the smutty videotapes which were kept in a big oak chest with a great iron lock in the lid, and sometimes he would take out his inflatable love doll Miss Vickie and use her shamelessly, lit by the light that came from a tiny window.
      His greedy libido could never be satisfied; he was quite discontented. ``What a happy man I should be,'' he said one day, ``if only the whole world could be made of real nubile young women, and they all belonged to me!''
      Just then a shadow fell across the lurid covers of his magazines, and when Midol looked up he saw a woman with a sardonic face holding a golden apple in the thin strip of sunshine that came through the little window. Midol was certain that he had carefully locked the door before he spread his spreads, so he knew that no one, unless she were more than a mortal, could get beside him. The stranger seemed so friendly and pleasant that Midol was not in the least afraid -- in fact, he was quite horny.
      ``Put that away, Midol, and I do mean now,'' the visitor said.
      Midol was abashed and subdued his manhood.
      ``You are a dirty old man, friend Midol,'' she said. ``I doubt if any other room in the whole world has as much to interest prurients in it as this.''
      ``Maybe,'' said Midol in a discontented voice, ``but I wish it were much more; and think how many years it has taken me to gather it all! If only I could live for a thousand years, then I might really be a lech.''
      ``Then you are not satisfied?'' asked the stranger. Midol shook his head and massaged his throbbingness.
      ``What would satisfy you? And keep your pants on, I don't mean me,'' the stranger asked.
      Midol looked at the visitor for a minute, and then said: ``I am tired of getting my rocks off with so much trouble. I should like everything I touch to be changed into a real nubile young woman.''
      The stranger smiled, and her smile seemed to fill the room like a flood of sunshine. ``Are you quite sure, Midol, that you would never be sorry if your wish were granted?'' she asked.
      ``Quite sure,'' said Midol, ``I ask nothing more to make me perfectly happy.''
      ``Be it as you wish, then,'' said the stranger: ``from tomorrow at sunrise you will have your desire -- everything you touch will be turned into a real nubile young woman.''
      The figure of the stranger then grew more voluptuous and more appealing, so that Midol had to change his pants. And when he had zipped up a clean pair, he saw only a yellow sunbeam in the room, and all around him oozed the precious sexual imagery he had spent his life in gathering.
      How Midol longed for the next day to come! He scarcely slept that night, and as soon as it was light he laid his hand on the chair beside his bed; then he nearly cried when he saw that nothing happened: the chair remained just as it was. ``Could the stranger have made a mistake,'' he wondered, ``or had it been a dream?''
      He lay still, getting hornier and randier each minute until at last the sun rose, and the first rays shone through his window and brightened the room. It seemed to Midol that the bright yellow sunbeam was very warm and heavy across his bed, and he sat up and looked more closely.
      What was his delight when he saw that the bedcover on which his hands rested had become a nubile young woman, looking at him sleepily! He started up and caught hold of the bedpost -- instantly he was cupping the breast of a nubile young woman. He pulled aside the window curtain and the tassel grew loose in his hand -- it was the ponytail of a nubile young woman! He took up a book from the table, and at his first touch it became a nubile young woman on whom no reading could be seen.
      Midol was delighted with his good fortune. He took his spectacles from his pocket and put them on, so that he might see more distinctly this bevy of buxom beauties in his bedroom. But to his surprise he could not possibly see through them: the clear glasses had turned to nubile young women, and, of course, though they were sinfully delectable, they were of no use as spectacles.
      Midol thought this was rather troublesome, but he soon forgot all about it. He went downstairs, and how he laughed with pleasure when he noticed that the railing became a lithe nubile young woman as he rested his hand on it; even the rusty iron latch of the sexual implement collection room turned into a wonderfully cream-colored nubile young woman as soon as his fingers pressed it.
      How lovely his collection was! In the old days Midol had been very fond of leather and latex, and had spent a great deal of money in getting rare marital aids and enhancements with which to make his collection enticing.
      Wicked whips hung from pegs; chrome-plated groin straps nestled on heaps of hemp rope. But since Midol had become so fond of pornography he had lost all pleasure in his collection: this morning he did not even see how arousing it was.
      He was thinking of nothing but the wonderful gift the stranger had brought him, and he was sure he could make the collection of far more value than it had ever been. So he went from item to item and touched the vinyl. And the beautiful black and steel color faded from the leather and studs: the rawhide became soft, and then became fleshy and pink; the air was filled with the sighs of nubile young women, which so filled Midol with desire that he could not bear to listen to them.
      But he was quite satisfied with his morning's work, and went back to the palace for breakfast feeling very happy.
      Midol sat down at the table. The King was very hungry, and he started to pour out a cup of wine, but the instant his fingers touched the cup, it became rosy and warm, and the next moment he was pouring wine from the navel of a nubile young woman. ``Oh dear me!'' exclaimed the King, rather surprised. The nubile young woman shook out her bellybutton and climbed off of the table.
      Then he looked at the nice little fish on his plate, and gently he touched its tail with his finger. To his horror it at once turned into a nubile young woman whom he was poking in a very indelicate fashion. As she scowled at him he took one of the delicious hot cakes, and he had scarcely broken it when the white flour changed into curly hairs attached to a nubile young woman who quickly removed herself from his grasp.
      ``I do not see how I am going to get any breakfast,'' he said to himself. ``I wonder if it will be the same at dinner,'' he thought, ``and if so, how am I going to live if all my food will be turned into nubile young women?''
      Midol began to get very anxious and to think about many things he had never thought of before. Here was the most sexually exciting breakfast that could be set before a king, and yet there was nothing he could eat! The poorest gigolo sitting down to a crust of bread and a cup of water was better off than King Midol, whose dainty food was purer than the finest prostitute.
      He began to doubt whether, after all, nubile young women were the only good thing in the world, and he was so hungry that he gave a groan.
      Then the most terrible thing happened: the nubile young woman, who up until recently had been a wine cup, started to talk, and this is what she said: ``You never take me anywhere,'' she whined. ``You only care about yourself. I can't believe I let you treat me like this.'' King Midol stared at her in abject horror.
      Another nubile young woman walked into his dining room. Her breasts jiggled wonderfully in the morning sunshine, but when she spoke, her voice was like a rasp against Midol's ears. ``What's with you, anyway? You think like I'm your slave or sumthin. Buy me some clothes, wouldja?'' And another nubile young woman, even more sumptuous than the other two, came in and began to kvetch.
      Soon King Midol's dining room was filled with nubile young women, all jostling to complain to King Midol about bloating, water retention, shopping, new shoes, high heels, pantyhose, complexions, cramps, and noncomedogenic foundation.
      He began to wring his hands and to wish that he was the most undersexed man in the whole wide world, if the loss of all these nubile young women would only quiet the place down. Finally, he ran to his inflatable love doll Miss Vickie for solace; but alas! as soon as he touched her plastic hips, she turned into a nubile young woman, who lost no time developing a yeast infection and complaining about the itch.
      King Midol was now beside himself with grief. While he was in despair he suddenly saw a stranger standing near the door, the same visitor he had seen yesterday for the first time in his pornography room, and who had granted his wish.
      ``Well, friend Midol,'' she said, ``pray how are you enjoying your new power?''
      Midol shook his head. ``I am very miserable,'' he said.
      ``Very miserable, are you?'' exclaimed the stranger. ``And how does that happen: have you not everything that your heart desired?''
      ``Nubile young women are not everything,'' answered Midol, raising his voice to be heard above the din of bitching, ``and I have lost all my peace and quiet.''
      ``Ah!'' said the stranger, ``I see you have made some discoveries since yesterday. Tell me truly, which of these things do you think is worth most -- a cup of clear cold water and a crust of bread and an inflatable love doll, or the power of turning everything you touch into a nubile young woman?''
      ``Oh Miss Vickie, Miss Vickie!'' sobbed Midol, wringing his hands some more. ``I would not have given one of her polyvinylchloride nipples for the power of changing all the world into nubile young women, and I would give them all back for a cup of cold water and a crust of bread.''
      ``You are wiser then you were, King Midol,'' said the stranger. ``Tell me, do you really wish to get rid of your fatal gift?''
      ``Yes,'' said Midol, ``it is hateful to me.''
      ``That's really too bad,'' said Eris, and left.