Free Beetle Juice by Piers Anthony Page A

and made him lie down on a blanket. “But I’m not cold,” he protested.
    Then he shivered. It was as though a chill winter wind had caught him naked, only the wind was from inside him.
    The women stripped and joined him on the blanket, pressing tightly against him from either side. They drew the blanket over them all. Their bodies were warm, and that was an immense comfort. Tod was right: he felt no sexual inclination. All he wanted was to somehow escape the coldness. He realized that it wasn’t actually physical; it was psychic, and it could be abated only by living energy transfused from other bodies. They were providing that, and he was grateful. It came from their minds as much as from their bodies, buoying him immeasurably.
    He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but knew he was recovering. The women remained bound to him, sharing their heat. “I think I am better now,” he said.
    â€œWe’ll know when you’re better,” Vanja said.
    He was curious. “How?”
    She reached down to tweak his limp penis. “When this signals us.”
    He had to laugh. They were both nude and pressing everything against him, and he felt all of it, yet he had no ambition for sex. It was a novel experience.
    Before long, however, his member did stir. Then they let go of him. Veee brought another pair of shorts and he put them on. He remained physically weak. “Thank you for warning me, so that I ate only a token amount. Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know how I would have handled it alone.”
    â€œWe understand,” Vanja said. “We have been there.”
    â€œI was sick for what seemed like hours,” Veee said. “Tod saved me.”
    â€œThat was when the two of you bonded,” Wetzel said.
    â€œI suppose it was. I liked him from then on.”
    Vanja put away the blanket. “I will leave the two of you to it.” She walked away, her clothing forming around her.
    â€œThe way you showed me to turn off sex,” Veee said. “I wish I had known it earlier in life.”
    â€œIt works only with telepaths. They have to read your mind. But keep it handy.”
    â€œThe only one I can use it against is you.”
    â€œAnd you should. That way we won’t do anything we will regret.” He glanced at her, realizing that she remained nude. “Use it now. And put on your clothing.”
    â€œOh.” She summoned the turn-off mood, and dressed. “I suppose if I ever do encounter another telepathic male, it could be useful. But how will I know he’s reading my mind?”
    Wetzel explained how to pick up on the feather touch, and drilled her on it, until she could tell the moment he snooped. She was an apt learner, quite intelligent.
    â€œBut I can’t actually stop him from reading my mind,” she said. “So if he wanted to know something I wanted to keep secret, I would be helpless.”
    And Wetzel knew he would have to share the secret of his storm cellar with her and the others. Because they might indeed encounter telepathy, and have to preserve private information. That might even be the reason he had been summoned. “There is a way. But it may be awkward to set up.”
    She was interested. But there was a problem, as he had feared. The storm shelter had to be tied to something she wanted no one else to know, and she would have to let
him
know. “I think I’d rather have the rape,” she said candidly.
    â€œThen you don’t have to make the shelter,” he said. “It’s just our guess that there will be other telepaths.”
    â€œI think I do have to make it. But let me mull it a while. There’s something I would like to know about you, if you are willing to tell me.”
    â€œVirgins,” he said.
    She shook her head. “I keep forgetting that you can read my mind! Yes. I think you said you are attracted to them. Are they similarly attracted to